Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
It feels like being in the middle of a violent storm, and Jafar is the only thing anchoring me in place. Everything hurts. If butterflies ever existed in my stomach, they’ve been replaced by something with claws and teeth.
These violent delights have violent ends.
Romeo and Juliet is not a romantic arc I wish to mirror, throwing away everything for a man. At least Juliet had something before love swept her away. My family, what little of it there was, has been murdered. Any power I possess is all illusion. Enemies lurk in the shadows.
If I was a smarter woman, I would number Jafar among them.
“I have something special planned for you tonight.”
His low words coax me from my dark thoughts, and I’m only too happy to let his sheer presence wash away my concerns. At least for a little while. Tomorrow is soon enough to worry about the future, about the implications of what Jafar has laid out tonight.
He wants to keep me happy.
That should be a positive. I want to be happy. But my needs and his are forever at odds. He wants me content in this place. I need to be free.
Tomorrow. I’ll form a plan tomorrow.
I finally dredge up a smile for him. “Something special?”
“Yes.” He takes me hand and pulls me to my feet. I tense, half expecting him to toss me over his shoulder again, but Jafar seems content to tug me along behind him. “Under other circumstances, this would go down at The Underworld, but some adjustments were required.”
Because of Ali.
I should be happy Jafar wants to keep me out of that man’s hands. I am happy about that. It’s losing The Underworld as a destination away from the penthouse that I can’t stand. My cage keeps closing tighter around me, the trap teeth digging in deeper to my limbs. A constant reminder that I have no control of my life.
Jafar leads me into the lounge, and I stop short. “Meg?”
Meg leans against the bar, a wicked smile painting her lips. “Apparently play time came early.” She winks. “You should thank your Daddy for me. I’m truly a gift.”
I turn to Jafar. “You …” He set this up for me, because I expressed interest.
He sinks his hands into my hair and pulls me forward to press against his chest. His dark eyes see everything I can’t put into words. “It’s my pleasure to meet your needs, baby girl. All of them.” His glances over my shoulder and I don’t know what knowledge has passed between him and Meg, but I can hear her moving behind me. “Working up to the other fantasy starts here.”
The other fantasy.
The one where he invites more people. Where we jump from them watching to them taking me up on the invitation simmering in my blood. I open my mouth, but it’s as if all the air has disappeared from the room. It takes me three tries to force out the words. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He tugs on my hair, forcing my attention to narrow in on him. “It’s the same rules. Safe word and it stops.”
Which allows me to resist, to fight them, to drive my desire higher every time they overpower me. I lick my lips. “I understand.”
“Good.”
Just like that, he goes cold, his expression closing down in a way that has my heart leaping into my chest. He releases my hair and grasps my chin. “You’ve been teasing again, baby girl.”
“No,” I whisper. I jerk away, and he allows me to take a step before he spins me around and pins me against his chest. Meg’s moved to the couch and she has a tumbler of amber colored liquid dangling from one hand and her legs crossed. She’s wearing another suit, the gray pants perfectly tailored to her body and the white blouse translucent enough that I can see the faint outline of her nipples through it. Her mass of dark brown hair is pulled back from her face and she’s done something with her makeup that emphasizes the wicked slyness in her blue eyes. Dark red lipstick finishes the look and, yes, my entire body goes tight at the realization that she’s going to do more than look tonight.
Jafar moves closer to the couch, forcing me in front of him. “I invite Meg over for a nice drink and you come in here in that dress.”
“You bought me this dress,” I protest, pushing back against him, trying not to roll my ass against his hard cock. Wanton. Every time we play this game, Jafar makes me feel absolutely wanton. He boils me down to my very essence, to pure lust, pulling forth fantasy after fantasy and delivering them without qualm. The man is addiction personified.
“I bought you that dress to wear for me.” He moves us forward another step. “Not so you can flash your pussy at our guests.”