Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Fear snakes up my spine as he traces my cleavage with the barrel and draws a circle around my breast.
“Do you want to know what it feels like when the metal tears through your flesh?” he asks, making that circle smaller and smaller until he’s outlining my nipple.
The tip of my breast hardens under the touch of the cold metal. He flicks the barrel up and down until my nipple is rock-hard and extended. “Do you want to feel the pain when your blood drips down your skin?”
He yanks me closer, pushing the barrel over the hard point of my breast, letting the metal swallow my nipple whole. “Because if that’s a game you want to play, I’m going to give you your fucking way.”
My heart thunders in my chest even as I stare at him with defiance.
He slides the barrel to the valley of my breasts and farther until he finds the erratic beat of my heart. “A bullet to the heart will be lethal, but where’s the fun in that? Much too fast, over too quickly, don’t you think?”
I’m exhaling through my nose, trying to control my breathing. I have no doubt he’d love to shoot me.
When he pulls the gun away from my heart, I almost exhale in relief, but the air is trapped in my lungs as he draws a line down my torso and over my stomach. Before he reaches my pelvis, I’m straining in his hold, but he doesn’t let me put space between us. He studies my eyes as he goes lower and lower, finally tracing my slit.
A gasp catches in my throat. I go on tiptoes to escape. Too late. I took this game too far. He parts my folds with the barrel, pulling them open to expose my clit. His smile is pure evil as he circles that button with the barrel.
My mind is thrown back to a different day not so long ago—only yesterday, in fact—when he pressed his ring on that spot. It already feels like years ago, as if what happened between yesterday and today left me old.
A smirk curves his lips when he rubs the barrel over my clit. The look on his face is smug because the stimulation makes me wet. I grab his forearm in both hands, but the pressure only increases, the pleasure igniting. Arousal turns me slicker. He massages me with that gun, harder but slower, keeping me on the edge.
I don’t want to come, not like this. Not when I hate him and when he’s lost control. I never want to come for him again, but my muscles are already tightening inside.
His pupils dilate as he watches me. He can see I’m fighting, willing this not to happen, and he’s going to make sure I lose again.
I hiss when he palms my sore ass and curls his fingers around my globe, using the leverage to drag me closer.
“Is this where you want it?” he asks, his tone seductive as he pushes the barrel over my clit.
I’m not sure if he means the touch or a bullet. In any event, I want neither. Unable to conjure words, I shake my head.
He abandons my clit and pulls the gun lower. “Watch.”
I shake my head again.
He lets go of my ass and fists a handful of my hair, using the strands like a rope around his hand to force my head down. He parts me slowly with the muzzle, gathering my arousal. My heartbeat spikes. I struggle in his hold, fighting a losing battle as that fog that defines his darkness travels over me again. The metal sight on the muzzle scrapes against my flesh as he pushes the barrel deeper, using my own slickness to fuck me with his gun.
He twists his wrist from side to side, lodging it deeper. His words are soft, cajoling. “Is this where you want it, cara? Do you still want to play that game?” Crueler now. “I can take out a bullet and play Russian roulette.”
I whimper as he moves the barrel, imitating the act we did twice. Twice too many.
He walks me backward until my thighs hit the bed and my legs fold. It only takes a push, and I fall on the mattress. Towering over me, he teases me with the barrel inside. He’s careful, not hurting me with me the sight tip on the front of the muzzle. It’s more of a mild irritation like the scratch his cock left in my throat.
“Watch,” he orders again, pressing the pad of his thumb on my clit.
My pulse skyrockets. It feels as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest. It’s not only the warped, perverse, and foolishly dangerous situation. It’s the look in his eyes, a look that reminds me I don’t really know him at all. That I don’t know what he’s capable of.