The Baby (The Boss #5) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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Life was funny, sometimes.

While my oral technique involved a lot of teasing, Neil was more of a straight-to-the-point guy when it came to sucking dick. I almost felt threatened by how enthusiastic Emir’s responses were, until I remembered that having a penis probably made a person much more knowledgeable about how to touch one. My greedy gaze was torn between the expressions contorting Emir’s face into a shifting tableau of pleasure, to Neil, somehow smug even with a cock in his mouth.

The fingers of one of Neil’s hands dug into the tight flesh of Emir’s ass, and I whimpered at the sight. Both of them chuckled at that.

“What’s the matter, Chloe?” Emir asked breathlessly. “Feeling left out?”

I nodded and licked my lips.

“Do you suppose that’s part of your punishment?” he asked, nodding down at Neil.

My Sir released Emir’s cock with a wet pop. “I’d quite like to give her the rest of her punishment.”

“I’d quite like to come in your mouth, but I suppose I have to wait?” Emir teased him.

I didn’t giggle, even though I wanted to. I would be breaking my role. But I loved the look on Neil’s face, the small, shocked smile he gave Emir and the warm affection behind it.

Maybe it should have threatened me, knowing that my husband had feelings for Emir. But I’d learned a lot about love since Neil had come into my life, and the most important so far had been that feelings weren’t finite; he could love me and Emir, at the same time but differently.

“While I would love to swallow every drop,” Neil replied, pausing to run his tongue around the swollen red head of Emir’s penis, “Perhaps we should move on. I’m sure Chloe is dying to know what her punishment is.”

Dying to know, and dreading it all the same. My Sir stood and grabbed me with one hand in my hair, the other around my shackled wrists. I had no choice but to stagger to my feet or get dragged.

The large bondage frame in the center room awaited, and delicious panic curled up though me. Once they restrained me there, I would be helpless.

Emir helped me step onto the small footrests that would prevent my upper body from being burdened with too much weight. Suspension was fun, but I drew the line at actual crucifixion. Neil hooked my shackled wrists to the center of the bar over my head and fixed my ankles to the sides of the frame.

“Nothing too tight? No muscle strain?” he asked, checking my arms, once again.

“No, Sir,” I answered.

“When your arms get tired, tell me,” he instructed. He could make even safety considerations sound like a threat, threading them seamlessly into our play. I was never in real danger, but he was so good at making it seem like I might be.

“Emir, I believe you have a surprise for Chloe?” Neil said, and I took the humor in his voice as a warning.

“I will go and get that,” Emir said, and he padded off to the comfort room, his bare feet slapping the floor.

Our canes were stored just steps away, hanging vertically on two ornate racks. They all differed in material, finish, and diameter. Some were shorter and had curled ends, like a handle Neil could hold so he could really give me a hard over-the-knee spanking. He walked slowly to the racks and let his fingers linger on the heaviest of the canes, the one I was actually quite afraid of. When he lifted his hand to select the thinnest we had, I sucked in a breath. I was both relieved and apprehensive; I was glad he hadn’t gone with the first one, but the thin rattan stung like a bastard. He chose the straight cane. He could grip that with two hands.

He stepped up to me and gently flicked the tip of the cane between my breasts. He would never actually strike me there with the implement. He drew the cane slowly down my body, anticipation running ahead of it, waking my skin and exciting every nerve.

“Are you ready, Sophie?” he asked, now that we were alone.

I bucked against my bonds as the end of the cane came nearer and nearer to my vulva. “Yes, Sir.”

He let the polished end of the rattan slip between my labia, over my clit, and I whimpered.

“Playing without me?” Emir called, and I jerked my head up. He carried something in his hands. I squinted as I tried to make it out. He held it up with a smirk.

It was a long chunk of…ginger. Those sons of…

“I thought you might like to try,” Sir said. He walked behind me and ran his hands down my sides, curving under to cup my buttocks. He parted my cheeks and slowly withdrew the plug. My face went hot with shame. I didn’t know why I still felt like butt stuff was dirty beyond anything else we did, but at least that hang-up made it more hot for me.


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