Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Was he having second thoughts?
Would he use this to hurt me tomorrow?
I couldn’t read him; my gaze dropped to his mouth.
His lips pursed, and dammit, I wanted him to kiss me. Fuck me. Ruin me.
When I looked back up, his eyes burned brighter than any flame, completely green with no trace of hazel. A heavy kind of lust. The deepest kind of want.
Hunter finally came to a stop as he reached into his pocket.
All three of us stood panting, glaring at the final door.
See-through but black inside as if no one had turned on the lights.
Withdrawing a small key, Hunter inserted it, turned it, then opened the door, and without a word, dragged us mostly willing inside.
The sound of our shared breathing scratched over my oversensitive skin just before Hunter flicked on a light and revealed the place where I would lose every shred of what was left of my virginity.
Not my sexual virginity—I’d lost that in a fumbling mess in the back of my first boyfriend’s Mazda when I was sixteen. Oh no, this was so much more than just a tiny hymen. This was the ruining of my soul, my essence, the very fabric of who I was.
If I did this, I would never be Ella the microbiologist again.
I’d be Ella the girl who’d been ravaged by two men and wanted to do it again and again and again.
Hunter flicked another set of dim lights on, dousing me with eroticism.
As far as the other rooms went, with their funhouse themes and larger-than-life phalluses, this room was understated. Black pleather panels lined the walls, secured into place with velvet buttons, ruching the material so the entire room looked like a decadent headboard.
In the centre, on a platform raised with three wide, waterfalling steps was the biggest bed I’d ever seen. A bed with four posters carved from black wood, black gauze draped down from the top rails, flowing down the steps to gather like shadows on the floor.
Only a simple satin sheet covered the bed, almost as if any other blankets would just get in the way. A table held a bottle of champagne and a few glasses. A dewy bowl of ice-cold fruit waited to be eaten, and classical music poured right into my bloodstream, seducing me.
Not that I needed any more seducing.
But then...my eyes fell on the wall to our left and everything else faded.
A rack from floor to ceiling.
A rack holding every sized flogger, dildo, whip, cuff, gag, ball gag, butt plug, rope, silks, and paddles imaginable.
I sucked in a breath just as Nick groaned. “Fuck, this is really happening.”
“This is really happening,” Hunter murmured.
The large mirror to the right caught my reflection as my breathing slipped into hyperventilation. Dabbling with the idea of being at a man’s mercy made me crazy with want, but coming face-to-face with a room full of sexual torture, and not just one man but two ready to use them on me, sent frissons of fear bolting right into my toes.
My little black dress burst into flames against my skin.
My chest flushed in the mirror. My cheeks red. My eyes feverish. My oh so tiny and fragile body sandwiched between two controlling Dominants.
Nicholas tugged his slippery hand from mine, his breathing harsh and irregular. His own nervousness fed mine instead of soothed it—feeding me his agitation, anticipation...stuffing a cage full of frantic butterflies into my belly.
I stole a look at him, biting my lip.
His eyes no longer held green fire but smouldering emeralds. No light. No disdain. Only the crippling, savaging surge of aching, breaking need.
I swayed into him as Hunter stalked toward the rack.
The black sconces barely lit up the room. The eclipse drapery hushed everything but this. Us. Now.
Nick sucked in another tattered breath.
He stepped into me.
His hand landed on my hip.
I convulsed.
A full-body convulsion, complete with a flood of moisture between my legs.
Damn, if he made me react like that from a single possessive claiming, how badly would I break the moment he entered me?
My heart tripped and stumbled, forgetting how to beat.
Pulling me into him, Nick didn’t stop until my breasts pressed against his chest, and his other hand came up to cup my cheek.
Soft.
Sweet.
A lie.
Slinking his fingers into my hair, he fisted my chestnut strands, holding me firm.
I tried to tame my breathing, but it was utterly impossible as I stared into his dangerously hungry eyes, noticing the greed—the ravenous, violent hunger that I always mistook for scorn.
“We do this, and we never speak about it again,” he whispered. His voice resembling a beast with brimstone in his heart and sizzling coals in his throat. “It stays here. In this place. Agreed?”
My head nodded on its own accord.
My body in charge instead of my mind.
I couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t move.
I yielded to him in every way possible.
His fingers tugged my hair, sending a wash of pinpricks down my back. “Answer me.”