Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Warm, thick arms wrap around me as I utter a brief yet embarrassing noise, and then he’s pushing me at the wall, and I’m sandwiched between his chest and the hard, cold tiles. I exaggerated my problem with the thin green top to appear even more defenseless than I am, but now something about it turns me on too, and I get to my toes as he rips the fabric off.
My heart is pounding like mad. I’m playing with fire, but I’ll only get to make my move if he doesn’t see me as a threat. Too bad it’s hard to focus on attacking him when his tongue teases my palate. I’ve not been hugged in years, let alone touched this way by anyone. And he isn’t just a random guy at the nightclub either. Nico’s painfully handsome, I have to give him that. When his large hands slide up and down my sides, I don’t have to fake a reaction. I shiver.
I’ve fantasized countless times about what it would be like to be stroked and petted by another man, but this is so much more than I could have imagined. He’s confident, he smells so good I want to press my face against him, and even the touch of his shirt is pleasant against my skin. If only he was anyone else. Or at least not the literal serial killer I’ve been following for years. That’s not really so much to ask for, is it?
I’ve been psyching myself up to seduce him all day. I came up with lines I could say and whole scenarios I was ready to follow in order to get his guard down, but none of that could have prepared me for the sensation of being cradled, for his insistent yet gentle lips, and the way my body would fill with heat in his presence.
How ironic that in the process of distracting him, I have done it to myself.
“I… I mean…”
Nico steps back, and I hate myself a little for already missing his touch. I thought I was smarter than that, but my body didn’t get the memo from my brain, and it’s horny.
When he looks at me with piercing blue eyes and licks his lips like he’s about to eat me, my dick twitches in excitement. I should be worried whether he’s a cannibal, not getting turned on.
“Sorry, I might have gotten ahead of myself.” His voice is like a purr, all softness and promise. How fucked up is it that this is my first experience? What if it imprints on me, and I’ll only get hard in high-adrenaline situations?
That’s what therapy’s for, I suppose. All I care about is getting out of here, because even if he doesn’t plan to murder me like that other guy, what if I end up being his prisoner for years, locked up in this terrible basement of always-Christmas, away from the sunshine, my wings clipped on the cusp of leaving the family nest?
With new determination, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him right back to me. While having his weight press me to the wall again is sending electricity to my balls, this time I’m ready for it.
This is a distraction. This is a distraction, Blake. For survival, I tell myself as my entire body shivers with delight when he cups my ass.
“I guess we can have dinner later,” Nico whispers in my ear, then licks it. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve been dreaming about this ass all day.” He squeezes my butt, making me get to my tiptoes so Nico can grab more of me.
I’m a mess with a rattling heart, because what if I miscalculated? What if I’m unable to escape yet put too many promises in his head? I can’t become some psycho’s basement fuck toy. That can’t be my life.
I shouldn’t want his touch as much as I do.
When his fingers tease my crack through fabric as he lazily kisses my ear, then my neck, I get lost in my own game. How can something so wrong feel this good? And while we’re at it, how can someone so violent be this hot? It’s not fair.
Excitement rushes along my limbs, and I cup his face as we kiss. I knew I was drawn to muscular, dominant guys, but as he kneads my buttocks and cages me against the wall, it’s all but confirmed, because my pleasure centers are on fire.
“Yes. Later,” I agree, but there’s enough brains left in my overcooking skull to stay alert. I open one eye and, once Nico’s lips descend my throat, I look around for potential weapons.
But as I consider if the ceramic cup on the sink will be hard enough, he slides one hand between our bodies and pets my dick through fabric. I mewl and arch into him instinctively as if he’s pressed a sex button in my brain.