Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
How can you love the monster? It’s a sickness, a contagion, no doubt, but I can’t deny the feeling.
Phoenix approaches me with a domineering presence, causing my heart to stutter. He slowly stalks over, stands before me, and places the mugs of coffee on the table where I sit. He places a palm on each side of my face. Very closely, he examines my eyes.
“I hope you plan on obeying today.”
I escape his glare and stare at the floor. “Yes, sir.”
He lifts my chin so I am forced to look into his eyes again. “I hope you have been learning your lesson, no?”
I simply nod.
“Maybe we should take another trip to The Vault for my good girl.”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Do you want another man to fuck you as I watch. As I direct each move?”
I nod.
“But you belong to me. Only belong to me,” Phoenix says, as he strokes the back of my head. “Should I still give you your daily lesson?” He has a wicked gleam to his eye.
“I will not forget the lessons ever,” I admit, hoping that will be enough to prevent another punishment.
“Regardless, I may want you to feel the sting of my lash into the next day,” Phoenix says. “I want every time you sit to remind you that I could whip you daily forever.”
“I will remember,” I whisper.
“I know you will,” he says as he hands me a mug and then sips from his own. “Which is why we are leaving Olympus Manor and going to Seattle.”
“Seattle?” I’m not sure I’m excited to hear the news or sad. I like his attic, and I’ve only got to be in it for the night.
“Consider it a comfort item,” he says. “I can’t expect you to be locked away, and like you said yesterday, it will be good for us to get out. I have the helicopter coming this morning to pick us up and bring us there.”
“I’d like that. Very much.”
“But first”—he places his mug back on the table—“stand up and bend over the table.”
I pause for a moment, not wanting to do what he asks, but at the same time, I do. The confusion in my body and mind almost paralyzes me.
“Now,” is his only command.
As if his deep voice is a spell, enchanting me to do his bidding, I do just as he asks, staring into his deep, dark eyes as I willingly bend over the table in his attic. Everything I do, everything I think, is traitorous to the depths of my core. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t crave it. I should be screaming, clawing, hating this man with every living inch of my body. But I don’t.
When I place my palm against the table’s wood, Phoenix puts his hand atop mine, lacing his fingers and taking hold. I feel his breath on my neck as he presses his body against my spine. The rough fabric of his pants rubs against the bare flesh of my bottom and thighs.
“Did that man fuck you good at The Vault?” he purrs into my ear as he runs his free hand along the edge of my hip.
“Yes.”
A sharp spank to my ass reveals he does not like my answer.
“Yes, sir. That man fucked me good,” I correct. The saliva in my mouth dissipates as the nerves take over. Will he be angry today, even though it was his idea? Will he be jealous now that he has time to process what he watched? Does he regret taking me to The Vault?
“And did you like it?”
I nod, which again earns me two hard swats to my ass. My pussy throbs with each slap. I hunger for more.
“Yes, sir. I did.” One thing is for sure. I will never lie to Phoenix again.
He runs his fingertips along the surface of my upturned butt and dips between the crease, running them from my anus, to my taint, to my pussy, to my clit. “Look how wet you are.” He pushes a finger past my folds, into my pussy, and begins pumping it. “What gets you so wet, my dove?”
“You,” I barely say between my gasps.
“Elaborate.” He adds a second finger to the one already finger-fucking me.
“Your dominance. Your control. You.”
He removes his palm from mine and uses his hand to start spanking me while he fingers me at the same time. The combination of pleasure and pain has me moaning and writhing against the table’s coldness. The spanking is not gentle, and his fingers thrust firmly inside me.
Rising up on my tiptoes with every thrust, I finally cry out. “Please!”
“Please what?” he asks as he pumps and spanks, never easing up in the slightest.
“Please, I can’t take any more.” I don’t truly want him to stop, but I need more. I need so much more.
“Do you want to fuck me?” he asks.