Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
His thumb was on my clit, his fingers twisting deep, and he knew me, he knew me enough that my body responded to him. “No,” I said. “Please stop.”
“You want it. You want the love, you want the pain. Your body wants me.”
“No.”
“It always wanted me, pretty bird. All those times you hurt until you cried, and all those times I made it better for you.”
“You didn’t make it better.”
“Oh, I did. Just like I will now.” His breath on my face, I turned my head away. “Open your legs,” he said, and I heard fingers at his belt. “Don’t fucking deny me, Magpie, or you know what I will do to you. You know what happens to sluts who displease their master.”
“You’re not my master.”
“And he’s not your partner.” Strong hands pulled my thighs apart, and I froze. Lost. “You don’t belong here. At least you know what you’re getting with me, Magpie. You know the beautiful truth of the love we share. That man is a liar.”
“You lie, Vincent.”
“Give yourself to me,” he said. “And I won’t punish you.”
It was a losing battle, and I knew it. My knees couldn’t get leverage to kick out, and my wrists were pinned as soon as I went for him. My brain unravelled, like a fine thread, and I was laughing.
“Kiss me,” I said. “Show me how much you love me before you fuck me.”
“Oh, pretty bird,” he growled. “That’s a good girl.”
My mouth went for his, and I hoped he tasted all of it, every filthy part of Andy Morgan.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
Andy
I winced as I lowered myself into my seat. Jesus Christ, she’d fucked me good. I was already thinking up all the ways I’d pay her back, all the delicious ways I’d make her body worship mine. Submitting to Faye Devere wasn’t all that bad.
This arrangement might just fucking work.
There was only one seedy little fly left in the ointment, and I woke up my laptop to check on its status. With any luck we’d be home and dry, and life could carry on like it should have done three years ago, before that twisted sack of shit ever tempted her away. I pulled up his website and checked his events page, hoping at least some of them would have been cancelled. They would be if he had any sense in his pathetic skull.
But they weren’t. They were all still listed. Every fucking one of them.
Stupid fucking tosser.
Topaz flew through the door without so much as a proper knock. She was definitely getting too fucking big for her little boots.
“Haven’t you heard of privacy?” I snapped.
She caught her breath. “I’m sorry, Mr Morgan, but we’ve been looking for you everywhere. The dancefloor’s flooded, someone’s twisted an ankle over by the main stage, at least three bottles have been smashed by the bar, and Demelza’s lost some of her new induction members. We’ve both been looking for you. We couldn’t find you anywhere, either you or Faye.”
I held up a hand. “Alright, alright, just calm down.” I made to close the website, but the scrolling comments section at the bottom caught my eye.
Disgusting! Master Blake should be ashamed of himself. I hope she never goes back to him, you filthy fucking pimp!
I scrolled down, and amongst the gushing I loved it so much, best book ever, there was another.
Selling a woman for sex is never for love. Disgusted reader.
I could feel Topaz’s eyes on mine. “What is it, Mr Morgan?”
“Have you read Bird in the Bush, Topaz? The new one?”
Oh her face, it turned fucking crimson. “I… um…”
“You’ve read it, haven’t you?”
“Oh, Mr Morgan, I didn’t want to get involved!” She covered her pretty eyes.
“Did he sell her for sex, Topaz?”
She didn’t say a word, didn’t even move and I lost my fucking temper. “Did that sack of fucking shit sell Faye for sex, Topaz? Yes or fucking no?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what it says.”
“And you didn’t think to fucking tell me?”
She shrugged, pitiful. “I only just read it, it wasn’t my place!”
“Did she know about it? Did Faye know that dirty cunt was fucking selling her?”
“No,” she said, and her eyes were glassy. “She didn’t know, that’s why she ran… in the book. In the book she thinks she’s doing it to please him, out of love, only one of the guests asks her for extra, a one on one… he asks her how much, and then she knows… she runs…”
“In the fucking book,” I spat. “In the filthy twisted fucking book. How many times?”
“Sorry?”
“How many times did he do that to her? Once, twice, three fucking times? More?”
“More,” she said. “I don’t think you should read that book, Mr Morgan, even I didn’t finish it.”
I jabbed a finger through the air. “I want your copy of that fucking book on my desk first fucking thing.”