Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
To say the inside was more breathtaking than the outside was an understatement. This place was fit for royalty. I stood there, turning in a slow circle, looking at everything I could and feeling as if I would never see it all.
“Let me take you to the game room, and we can get a drink. You probably should sit down after that walk. I don’t want Maeme mad at me for causing you to do too much with your ribs healing,” he said.
I wanted to argue and continue on a tour of the place, but I simply nodded. A drink would be nice, and my side was hurting more than it had been the past few days. As we made our way down the center of the place, I tried not to miss a thing. The ceilings were high, but they were smooth wooden planks, much like a hardwood floor would look. Ceiling fans and recessed lighting were scattered about in a pattern, but the center of the open area was a gorgeous chandelier. Not what you’d expect in stables.
“The colt is just up ahead. We will go there after you sit for a few,” Sebastian informed me. “This way,” he then instructed, turning right and toward a door smaller than the front doors but identical in looks. All the doors inside were.
A woman’s scream stopped me. I turned my head toward the door we had just passed, and my heart began to slam against my ribs wildly. Another scream. I took a step back and sucked in a breath. What was happening?
“OH GOD, YES!” she shouted loudly.
I frowned. She’d been screaming in pain, hadn’t she? Now, she sounded as if she were…
“Sorry about that. Just keep moving. Seems someone needed to let off steam,” Sebastian replied, and I turned to him to see he was trying not to smile.
Another scream of pain. I tensed. Something bad was happening. No one screamed like that from pleasure.
“She’s fine. I promise. I know it sounds bad, but she’s enjoying it. He wouldn’t be doing it if she wasn’t. Let’s go,” he said to me, then pulled open the door and waved his hand for me to enter.
I wasn’t sure I should be here. No one enjoyed being hurt. Screaming was not a good thing. Did she need help? I shouldn’t have come here. I started to back away and shake my head. I couldn’t run.
“HARDER, SIR!” the female voice shouted.
My eyes flew open wider as I stared at the door. What on earth was happening in there?
“Come on, Rumor. Trust me, that’s going to just get more intense,” Sebastian told me.
More intense? I shook my head, not understanding any of this, and turned to look at him.
“What…why is she screaming?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
He let out a heavy sigh. “Because she likes rough sex. Being tied up and whipped is my guess since that is supposed to be a tack room. But I swear to you that she went in there willingly and wanting it. They always do,” he said, then gave me an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know he was in there, or I wouldn’t have brought you this way.”
Who was he? I started to ask and stopped myself. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to leave.
“Come on. You can’t hear that in here, and you need to sit down. Rest a bit.”
Unsure, I stared at the inside of the room as he waited for me to move. Leaving would be dramatic, and I did want to see the rest of the place. But why would someone want to be whipped and tied up? I didn’t understand that at all.
Finally, I gave in and went into the game room. When the door closed behind Sebastian, the sounds of the woman were gone. I wanted to forget what I had heard, and I also wanted to get an explanation for it. I knew people had rough sex and did kinky things. I hadn’t been living under a rock. But I didn’t realize it was so painful that it would cause someone to scream like that. Wasn’t it about pleasure ultimately? Did she truly want to be hurt?
“What can I fix you to drink? I have everything you could want,” he told me, walking over to the bar setup, equivalent to that at a nice restaurant.
Was there anything this place didn’t have?
“Water,” I replied.
“Still or sparkling?” he asked me as he stepped behind the bar and went to take a glass off the rack.
“Sparkling.”
While he proceeded to fix drinks, I took in the room. It was the size of my cottage. A pool table, a black leather sectional sofa, a screen that covered the left wall—which I assumed was supposed to be a television maybe, although I’d never seen one like that. A fireplace that was so large that it almost covered the back wall with four black leather chairs set around it. Then a round card table with eight chairs surrounding it sat in the center of the room.