Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
So his.
Finally, finally he palms a tit in his rough hand and says, “Fucking your tits.”
I arch into his ministrations. “Oh, I knew about that.”
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, that’s a pretty popular one with me. Right up there, in my top five.”
“You have a top five.”
“I have a top ten,” he corrects me. “But we’ll go with five for now.”
Biting my lip, I go, “What else?”
At this, he moves his hungry eyes away from my tits and goes to my braid. It’s half loosened and draped over my shoulder, the tail brushing his torso.
He picks it up and wraps it around his wrist like he did the night of his fight. He takes a whiff, a snort and rubs it on his lips. And I think that this is the hottest thing that I’ve ever seen; I thought the same thing that night as well.
That nothing in this world is hotter, sexier than Reign Davidson smelling my hair, slathering my scent all over his beautiful face. And I fist his t-shirt at his shoulders, squirming against him.
Which makes him open his eyes, all dark and dilated.
Then, “Fucking your hair. But you already knew that too.”
I hiccup. “B-but I don’t know how you’d do that.”
Which makes him chuckle again. This one’s tortured as well as he says, “Well, I’m good at improvising. But I think I’d start with rubbing my dick in it. In your honey-blonde hair. Making it all wet and messy with my pre-cum.” He tugs on my braid, watching his dusky hand around my strands. “And then I’d take a fistful of it and wrap it around my thick meat. And then I’d hump it. I’d hump your hair like I hump my fist thinking about it. And then I’d blow in five fucking seconds.”
I swallow. “F-five seconds?”
“Yeah.” He looks up. “If I get to fuck your hair, Bubblegum, I’m coming all over it in less than five seconds.”
“But it takes me a really long time t-to tie my braids.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on,” he says, his eyes both intense and amused. “I’m counting on the fact that it takes my good girl at least a fucking hour to do her hair. Because that’ll make it even more fun for me to mess it up.”
I frown when I feel him tug my braid again.
I also moan, all horny, at the prospect of him ruining my hair.
“That’s just mean,” I tell him.
Which makes him chuckle again. “Well, what if I told you it’s good for your hair?”
“You fucking it?”
His mouth pulls up in a lopsided smirk. “Yeah, and coming all over it.”
“I —”
He leans over and whispers against my mouth, “And for your skin.”
“Your cum is good for my skin?”
“Uh-huh,” he rasps, kissing my mouth softly. “My cum is going to make you all pink and pretty. Shiny as fuck. So you should let me come on your face every single day. Twice a day.”
“You’re m-making that up.”
He hums, smirking against my lips. “Maybe. But you should let me do it anyway.”
“Is that in your top five?”
“To give you a facial? Fuck yeah.”
“Is that what it’s called?”
“Yeah. It’s like a reward, see.”
“L-like the pearl necklace.”
He kisses my lips softly. “Yeah, exactly like that.”
I kiss him back. “What else?”
Kissing me again, he goes on, “Wanna tie you up.”
“Y-you do?”
“Yeah.”
“With ropes?”
“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But mostly my belt. I’ve got a nice black leather belt. Soft and supple. Tight.”
My heart is racing again. “I’ve never… I’ve never been tied up before.”
“Yeah, I know, Bubblegum,” he says. “Didn’t think you had.”
“Is it…” I swallow, “Is it going to hurt?”
At this, his chuckle is definitely dirty and erotic and makes me whimper. “My poor little crybaby.”
“I’m not,” I grumble even though I so am.
“No, it won’t hurt,” he tells me, kissing and kissing, giving me his tongue now. “Not the tying up part.”
“So then, which part?”
“The part that comes after I’ve got you all tied up in my bed.”
“What will you do?”
In response, he gives me his tongue to suck on.
Like candy maybe. Like an anesthetic.
A drug to keep me all sedated and calm.
A potion to keep me docile and obedient. So I don’t freak out when he tells me what he has to tell me. So I don’t scream too much when he strikes.
And knowing all that, I still suck on it and suck on it.
Because I want to be struck. I want to be obedient.
I want to be under his influence and be his good girl.
“You already know, don’t you?” he coos. “You know what I’ll do to you when I tie you up.”
My lips slip against his when I whisper, “I-I think so.”
“Yeah, because that’s my number one fantasy.”
“To get me pregnant.”
“Yeah, baby. Dreaming about tying you up in my bed and breeding you is how I’ve lived my life for years now. So much so that I don’t even think it’s my obsession anymore. I don’t even think it’s a sickness.”