Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“I can’t tell you that,” he answers simply.
I roll my eyes. “Of course not. How do you even know he wants to buy her now?” He’s trying to guarantee his future that I threatened to take away from him. He never wanted her. Matt is to marry Blakely because his father told him that’s what he’ll do. There’s no other reason behind it. Now I have the fucker scared. I took his toy, and he knows it won’t be clean and innocent when I’m done with it. No, it’ll be dirty and tarnished. Used every way imaginable.
When she sucks and fucks his cock in a way that makes his head spin, his first thought will be—did Ryat teach her that? I damn sure did, you son of a bitch!
“I received a call,” he answers vaguely.
And I don’t ask any further questions because I know I won’t get any answers.
“So, I’m going to ask you one more time.” He speaks, and I come to a stop and look at him. “How much is she worth to you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BLAKELY
I LIE IN my bed dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of gray boy shorts, watching a Halloween movie and snacking on popcorn while having a glass of wine. Well, technically, I’m drinking it out of the bottle. It just sounded good.
Sarah is at the house of Lords, and I’m home alone because Ryat is out of town for the weekend. It’s only Friday night, and I’m already going crazy bored with nothing to do. I’ve always been a homebody, but it’s lonely without Sarah here with me. We’ve always been homebodies together. And I’ve spent every day with Ryat since the vow ceremony. It’s just weird being here alone. The place seems so quiet.
My cell rings, and I pick it up to see it’s Ryat. “Hello?” I answer before taking a swig from the bottle. I’m not nearly drunk. I still have over half left.
“Hey, little one,” he says in greeting. “What are you doing?”
“Lying in bed.” I’m a real party animal.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. Bored as shit. You won’t let me go out.” I secretly like how controlling and possessive he is. It’s like he’s feeding a craving. But it’s cruel that he tells me this and leaves me here alone. If I have house arrest, I’d much rather it be with him.
He chuckles. “Well, you wouldn’t be bored if I was there.”
My breathing picks up, and I take another drink. “What would you be doing to keep me busy?” I ask.
“Well, for starters, I’d rip that shirt off you along with that underwear. And I’d take that bottle of wine away from you.”
I look up, forgetting he has cameras in this place. I still have no clue where they are in the apartment. But I have a feeling that they’re in more places than just my bedroom. Something about knowing he watches me turns me on. I sink further into the bed, getting comfortable. “And?”
“I’d cuff your hands behind your back and then flip you over, pinning them underneath you.” I groan at the image he gives me. “I’d then drag you across the bed where your head hangs off the side. I would order you to open your mouth so I could fuck it.”
“Ryat,” I moan his name as I lick my lips, imagining him in my mouth. I’ve only given him head that night during the vow ceremony.
“You’d have your legs spread wide open for me while I used a vibrator on your wet cunt. You’d come with my cock down your throat.”
He’s so vulgar with what he wants and how he wants it. I like that about him. I wish I was as open as him. It takes a lot for me to tell him what I want. I think that’s due to so much rejection Matt gave me. He always made me feel dirty. Not just about my fantasies but anytime I showed him any kind of sexual desire. I think that’s why I like the way Ryat takes control without me even having to ask.
Reaching up, I grab my breast over my shirt, knowing my nipples are hard.
“Blake,” he warns. “Do not touch yourself.”
I bang my head on the headboard. “No fair. You’re getting me worked up on purpose. What time Sunday will you be back?” I change the subject.
“Not until Monday night,” he answers.
“What? You said Sunday.” It’s only Friday. He left first thing this morning but never gave me a return time for Sunday. I was hoping for early morning.
“Something came up,” he says vaguely.
That seems to happen a lot in his life. “Well, then I guess I’ll see you Monday.” I try not to sound sad or desperate. I went twenty years without sex. I can last three days.
We say our goodbyes, and I lie down, getting comfortable and turning the movie up.