Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“You didn’t think I was going to let you off the hook, did you?”
Hop shook his head. He both dreaded and yearned for whatever Rafe was about to do, and the not knowing was part of the appeal. All of it combined into a dark twisted ball in his gut, but God it ached so good.
So fucking good.
Rafe held out his hand and, without needing to be told, Hop placed his on top. Rafe stood and helped Hop to his feet. Then with a gentle brush of his knuckle against Hop’s cheek he said, “Give it to me.”
Hop handed over the tie. Rafe’s smile was grateful and soft and it lit up all the shadows in the room. Hop almost purred. But then Rafe covered his eyes with the fabric and blocked out the light.
Hop whimpered at the loss, fucking whimpered. But at no point did he ever consider saying no because deep down, this was exactly what he wanted.
For once, he could give in and not fear the price of his desire. Maybe it was their past that gave Hop the confidence that he was safe this time, maybe it was just Rafe.
“Shh,” Rafe whispered then, so close his breath fanned Hop’s cheek. “I’ve got you.”
And Hop believed him.
Chapter Sixteen
Rafe had to blindfold him. It was self-preservation because those blue eyes were killing him. Jesus. The way Hop had sniffed his tie as if he could be inconspicuous about it when he was quivering at Rafe’s feet. Then he looked up through sinfully long lashes, expecting Rafe wouldn’t notice the flush of his cheeks or the rate of his pulse? Like he wouldn’t notice how turned on he was from that smell?
Yeah, right.
Hop was the only thing he could see—a single point of colorful clarity in a blurry, vague world. It’d been either hide those eyes that were too easy to read by far, or lose his cool. So he’d saved himself and added another layer of seduction to their erotic dance. Now he could look and play his fill without giving himself away.
His gaze lowered to Hop’s feet and the heels he wore. They were five-inch bright orange peep-toe platforms. Showstoppers.
Rafe breathed in Hop’s sweaty musk. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, so he darted his tongue out for a taste of the soft skin behind Hop’s earlobe.
Hop moaned and, fuck, was it the sweetest sound Rafe ever heard—tortured and pliant.
God, yes. He pressed a palm hard into his cock and swallowed his own groan. Distance, he needed a little distance, so he stepped back and let Hop feel it too—let him wonder. Sometimes a sub’s own imagination was the best weapon in a Dom’s arsenal.
Thing was, Rafe was also torturing himself and after all the buildup, his patience was critically low.
“Show me your cock,” he ordered next, reveling in Hop’s little tremble.
Rafe always tried to imagine a scene from his partner’s perspective and now was no different. He put himself in Hop’s shoes, being blinded and vulnerable and presenting yourself to someone who was a reminder of things you’d rather have forgotten. How exposed Hop must feel, how helpless.
And still, he obeyed.
Rafe was overwhelmed by Hop’s courage.
As Hop’s unsteady hands struggled with the buttons of his jeans, Rafe soothed him, just a soft caress in Hop’s hair, a sweet connection to communicate how thankful and proud Hop was making him at the moment. It calmed him instantly, which just amazed Rafe even more.
When Hop pushed his pants to his knees, he studied Hop’s cock. Uncut, jutting out from slender hips with bones so sharp they might cut, it was about seven inches long. The swollen head was shiny and peeked from under its protective hood as if to say hello. His balls were high, tight and incredibly hairless.
A rumble of approval escaped Rafe’s chest.
“Tell me why you deserve to be punished.” He circled Hop so he could see his muscular, dance-firm ass. His palms itched with the desire to feel the sting of flesh.
Hop’s voice, when it came, was deeper than Rafe had ever heard it, as if it had been dragged out of him from the darkest depths. “I, uh, I...”
Rafe waited for him to decide exactly what he’d done wrong.
“I shouldn’t have left that night before we finished talking.” Hop’s voice was quiet but steady.
“Very good, that’s true. Don’t do that again.” Rafe smoothed a palm down Hop’s spine to his ass. Just as Hop arched into the touch, Rafe stopped. “What else?” Because there was more, one big thing that needed to be dealt with, and Rafe would keep pushing until Hop admitted it.
“I shouldn’t have avoided you all week.” A hint of frustration tinged Hop’s voice and made Rafe smile.
Rafe closed the distance between them so his warmth would soak into Hop’s back, and whispered, “I won’t punish you for that because you weren’t mine at the time. But you are now.” He slipped a hand around Hop’s throat and felt him swallow. “Mine.”