Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Knowing that he’s somewhere in this small cabin, my nipples harden rebelliously. Shifting uncomfortably, I blame my body’s reaction on the chill of the cabin air and pull the sheets even tighter against me.
Yeah right.
That doesn’t explain the wetness pooling in my pussy. Throbbing pressure radiates from my core and courses through my limbs, refusing to let me rest peacefully even for a second. A heavy weight settles in the pit of my stomach, making me quiver like an addict in need of a fix.
Count some got damn sheep, Anna. This is insane.
Eyes squeezed shut, I beg my memory to take a break for once. I don’t want to think of him. Please, god, just let me sleep, let me think of anything else but him.
But I can’t, my mind and body won’t obey, images of Robert keep flitting through my mind, tantalizing me, tempting me. And shifting to my side, the sticky wetness coating my thighs can’t be ignored.
I drop one hand under the sheet and cup my aching mound. I’ve never felt this aroused before.
The dull ache I sometimes feel when reading my countless collection of romance novels has nothing on this raw, primal need to rub up against something, anything, hopefully a hard dick. Hopefully a massive pole connected to the man downstairs right now.
Oh god, oh god, what’s going on?
I can’t believe I’m feeling this way over a male who clearly despises me. He said it himself, I’m a gold digging whore. So why can’t I block out his intoxicating scent, those beautiful blue eyes or the way it had felt to be pressed up against his powerful body when he carried me up to the room earlier?
The hard muscles of his thighs had flexed powerfully as he transported us both up the steep flight of stairs. It was like my curvy body was light to him, that I weighed nothing but a feather.
Not once had he struggled with me heaving in his arms, and I have no idea why that makes me so hot. His body is capable and strong. And he’d proved that more than once today, throwing me around.
Stop it, Anna. Just go to sleep already.
On my stomach, I snatch my hand away from my pussy as if it’s on fire. It aches, drenched with need, begging to be stroked.
But tough luck.
There’s no way in hell, I’m going to touch myself thinking of Robert. No matter how undeniably sexy he is, the alpha’s off limits in the fantasy department. It would be wrong, so fucked-up and twisted and I’d never be able to look at myself again.
I refuse to let myself be attracted to the dangerous alpha. He kidnapped you, the voice in my mind reminds helpfully. Fall asleep to that.
Taking another deep breath, I shut my eyes, stiff as a board in the queen-size. And finally, after what feels like hours, I slip into fitful slumber. But images of my brooding captor still fill my mind. What would it be like to be with him? What would it be like to have Robert whisper naughtily in my ear, weighing my breasts in his hands? What would it be like to feel his cock deep in my folds, owning me every which way? Oh god … but I’m damned for sure.
CHAPTER SIX
Robert
Sleep just won’t fucking come. That redheaded Jezebel has me under her spell, and whenever I close my eyes hoping to fall asleep, vivid images of Anna’s gorgeous body taunt me. Shit, I dream of burying my face between those big, creamy boobies, of licking those tight pink nipples. I wanna grab her ass and flip her over before ducking my mouth in that sweet slit. I wanna hear her scream with lust, crying out my name before I feed her my dick, edging it in inch by inch. Because oh yeah, the redhead will like it, I’ll give her the best cock she’s ever tasted.
Twisting and turning, I thrash around in my sheets, struggling to settle down. I grab at the cotton, the smooth slide unbearable against my skin. Shit, what’s going on? Usually I’m dead to the world within minutes, no need to count sheep.
But tonight was different and I didn’t catch a fucking wink. By five a.m. it was hopeless. Throwing the blankets off with a snarl, I stalk to the bathroom and jumped into an arctic cold shower to get rid of my morning wood. It didn’t help one bit, that stiffie refusing to back down.
Fuck! Wrenching off the shower, I get dressed, stalking into the kitchen for coffee. A thick, nasty brew is the only way I’ll make it through the day.
The coffee’s burbling on the stove, and I glance at the clock. Shit, it’s six a.m. What the fuck? Anna needs to wake the hell up. Why suffer through this agony alone? There might as well be two sleep deprived people in this house. After all, how does that old saying go? That’s right, misery loves company, and she’s the prisoner, not me.