Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
‘Actually, I think I’ll fuck you in the ass,’ I say, and pull out from the depths of her throat.
She looks at my dick, glistening with her saliva and her eyes become enormous.
‘Oh, you’re so big. It’ll hurt me so much, but I still want it,’ she says and gets on her hands and knees. She twists her neck to look at me.
‘Fuck my ass. Stretch it good,’ she begs.
I don’t use any lubricant. I just plunge straight into the lying, two-timing bitch’s ass. She screams …
… and I shot my load. It jetted out of me in streams of white like I hadn’t come for ages. I fell back on the bed, alone, my right hand still curled around my dick. Fuck. I needed a
whole new strategy to deal with her.
A completely different strategy.
CHAPTER 15
Tawny Maxwell
I slept badly, my night filled with weird dreams. In one, I had sex with Ivan and when I woke up my whole body was tingling. In another, I was in Barrington Manor with Robert. Not only
was he still alive, he looked as he had before he became really ill. We were sitting in the rose arbor at the edge of the vegetable garden and I was trying to tell him something, but he
said, ‘I can’t hear you, my darling. You’ll have to stop that dog from barking first.’
I looked in the direction he was looking and there was Chloe on all fours. She was naked but for a dog collar, and barking her head off. She had a long pink tail, which stood up and away
from her body, and she was waving it really hard. Weird.
Consequently, I could not wake up in time to go for my run, and I was in the kitchen cutting a slice of cake while waiting for the coffee machine to heat up when Ivan walked in.
Last night was etched in my mind, but it was almost as if what happened between us, the hunger, the crazy kiss, was just one of my weird dreams. The passionate man from last night was
firmly locked away in a deep dungeon. There was only the suave businessman Robert introduced me to that very first night. Cold-eyed and totally unreachable, he stood in the middle of the
kitchen and addressed me.
‘Good morning.’
‘Morning,’ I said, and lifted my hand in an awkward wave.
‘Do please sit down,’ he said, waving his hand towards the island stools.
‘Formal,’ I commented, and popped myself on the stool furthest from him.
‘Well, yes. I’ve decided what I want to do with you.’
‘Very dramatic,’ I said lightly, but already I didn’t like the sound of his voice.
He cleared his throat. ‘The simple fact is; the terms of Robert’s will mean should your stepchildren manage to arrange for your demise, or your incapacitation, his fortune is basically
up for grabs. However, if you are married, your husband will inherit everything, and if you have children of your own that puts even more layers between them and your inheritance. At
that point it would be pointless to eliminate you.’
He looked at me with raised eyebrows.
‘The marriage would only be a temporary arrangement. At twenty-one you will be able to set up trusts of your own and put in stipulations so your stepchildren are completely eliminated
from being in positions of rightful heirs.’
I tilted my head to one side and considered him with narrowed eyes. What he just said sounded like three gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket.
‘Let me get this right. Are you actually suggesting I get into a sham marriage to keep my stepchildren away from my fortune?’
‘Yes. That is exactly what I am suggesting,’ he said blandly.
I laughed, humorless and short. ‘And you have a man ready to marry me as well, I suppose?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed quietly.
I moved back, stunned. Good gracious me, it never crossed my mind that he already had a candidate lined up and waiting for the job as well. No doubt he expected me to marry some employee
of his or servant who would be compensated with my money for this ridiculous charade.
‘And do I know this accommodating man?’ My voice was low even though I was furious.
‘You’re looking at him.’
Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. ‘You?’ I uttered incredulously. ‘You hate my guts.’
He shifted slightly. ‘Hate is a bit intense.’
‘Well,’ I breathed. ‘We certainly don’t love each other.’
He looked at me as if I didn’t have the sense that God gave a goose. ‘What’s love got to do with it?’
‘Do go on,’ I said dryly, still unable to quite believe he was being serious.
‘Quite frankly, I don’t see why not. You seemed to manage very well once before without love.’
The cocky bastard. I shot venom from my eyes. ‘This is exactly why we should never get married. I’d end up poisoning you and going to prison.’