Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I turn to head back through the doorway to the porch, but before I get there, I’m stopped short by Calvin’s steely grip.
With one hand he grabs my upper arm, the other my hip. After halting my movement, he pushes me forward until my breasts are smashed against the temple wall. The sound of my beaded bodice scraping the sandstone surface makes me panic more than his hands on me. Terrified my dress will leave a mark, I try to shove myself away from it, but I only pull back a couple of inches before my backside is met with the heat of Calvin’s muscular body.
“Are you crazy?” I whisper furiously.
His taunt is light and sinfully rich at the same time as he murmurs in my ear, “Am I taking up enough space for you, sweetheart?”
Heat floods my cheeks and I try again to rear back, but I only manage to wind up firmly in his forceful embrace.
“Get off me,” I demand, turning my head so I can steal a look back at him.
Unbothered by my tone, he kisses the shell of my ear. “Say please.”
Shame turns the tops of my ears red, but I’m too concerned with being caught to waste time arguing with the big jerk. “Please,” I manage through gritted teeth.
“Not sweet enough,” he reprimands. As if he has all the time in the world and he’s the god this temple was built for, he says, “Unless you want to end up on your knees right here, right now, I’d try one more time.”
Terror sluices through me, widening my eyes and cooling my righteous anger just a bit. “Please,” I say, my tone much gentler. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“Mm,” he murmurs, his tone thick with approval as he kisses the side of my head. “No, of course you don’t. I bet since you don’t want to get caught so badly, I could do anything I want to you right now without worrying you might cry out for help…”
A chill slithers down my spine.
He wouldn’t.
… Right?
That’s what I’m telling myself, but then his massive hand slides down and cups the curve of my ass and I realize…
Yes.
Yes, he would.
Chapter Twenty
Hallie
I have to get him out of the temple.
Force clearly isn’t going to get me anywhere with him. My heart thuds at the thought of what I’m about to say, but I have to be realistic. I know Calvin will fuck me tonight whether I want him to or not, but I might be able to control the location.
“Why don’t we go? Dinner’s over and you’re clearly eager to get on to… the next part of our evening.”
Calvin grabs the base of my neatly styled chignon and tugs my head back. “Stop.”
My tummy twists. “Stop what?”
“Trying to control the situation. I am not Jackson. I’m not any of the idiot boys you’ve entertained before me.” He gives my hair a firmer tug. “I am in control of this entire night. I am in control of what happens to you and where.” He tugs my hair harder, forcing my body back against him. As I arch to accommodate his shoulder, he says in a steely tone, “If you want something, you ask me for it, and you ask sweetly. You do not lie, you do not manipulate, you do not control. All of those things are off the table the moment I put my hands on you. Is that clear?”
I swallow and nod tersely.
“Good,” he says warmly, a reward for my acquiescence. He releases my hip, and a moment later I feel the back of his hand brushing the exposed curve of my upper back. “Now, if you fight too hard, I might fall back a step and bump into that priceless statue you were admiring. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Goosebumps erupt across my skin as his fingers glide over the sensitive nape of my neck. When a few seconds pass and I still don’t answer him, his grip on my hair tightens.
“I said, would you?”
“No,” I whisper quickly, handcuffed by a helplessness that isn’t fair at all.
On one hand, I don’t believe he would really destroy a priceless artifact to punish me for not behaving appropriately.
On the other hand, I can’t be sure. He is a lunatic, after all.
He pushes me forward again. This time, I think fast and shove my left hand between my breasts and the wall. I figure it can act as a buffer so my beaded bodice isn’t scraping the ancient sandstone. Given the choice between natural hand oils and scratches from little blue beads, I have to imagine my hand will inflict less damage.
And then there’s the man behind me, intent on inflicting all the damage his black heart desires. His hand slides down my back, then over the curve of my ass. He squeezes me through the fabric of my dress and panties. It’s a lot of fabric, but I can still feel the heat from his hand like a brand against my bare skin.