Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She glances at the door, then back up at me.
“Do it.”
She turns and faces the wall but keeps her gaze over her shoulder on me.
“Hands up above your head,” I instruct, taking them and dragging them up. “There. Now spread your legs.”
“Bastian,” she starts, tone different. Less demanding. But I’ve had enough.
“Do it.”
She does.
“Stay just like that no matter what, or this will be much worse. Do you understand?”
She nods, shuddering as she braces herself.
I stand back and look at her. Although of average height, she’s petite with narrow shoulders and a tapered waist. She’s maybe a hundred and ten pounds. I trace the line of her spine and feel her stiffen, goose bumps rising in the wake of my touch. When I reach her lower back, she whimpers.
“Quiet.”
She nods.
I grip her ass cheeks, and she’s up on tiptoe, her hands coming off the wall.
“What did I say?”
I can see the effort it takes her to put her hands back where I want them.
“Better.” I weigh her fleshy cheeks. She has a rounder ass than you’d expect for how slender she is. I raise my right hand and smack one cheek.
She jumps, gasps, and instinctively makes to turn around.
Before she can, though, I press her to the wall with a hand between her shoulder blades. “What did I say?”
“Get off me.”
“What did I say?”
“How many?”
“As many as it takes for you to feel me all night long. Now put your hands where I told you.”
She does, and I slap her inner thighs.
“Spread your legs. Good. Now be still.” I spank her ass before she can say a word, quick hard smacks on both cheeks until she’s gasping for breath and clenching her cheeks.
“That’s better,” I say, taking in my handprint. “Are you ever going to flip me off again?”
“Probably.”
I chuckle, then slap her ass. “Good. I’d hate for this to be your last spanking.”
“Fuck you.”
“We’ll get to it.”
“I didn’t mean—”
I grip both cheeks and draw her back a little so her back arches and her ass is tilted upward. The position has her shutting up. “I don’t like you, Dandelion,” I tell her.
“The feeling is mutual, Bastian.”
“You don’t stop, do you?”
“Not normally, no.”
“No?” I splay her cheeks apart and crouch down to look at her. “How about now?” She’s quiet. I don’t think she’s breathing. I see the glistening lips of her pussy and her tight little asshole. Take in the drip of arousal on her inner thigh. I lean my face into her and inhale as she gasps, then lick her from her dripping pussy to her ass to the top of her crack before straightening.
“You’re going to feel every inch of me when I take those tight little holes,” I tell her, voice raw with desire as I press my erection against her.
She tries to turn, but I keep her where she is.
“Please don’t—”
“You know what else I don’t like, little Dandelion?”
I slip one hand around to her clit and rub.
“Please, Bastian, I—”
“I don’t like wanting you. But I do. As does Amadeo. But let me make one thing very clear.” I thrust slowly against her, then draw away and dig my fingernails into her ass cheeks until she yelps. I lean in close so she’ll feel my breath at her ear. “Don’t think you’ll use that to come between us. You’re going to be our little fuck toy. A perk. Do you understand that, Dandelion? Because that’s all you are. A weed. Something to be trampled on without a thought and eventually plucked out of existence entirely.”
She looks back at me, defiance and fear warring. “Let me go. Get away from me. I did what you wanted tonight. I did—”
“Let’s be very clear. You did what my brother wanted.”
“I said let me go.” She tries to wriggle free.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand you’re fucking bipolar!”
I chuckle. “Do you feel me, sweetheart?” I grind my hips against her, making sure she does. “It’s best, for your sake, that I leave your room right now, Dandelion. Tell me you understand so I can do that.”
She turns her head to look at me, searching my eyes. My face. She understands the threat is to be taken very seriously. “Yeah. I understand. You hate me. That makes us the same. Because I fucking hate you, too.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl.”
I release her, stepping backward. She turns to face me. I look her over one more time. “Now get some sleep. We’ll want you well-rested for tomorrow.”
She wants to ask questions. Or tell me to go to hell. I get it. But before she can do either, I walk out of the room and lock the door behind me.
15
Amadeo
Bastian walks into the study as I wrap up my call with Jarno. He’s in New York making arrangements to take the little girl.
“Bastian and I will fly over in a couple of days.”