Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
The worst thing that could happen was if I released the photos and they were swept away as just another heiress with a sex scandal.
No, I needed something that would make this stand out, something to make sure that everyone was talking about it.
And no matter what Olivia did afterward, it would always be the first thing people thought of when they heard her name.
I needed the Kraken.
“The big rainbow thing next to your arm.”
She looked to her side, and her eyes opened comically wide when she saw the tentacle dildo lying on the table.
It was about thirteen inches long and started fairly small at the tip but tapered into a wide base that I could barely fit both hands around.
She held it with two fingers like it was an offensive object.
I couldn’t blame her. As a man with a large but normal-shaped cock, the tentacle monster dildos were, in fact, offensive. Though now that I saw it in Olivia’s hands, I wondered how it would feel if she had that monstrosity in her cunt while I fucked her ass. As her body adjusted to that thing and my intrusion, I would push her down to take more.
I shook my head to get that image out. There was work to do first. Playtime came later.
She was already so tight I doubted it would fit, even if that was the only thing she had inside her.
I considered for another moment how hot she would look if I turned our photoshoot into something even more scandalous. Perhaps a homemade amateur porn film was in order. I bet I could make her wet enough that she could take maybe the first half of it.
Something else to consider later.
If I were lucky, her ass would be as tight, if not tighter, than her untried pussy.
She didn’t need that toy. No, tentacle dildos were for women who needed more, needed something kinky to get off. All Olivia would need was my cock, and maybe my mouth or my fingers. If I was going to make a home movie of her getting off, it was going to be on me, not some abstract hentai sex toy.
At least … not yet.
“Lick it,” I ordered.
Her eyes went wide as she stared at me in shock.
“It has a suction cup on the bottom. I want you to stick it on the table and then lick it.” Just seeing her eyes wide like that while she held it was giving me some excellent shots.
“I’m not going to let you take pictures of this thing inside me,” she said with her hand on the choker I had given her like she was clutching her pearls in fear.
“You will do as you are told. Or I have some very pretty pictures of you naked in my bed with my come dripping out of ...” I let the lie trail off.
She got the point. She didn’t need to know the pictures of her in my bed were mostly tame. The ones I had sent her brother were practically PG … well, almost.
“Fine,” she huffed.
She didn’t need to know what pictures I was keeping for myself, what was already sent to her family, and what I was putting aside for Page Six. Besides that, one photo would have been enough to destroy her, and she knew it.
The damage was already done.
She grabbed the tentacle with both hands and stuck it on the table while sending me a burning glare, then closed her eyes and slowly leaned forward to run the tip of her tongue from the base to the tip.
Fuck.
I adjusted my hardening cock.
Seeing her sweet, innocent face as she opened her still kiss-swollen lips to let her pink tongue slip out and lick that obscene sex toy almost had me tossing the camera aside, grabbing her, and fucking her raw.
I cleared my throat. “Again.”
She did it again, but when she was halfway up, I called her name.
Her big, beautiful eyes glanced up.
I got the perfect picture of her angelic eyes looking up at me while she licked the toy. It seemed intentional, like she was making eye contact with the camera, wanting the lens to capture her dirty little act.
As if she is looking at me.
Wanting to please me as she submits to my commands.
My cock twitched.
“Good girl,” I praised, and she sat back, her lips pursed.
She knew exactly what I had done.
I stepped away from the camera and went to the sideboard, where I had a fresh bottle of champagne chilling. I poured her a glass and handed it to her.
“Here, take the edge off. This is going to happen, so you might as well enjoy it. Or at least loosen up a bit.”
“I hate you,” she gritted out.
I shrugged. “Then hate me.”
I turned my back on her, ostensibly to fix my camera. A dull ache pressed on my chest as if someone was twisting their fist into it, leaving a bruise as the tightness in my shoulders increased. Apparently, I did care. I clenched my jaw. Well, no reason for her to know that.