Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
She inhales deeply but eases down into a full kneel in front of me, and her spine is straight, her hands on her knees. A submissive position that is all the more powerful because I know this woman submits to no one but me. I decide against the box, but I open it, grab a bottle of heated gel, and slide it under the chair. It’s for later. It’s too much right now, for this night. She’s too guarded, we have too far to go, and knowing this kills me. I let her get here. I let us get here by allowing my past to control us.
Everything I might have done to her tonight shifts, changes, softens, but that doesn’t mean I won’t push her. I will tear down those damn walls. I will make her let herself feel what she’s buried inside over her attack. I know what burying things rather than facing them does. I did it and that’s why we’re here now.
I squat behind her, touching her nowhere, but my hands caress an outline of her body. She tilts her head back and arches into the nonexistent touch as if she feels it; that’s how connected I am to this woman and that’s what I need her to remember tonight. Nothing she can feel or express or need is outside of my understanding. I reach up and just barely run my fingers over her shoulder, goosebumps lifting on her skin. I follow the touch with a true caress across that same stretch of creamy white skin, and down her upper arm. I repeat the same action on the other side. The barely there touch of her shoulder, the full caress down her arm.
A heavy, quivering breath escapes her lips, telling me how on edge she is, and I stroke the silky strands of her brown hair away from her delicate, slender neck, my hand on her naked shoulder, my lips at her ear. “I own you tonight.” I brush my lips over her neck and then whisper in her ear. “And that means I’m going to push you and push you some more.” My lips trail down her neck to her shoulder, where my teeth scrape before my tongue soothes that bite.
She yelps and I lave the offended skin with my tongue. “I promise to make it hurt really good.”
“I don’t like being tied up,” she whispers.
I reach around her and pull her back against my chest, my hands cupping her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. She moans and I lower my head to ask. “What don’t you like?”
“I want to touch you.”
“I want you to touch me, but not yet.” I lean around her and kiss her, her lips and tongue reaching for mine, the taste of her hungry and yet uncertain. Desperate and yet reserved. It’s the unknown that is consuming her right along with me.
I squeeze her breasts. “Lean forward on your hands and knees.” My hands fall away from her.
“Are you going to—”
“Spank you?”
“Yes,” she says.
“You might like that a little too much to make it a surprise.” I smack her backside. “On your hands and knees.”
She yelps with what is a surprise, arching against my touch, but she pants out a breath and does as I command, her palms flattening in front of her, her perfect backside lifted high in the air. Her hands and knees are on the soft thick brown rug that I’m damn glad I let the decorator talk me into buying. I stand up and undress, just the sight of her on her hands and knees, thickening my already hard cock. I wrap my hand around it, a momentary memory of her on her knees in the shower, her mouth on me, almost my undoing. I want to drive inside her, to fuck her, and start all over, but no. That’s isn’t what I’m going to do.
I settle on one knee beside her, pressing my hand between her shoulder blades, and leaning into my hand on her lower back and slender belly. “On your elbows.”
She complies, and I drag my hand down her spine to rest on her backside while my lips press between her shoulder blades. “What are your limits, Lori?” I ask, my teeth scraping her shoulder again.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks urgently.
“Make you forget everything but me.” I press my hand to her belly.
“Success,” she whispers. “I’m already—”
The fingers of one of my hands brush her nipples, while the other traces the line down the center of her beautiful bottom. She never finishes her sentence and that’s how I want her. Speechless, mindless. I squeeze one of her breasts and then the other, tweaking her nipples, only to abandon them and move behind her, flattening a palm on her lower back, my other hand sliding up and down the center of her backside, stopping just over her sex, the wet heat of her arousal radiating over my palm. I know what she likes, I know what she wants. I give her a slight smack there, not meant to cause any pain, just pleasure. This delivers her earthy, wanting gasp and I can hear her breathing now.