My Favorite Kidnapper Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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I crossed my arms. “You are completely insane. Again, you prove you are the worst kidnapper in the history of kidnappers. You are going to be kicked out of the club. You don’t give the kidnappee a credit card and tell her to go shopping.”

He rubbed his chin, looking like he was going to laugh and trying not to. “What should I do?” He waved his hand in the air, moving his fingers like an invitation. “Since you’re a kidnapper-behavior expert, how should I be behaving?”

“I would expect someone with your sweet tooth to have me chained to the kitchen and denied anything but the basic necessities and the ingredients to bake. Dressed in rags like Cinderella and locked up at night. Not taken on trips, bought pretty clothes, given a bike, or—”

He cut me off with a wicked smile. “Given as many orgasms as you can handle?” He stepped closer. “I’d happily chain you, Little Bee, but it would be to my bed. I’d deny you the basics and hand-feed you only the best. I prefer you naked, so we can forget about new clothes. And I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Um.”

“You don’t want the orgasms to stop, do you?”

“Oh, ah, no. But I mean it. You’re out of the club.”

“They’re a bunch of pussies anyway. I like the company of my own little club. She is far sweeter than any cake ever made anyway.” Then he caught my mouth with his and kissed me until I was dizzy. “I retired from the kidnapping game, Little Bee. I can’t get a better hostage.”

I shook my head to clear it. “Best out before the shame of being kicked out, then.”

He nodded, grinning. He tilted up my chin and kissed me. “I’ll see you in a while.”

I baked some cookies. Dante was a huge peanut butter fan, but I added chocolate chips and folded in some English toffee bits. They smelled incredible. I went back to the balcony, curling up on a chair in the sun. It felt odd to hear the bustling city again, the sounds of people, cars, voices. I shifted in the chair, shocked at how quickly I’d gotten used to the quiet of the villa and the slow pace of the little town close to it.

The idea of leaving it, leaving him, was never far from my thoughts. I counted the cakes in my head. Twelve. That meant I had forty-eight left. I didn’t count the cookies, and I knocked off the trifle I had made one night. The fruit had proven too tempting not to buy when I was in the small town, and I had soaked it in rich Amaretto, making the ladyfingers and using a mascarpone cheese layer with cream. It was incredible, and Dante had dragged me downstairs in the middle of the night to finish it off. He licked some of it off my body, using me like a dish, then we swam in the pool, washing off the sticky.

I had given him my first blow job that night. He propped himself up on his elbows on the top step as I knelt in the water, staring up at him. When I wrapped my hand around him, he smiled.

“What do you want, Little Bee?”

“To taste you.”

His eyes widened. “Jesus, yes.”

He was gentle and coaxing. I was nervous and wanting to please him. His mouth on me felt so good, I wanted to know if mine was the same for him.

His erection was big, slightly curved, and felt hot and heavy in my hand. I was tentative at first, running my tongue along the length. His low grunt of approval made me brave, and I took him in my mouth, sucking lightly. He had cursed, letting his head fall back. I took as much of him in as I could, and he showed me how to stroke him.

“Play with my balls, Little Bee. Suck me. Use your tongue. Whatever you think I might like, I will.”

His praise made me bold, and I took him deeper. Used my tongue to tease him. I played with his balls, rolling them in my hands as he groaned. He put his hand on my head, guiding me but never forcing, never pushing. I pushed myself, gagging more than once, my eyes watering, but I kept going, and soon, he pushed on my shoulders. “Enough, Little Bee. I want to be inside you when I come.”

I refused to budge, instead going deeper and faster. He made me come with his mouth; I was going to do the same.

He gripped the top step, arching his back. “I can’t…”

And he came. Hot, long spurts hit the back of my throat, and I was triumphant when I lifted my head. He stared at me, his chest heaving.

“You’ve never done that before?”


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