Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
He rumbles the word, and I feel a flowering of joy inside me. A giggle very nearly escapes me. He forgives me. Which means I can forgive him.
Which means this is theater. All the world’s a stage, and I am being fucked on it.
“Don’t give the game away, pet,” he purrs, giving me a brief kiss on the cheek, one of his hands sliding around and under me to grip me by the throat.
I know what my role is now. I know what he needs from me, what will salve the wounds that have been inflicted upon him and are bleeding between us.
Marcus Waterstone is one of the most powerful men on the planet, but right here, right now, he needs me to submit. He needs the gift of my submission. He can’t take it. It has to be given.
“Please fuck my holes,” I moan, lifting my voice so I can be heard. “Use me. Use my pussy and my ass and my mouth like you own me. Fill me up with come. Make me fucking drip with your semen. I want to ache every time I look at you because I know your cock is going to ravage another one of my holes.”
I might be laying it on too thick, but the thrill that runs through the crowd tells me they are eating this up. The chemistry between Marcus and I has filled the room with a practically flammable atmosphere. One spark, and we all go up.
“Yes,” he growls. “Every time I see you, you’re going to take something inside you. Even if it’s just a casual finger inside your pussy.”
His crude promises drive me closer toward another climax. I have already come so many times, I don’t know if my body is capable of coming again. He has turned me into an absolute mess, a squirming, writhing, orgasmically wrung out, desperate little fucktoy.
I am his, and there is no denying it, because I have no choice.
I am his lover.
I am his submissive.
I am his pet.
Marcus lifts me up from the floor. He is kneeling, and I am too, my legs bent back outside his thighs, my ass impaled on his cock, one of his big hands around my throat, the other arm around my waist to support my weight, and the hand of that arm between my legs, rubbing and spanking my clit hard.
I orgasm so publicly and powerfully, it’s as though I can’t contain myself. I don’t feel like I’m in my body. My body is a writhing, vibrating, electric thing, and I am floating in and out of consciousness, feeling the pleasure and then being thrust away again by some unseen force.
The crowd of the rich and twisted seem like dark shades to me, encircling us, drawing closer as if they wish they could feel like I feel. There is hunger in their collective gaze. If they could drain me and drink me, they would.
But they cannot, because I am in Marcus’ arms, and even as he fills my ass with his seed, he protects me. I am claimed so thoroughly, nobody on this planet will ever so much as imagine I belong to anybody else.
He stands up, his cock sliding from my aching ass. A stream of his seed traces down my thigh, clinging to the interior of the gorgeous gown.
He lifts me up into his arms, carrying me in the same way a husband carries his newlywed wife over the threshold of their home—but he is not delivering me to a life of wholesome domestic bliss.
He is delivering me both from and to the darkness we will forever share.
EPILOGUE
Charlie
“Do you still want to know what crimes I am responsible for, pet?”
I am lying naked languidly in bed, in a sunbeam that seems to reach us first, high in Marcus’ penthouse. The rest of the city languishes in shadows, but he and I have our own little slice of Olympus here. Marcus is behind me, his muscular body sheltering me from all evils besides the ones inside him.
Much time has passed since my reckoning in the Embassy, and I have come to accept my place with Marcus. There is no escaping him, even if I wanted to—and I do not want to.
What is between us might be wrong and twisted, but it is also close, and connected, and deeply fulfilling. We know one another in ways I have never known anybody else. We know where we are right, but more importantly, we know where we are wrong. There is a darkness between us I have never been able to indulge before, and I adore it—and him.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, no. I don’t think so.”
He smirks at me handsomely. “That would be a burden, wouldn’t it. To know precisely what I am capable of, to really understand the type of man you belong to… that would be hard for a sweet little pet like you. You would be better off believing I was a good man.”