Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Fuck, I really am out of my fucking mind.
No bullocks, no excuses, no explanations.
I'm risking everything that matters in my life, and hers, and I don't give a fuck.
I take a deep breath. Shrug my shoulders. Move toward the bedroom.
The hum of the air-conditioning fills the space. I can't hear Sienna through the door. I can't tell if she's wound with fear or anticipation.
Both maybe.
I push the handle.
She lets out a gasp. It fills the space, then the air-conditioning drowns the sound of her breath.
I step inside. Push the door closed behind me.
My shoulders tense as it clicks. I'm the one on edge here. I'm the one who's terrified.
Sex is new to her.
But it's something she understands. Something she wants.
This, fucking someone I want to see tomorrow, is incomprehensible.
"Cam." Her chest heaves with her inhale.
Sienna Simms, sitting on my bed, naked, waiting, ready.
I flick the switch. The main lights turn on. The shaded ones on both sides of the bed.
It's not the lighting I'd choose for this—I'd want the bright light of day, so I could see every fucking detail—but she's just as gorgeous in the soft yellow glow.
"Stand up." I try to find the right tone. Firm enough to demand. Soft enough to invite her.
Sienna looks up at me, her hazel eyes filled with equal parts nerves and desire.
She's scared.
I need to be careful with her.
How the fuck am I supposed to be careful with her?
She pushes off the bed. Stands at the foot of it.
"Turn around," I say.
She does it slowly.
Fuck, she's perfect. Long and lean with strong shoulders and lush thighs. Thighs I need against my cheeks again.
She meets my gaze. "You're cruel. Making me wait so long."
"Get used to it." I pull a condom from my dresser.
Her eyes light up. Her fingers dig into her thighs.
She wants me that badly.
I take a deep breath, so I stay in control, so I don't push her too hard or too fast. "You fuck yourself thinking of me."
She nods.
"What do you imagine?"
"Everything." She runs her fingers through her long hair. "The two of us alone in my bedroom. Sometimes the one I had in Brooklyn. Sometimes the one I have now. My new bed is bigger, big enough for two."
"Your old bed?"
"It was a twin. But I don't imagine that would stop you."
"No."
Her lips curl into a soft smile. For a second, the tension in the room fades. My shoulders soften. My chest eases.
Then she takes a step toward me, and I lose every degree of cool.
"Stay there." I try to keep my voice even, but my nerves betray me. "You need to follow my orders, sweetness. Do what I say, when I say it. Or I'll stop."
A whine falls from her lips. "Please."
"Please?" I let my voice drop to a teasing tone. You know what happens when you dare me.
"Please don't stop. I know I'm not supposed to ask, but—"
"I'll let it go this time. But only this time."
She nods, attentive, obedient.
So much unlike the Sienna I know, and so similar at once. She's brash and headstrong and ready to conquer any challenge.
This is another challenge.
Is that why she's interested? Or does she get off on following orders?
I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out.
"How do I fuck you?" I move closer. "In your fantasies?"
"Sometimes it's gentle. Your body over mine. My arms around your neck, my legs around your hips, the two of us kissing. Sometimes, it's hard or rough. Your hand on my throat. My arms tied over my head. You throwing me on the bed and ordering me to take whatever you're going to give."
Where the fuck did she get all those ideas? "Which makes you come the fastest?"
"I don't know. They're all fuzzy. Like a daydream, an image I've seen in a movie, a story I've heard from a friend." She's careful not to mention her sister or her future brother-in-law.
But it fills the air anyway.
The reason why we shouldn't do this.
The reason we're both ignoring.
We're both out of our fucking minds, but she's got a good excuse. She's eighteen.
I'm older, wiser, more experienced, more responsible.
Sworn to protect her.
And I'm here. Deciding how I'm going to fuck her. Trying to find the thing she wants the most.
"When did you last fuck yourself?" I ask.
"Last night."
"Where?"
"My bed."
"What did you imagine?"
"You," she says. "I thought about tonight. The two of us at the party, sneaking off to a private space. You pinning me to the wall and sliding your hand between my leg. Or pushing me to my knees and ordering me to suck you off."
"Don't tempt me."
She smiles, victorious. "It's the truth."
"Is that when you came?"
"Yes."
Fuck. "And now." I take another step toward her. "What do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"How?"
"You've been daring me. How much you'll fuck me up. How hard or rough or kinky it will be. Like that."