Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 55445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
When his fingers slide out of my mouth, I try to breathe. I want to ask him again, but something in his face makes me wait.
"Now, look me in the eyes and come for me," he finally says and his eyes capture mine.
I get shivers all over my entire body, watching his eyes as the waves finally roll over me and I give into everything my body aches for. I'm screaming, moaning, writhing in my bondage, but I never look away from him as I fall completely apart in the most shattering consummation of sensations that I have ever experienced. I'm never going to be able to go back from this, something in my mind whispers. I look into his dark eyes and the gushing arousal dripping down my thighs is sexy as hell to me. This beautiful man played my body like an instrument and I was full of some dark magic rushing through my veins. "Thank you, Sir," I say when I'm trembling in the aftershocks of my orgasms.
He reaches down behind my back and undoes the restraints, rubbing my wrists and ankles where I have little lines from being bound. "You did very well, Sarah." His praise in this moment, after everything, is somehow just as good as an orgasm. And that orgasm was so incredible. He makes me feel in ways that I don't know how they are possible; he's certainly a sorcerer, the way he conjures demonic depths of pleasure that contort not just my face, but my soul. Damien, and Sir, have twisted me up in a way I don't understand, but I'm not sure that I want or need to understand. He's too complex for me to fully grasp. Particularly when I don't understand his intentions, or the full extent of his desires. I'm exhausted and exhilarated.
The only way I parse my understanding, how I translate and explain my own feelings for Damien are to see him as the two men he is; Damien is both Damien and Sir. I think he is just as lost as I am. When I feel the need color the air, I feel the heat strong as any summer’s humidity and know I’m right.
If I'm two people when I am with Damien, then so is he. Somehow, while it should horrify me or just leave me numb, this idea makes me sad.
10
Damien
I feel like some kind of bitch. I have a hot, virginal girl that’s living in my house. She belongs to me. I own her. I want to fuck her.
And here I am, locked in my study, trying not to think about what her pussy tastes like. About how much my cock fucking hurts from not finding out how that warm wet hole would feel if it squeezed my cock.
For a moment I’m a goddamn teenage boy trapped in the study of a man, my cock in my hand while I furiously jerk it. I’m dishonoring my wingback chair to be jerking off in here while a hot, eager, willing, sexy girl awaits me.
Fuck, I know that I shouldn’t fuck her because of the situation with her father. I know that I should probably sell her on the Virgin Market. I know that she can probably do very goddamn well for me and help recover quite a bit of what was lost to me…
But those are all the logical, coherent thoughts I should be having. I’m not fucking logical right now. I’m a goddamn caveman fisting my cock and leaning back against the leather of that once dignified wingback chair telling myself that I should cum on her if not in her. The past few times I have touched her were goddamn electric with the frenetic lust between us. Our chemistry is off any fucking charts. How Sarah can stay so strong, after everything she’s been through and is going through, and those dark desires within her keep blossoming…fuck if I know. I’m a fucking bastard and Sarah so clearly wants to fuck me. She’s afraid of me.
But that doesn’t keep her from being the girl who got so fucking soaking wet from sitting on my lap that she got my suit trousers wet. God, I have to fist my cock at that. It's painful to think about not just what touching her felt like, or what stopping touching her before I went too far felt like. It's so damn painful thinking about all those times like now where I’m dying to touch her and the energy of all that lust has nowhere to go.
Sarah could be masturbating right now. The idea of her fingers in her wet little pussy makes me jam my cock back into my pants. I'm not jerking off. I can’t fucking stand the idea of doing anything but marching to her goddamn room and slamming my cock into her until she screams.