Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
His hand is behind my head before I can decide on my next course of action.
“I’m going to hurt you, Lauren. I’m going to fuck you so hard some days, so long that even your begging won’t make me stop because that’s what I’m going to need from you.”
I nod, my throat thick with emotions.
“I would never cause you that kind of pain.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe him.
“I will bite you, whip you, draw blood on your skin. I’m a sinister motherfucker, but I’d never pour hot fucking grease on you.”
I’m shaking at this point, the fear from thinking he could do something like that mixing with the realization that the man can practically read my mind. It’s exactly what I thought, and as much as I’ve been hurt, burns are the worst.
“Understand?”
I open my eyes to find him watching me. He has to shake me by the grip he has on the back of my neck before I answer.
“Yes.”
He leans in closer.
“If you fucking kiss me, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
A wide grin curls his lips up. “There’s my girl. Now, how do you like your eggs?”
“Fried,” I answer before thinking, as if I’m being asked for my order in a restaurant.
His grin grows wider. “Scrambled it is.”
I watch his gorgeous ass as he walks back to the stove, his back muscles rippling under his tan skin.
“I’m going to sit you in my lap while we eat. Just telling you so you can decide if you’re going to let it happen or if I need to tie you up.”
His eyes are dark and promising when he looks back at me again.
I still haven’t made up my mind as he puts all the food on one plate before walking across the room and patting his lap after sitting in the only chair at the very small kitchenette.
“Is this because you only have one chair?” I ask as I cross the room.
Other than when he’s fucking me, I think this is possibly the most we’ve really spoken, and I’m feeding off this attention from him.
“And I don’t plan to get another one,” he confirms, pulling me back further against his chest when I try to sit on one knee.
I wiggle on his lap, the only way I can think to rile him up.
He grunts, and I try to hide my smile and fail.
“Maybe I should get naked for this,” he says, but instead of shoving his underwear down, he picks up his fork and stabs at the less than fluffy eggs on the plate.
He holds the fork to my lips, but when I open my mouth to tell him I’m not a baby, he shoves the fork inside before I can get the words out. I turn my head and stare at him as I chew.
“I don’t have many hard limits, Lauren, but if you spit food in my face, you will not like the results, and that’s not a promise of giving you what you say you don’t want but actually do. Don’t fucking test me on this.”
“I’ll never ask you for anything,” I say after swallowing.
He smiles around his own bite of food, smacking my hand when I reach for a piece of bacon.
I have to wait for him to put the fork down and lift the meat to my mouth, and I hate it as much as it thrills me.
I’m actually paying attention to him, something I couldn’t do when he fed me before when I was tied up because I was starving.
His eyes flash with his version of happiness which is a mere step under irritation as I chew.
“Does that mean you’ll never beg me again?”
“I won’t,” I vow just as another piece of bacon meets my lips.
He swipes his thumb roughly on the grease left behind, and I squirm in his lap when he moans as he sucks it clean.
His hand drops to my thigh.
“I know I can make you beg.”
“Maybe I’ll just take what I want instead of asking?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and goddamn this man is just too fucking good looking.
“Yeah?”
I nod.
“You think you’re powerful enough?”
I shrug. I know better than to challenge him.
I slip my hand between my legs, grazing my clit as I reach further down. His cock is right there. It’s been pressing against me since the second he pulled me onto his lap.
“Still hungry?” he asks as I grip his length. I think he may have been right about doing this while we were both naked.
I think sitting on his cock while he feeds me might make the way he’s watching my face a little more bearable. I hate feeling so open and exposed, and I know it has absolutely nothing to do with my lack of clothing.
He reads me too easily. I’ve always prided myself in being able to lie so convincingly.