Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“Why did your cat bite me again? This morning, when you were holding me, he bit me. I was so far gone, I barely knew it, but he did. Flamme rose again. I felt her for a moment. She went wild. Why did he do that?”
He slid his hands down her body to find the hem of her tank. “Shturm has been worried about your little female.” He pulled the shirt over her head and removed her sports bra, spilling her breasts into the cooler air. Gently he cupped the full mounds, thumbs sliding over her nipples. “I love how responsive you are. One small touch and you’re ready for anything.” He tugged and rolled with equal gentleness. When she shivered, he pinched with much more firmness.
“Why has he been worried?”
“She should have been making more appearances, even if they were brief. He wanted to ensure she knew he would take care of her and you. That he’d protect both of you.”
“But he didn’t have to claim her again, did he?” she protested.
He clamped down on her nipples, pinching between his thumb and finger, leaning forward to kiss her neck. “Take off your shorts, Flambé. When you move your hips like that, is the material rubbing? When you rub does it burn?” He increased the pressure on her nipples, distracting her. “I thought about that when you were running ahead of me, the friction between your legs. What kind of panties I wanted to buy for you so you could run and I could torment you and know you were thinking about me while you ran. Were you, baby? Were you thinking about my cock and what it could do to you? How it can make you scream?”
She gasped and came up on her toes. “Yes.” The confession came out in a rush. “You’re all I thought about. You’re mostly what I think about when I’m not working.”
He bent his head to her left breast and sucked, pressing her nipple to the roof of his mouth and then teasing it with a lash of his tongue. She had rope marks around both breasts. Those marks were the deepest. He traced the circles while he gave her right breast equal attention. When he lifted his head, he spun her around abruptly and gave her a little push toward the bathroom, swatting her ass. “Shower.”
By the time Flambé returned, he had everything he wanted set out beside his favorite chair. He showered, taking his time, knowing she was waiting for him naked, walking around the room because he hadn’t told her to stand, hadn’t indicated that he was going to tie her. The anticipation was building in her.
In spite of her desire to deny that her hormones were getting out of control, her female leopard rising to add to the fire already continually spreading through her nerve endings, Flambé couldn’t stay still. Restless, she rubbed her thighs together and paced the floor, casting glances toward the glass door and then toward his chair and the things he had set out.
Sevastyan came into the bedroom completely naked. He knew he looked intimidating. He was big, a brutal-looking man with a thick, wide chest covered in defined muscles and various scars. His cock could be intimidating as well, but Flambé never found it that way. She always seemed fascinated, always prepared to be adoring. What man didn’t want his woman to have adoration for his cock?
He sank into his chair and beckoned her to stand in front of him, facing him. Immediately he pushed her thighs apart. “Are you burning up now?” He kept his voice soft. That same tone that told her he was in charge and expected answers. His fingers moved up her inner thigh slowly, brushing flames deliberately.
“Yes.”
“Here?” He flicked her already exposed clit and she moaned. She was totally inflamed. He flicked a second time a little harder and she had to steady herself, a cry breaking free. “Yes, right there. Everywhere.”
“I can see that. Kneel down, legs apart, and let me get this lotion on your arms and shoulders and then I’ll see what I can do to help. Keep your knees wide, and face me so I can rub this on your breasts as well.”
Obediently, Flambé sank down, not paying much attention until her sex hit the knots in the rough rug made of sisal rope. He had painstakingly made the rug himself, tying the knots and then weaving the rounds until he had a good-sized piece he could use. He’d stashed it just in case it could be useful someday. He was very glad he’d done so when she gave another little cry and rocked her hips.
“Baby, you need to try to stay still for me.” The rough rope would play over her burning sex and the knots would slide on her tender inflamed parts, adding to the coiling tension so that she would strain for release.