Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
He smacks my backside, not hard, but it stings and I yelp. “Reid!”
“And for tonight,” he repeats. “I’m punishing you for tonight.”
“I called you.”
His hand comes down on my lower back. “Flatten out. Lay down.”
“I’m not laying down.”
“I’m going to spank you,” he says. “Lay down.”
“Reid,” I bite out, “damn it.”
“You can say no,” he says. “You can always say no. Do so now and I’ll let you turn over.”
Do I want to say no? My answer comes shockingly fast. “I’m not saying no. Lord help me, I’m not saying no, but I’m just—I’ve never—”
He drags my legs out from under me and settles me flat on my hips, one hand settling on my lower back. “Relax,” he orders softly, his hand caresses my lower back, his palm traveling up my spine while the fingers of the other travel to my backside, sliding along my sex, and sink inside me. I pant with the intimate invasion that is there and gone. Then he’s patting my sex, over and over, and my God, it’s good. It’s sexy and erotic and it’s far more right than I’d ever imagined. I’m aroused. So very aroused. So very on the edge. Some part of me knows the spanking is coming, but I can’t think about that when I’m so close to coming. Only I don’t come. It comes. He stops patting my sex and I have one second of awareness before he spanks me, one fast palm that stings and then his fingers are back inside me, stroking me, teasing me. I’m panting when he spanks me again and then again. And then nothing. His hand just rests where it’s settled over my sex.
I suck in air, expecting another palm, wanting it, and wanting more, so much more. “Reid,” I breathe out in desperation and that must be what he was waiting for because it’s then that he acts.
He drags me off of his lap and then on top of him, straddling him, and before the impact of just being spanked by this man can fully hit me, he’s kissing me. A deep, passionate, drive-me-wild kiss and I have never needed a kiss like I need this one. I sink into it, into him, molding myself against him. I still need more, so much more. “Hold onto my neck,” he says. “Our only condom is in my nightstand. I’m going to stand up.”
His bedroom. I don’t seem to want to go there. I press my hands on his shoulders, leaning back to prevent him from getting up. “I’d tell you I’m on the pill and that I’m free of all things that might kill you or make your manly parts fall off, but then you’d have to actually trust me.” The statement is out before I realize that I’m now staring into those piercing blue eyes of his, and the dim lighting of the room does nothing to diminish their impact.
“You want me to trust you?”
“Yes,” I say, “but it’s not about this moment. It’s about all of them.”
His expression is that stone I know this man to be, the stone that is unbreakable, and I don’t know why I would think that would change for me. Abruptly, he rolls me to my back, his big body on top of mine and then he just stares down at me again, tension banding around him and us until he kisses me, hard and fast, and then orders, “Don’t move or I swear I’ll spank you again.”
He stands with that threat and I don’t disobey simply because I’m trying to catch my breath. But I can’t catch my breath. He’s undressing and is one hell of a specimen of a man, all sinewy muscle and perfection, and in about sixty seconds, he’s naked and returning to me. He comes down on top of me, the thick ridge of his erection jutting between my legs.
“Trust is a dangerous thing,” he says, his cock sliding along the slick line of my sex before he presses inside me, driving deep, burying himself to the hilt, as he adds, “You understand that, right?”
“And yet you’re not wearing a condom.”
“I keep breaking rules with you.” He rolls to his side and drags me with him, pulling my leg to his hip.
“I’m pretty sure getting spanked was my unknown, never-considered rule before now, as was not fucking assholes.”
He strokes hair from my face and tilts my face to his. “Did you like the spanking, Carrie?”
It’s in that moment that I realize after all of my fears of this man owning me, I laid across his lap and let him spank me, and have zero regrets. “Yes,” I say. “But that’s not the point.”
He shifts inside me and then pumps his hips. I pant and arch my back. “Then what is the point?”
“You,” I whisper because it’s my only coherent thought. “You push me, and I don’t know if I love it or hate it. Both. I think both.”