Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Fucking pathetic,” Silvan spits, shaking his head. He stands and walks over to grab Dylan by the hair, pulling him back up on his hands and knees. “Get the fuck up, you worthless piece of shit.” Leaning down, he gets in Dylan’s face and tells him, “You are an object, not a person. You’re a fucking ottoman, you understand? Objects sit where the fuck they’re put and take whatever is doled out to them until and unless they break, then they’re tossed aside and easily replaced because they don’t matter. That’s what you are now. That’s what you are unless I decide otherwise, and let me assure you that glaring at my fucking woman, looking at her at all? Not how you get there. Nod that you understand me.”
Sniveling and snotty, Dylan nods his head.
Yuck.
I’m grimacing when Silvan straightens and looks back at me. A smirk plays across his lips as he slowly walks over to me. He’s shirtless and wearing just a pair of black sweats. He looks yummy and reminds me more than ever of the night we met when he was a sexy Viking and I was his captive slave girl.
He stops in front of me, looking down at me still sitting on the edge of the couch. His gaze is dark and hooded. I want to touch him, so I do. Tentatively, I reach out and touch his hips. I look up and watch his face to see his reaction, then I palm his cock through the soft fabric.
It hardens beneath my hand. He slides his fingers through my hair, rough and tender at the same time. On pure animal instinct, I slide to the floor, dumping my purse upside down, and get on my knees for Silvan.
He backs up just enough to make room for me, his lips tugging up with quiet approval as I tug his sweats down, then his black boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and springs free right in my face. I grab it with one hand and lean in to kiss it, then I open up and take him into my mouth.
He grabs the other side of my head with his other hand, cradling it, stabilizing me as I take his cock deeper. I’m hungry for it. I want to please him. I stroke his shaft, my lips working their way up and down his impressive length. I look up at him as I work to make sure he still looks pleased with me, and the warmth on his handsome face warms me right up.
“Did I forget to tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks idly, sliding one hand around to the back of my head. “Because you’re fucking stunning.” He pushes my head forward. “Even prettier with that perfect mouth full of my cock.”
He takes control and I let him. I’m happy to have my mouth used for his pleasure.
“Maybe I’ll spend the night fucking your face, baby. Just like this.”
I whimper around his cock at the thought of it. I want that. But I want more, too. I can feel the wetness gathering between my legs just from sucking him, and as he gets rougher taking what he wants from me, I get wetter.
He fucks my throat, controlling how deep he goes, how hard. It’s a struggle for me to breathe, but his firm hand on the back of my head keeps me from pulling back unless he wants me to.
When he pulls out of me, I sit back on my heels and watch him stroke his cock.
“You want this, baby?”
I nod eagerly. “Yes, please.”
He smiles. “Take your panties off. Leave the skirt on, though. I like the skirt.”
So does Dylan.
I feel a sick thrill at the thought of him having to listen from over there as Silvan gets on the floor behind me, peels up that skirt Dylan has gawked at me in so many times, and shoves his cock into me. He peels my coat off and tosses it on the couch, then he grabs my hips and holds on so he can push himself deeper.
“Fuck, baby. Always so goddamn tight.”
I’ve never felt so turned on in my life. I push my ass back against him to take him deeper, faster. I want him all the way inside me. I want him to fucking wreck me.
“Silvan, please.” I brace my palms on the hardwood floor. I always let him control the pace, but I want it so bad right now, I’m tempted to ask for it.
As usual, though, Silvan anticipates my needs before I have to.
This isn’t a slow, tender lovemaking, it’s a primal claiming, a show of exactly who the fuck I belong to in front of the only other male who has ever put his hands on me.
He grabs my hair, gripping it tight enough to hurt a little. “You’re mine,” he says, thrusting into me from behind. “Tell him.”