Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Don’t get lost in lust, I warn myself. It’s a delicate line. I use sex to stay in my body, but I can just as easily lose myself there, as well. And I didn’t expect my hitman to be quite so… appealing. I’m losing the sliver of leverage I imagined I had.
My eyelids flutter. If I were wearing panties, I would’ve soaked them. As it is, I’m bare under my yoga pants so there’s probably a wet spot.
Tacone tosses me easily over his shoulder and carries me the few steps it takes to get to my bed, where he throws me down and fastens another zip tie around my ankles. When I roll to my side, he slaps my ass.
“What’s the fantasy, little thief?”
I wriggle my ass around on the bed. “Some more of that,” I purr. It’s meant to goad him.
Not because I’m dripping for this. Not because I’m fuck-nut crazy.
Not because the worse things get for me, the more I look to pain and sex as a frame I can deal with.
Shockingly, my hitman takes the bait. He holds my hips still with one hand and claps the other one down on my ass a couple times. Hard. He’s not screwing around. “That right?”
I roll to my belly, reaching my bound wrists above my head to get there. Twerk my ass for more.
Major qualms peak, though, when he unbuckles his belt and pulls it from the loops.
This guy is for real. This isn’t one of the doms I’ve scened with to get my fix. He came here to hurt me—probably kill me. So I should be terrified. And I am. But... it also makes this one hundred times hotter than some consensual, pre-negotiated scene. Because the danger is real. The risk is considerably higher.
A therapist could have a field day with this.
He winds the buckle end of the belt around his hand in a quick, efficient manner. And then it’s on. The first strike lands right across the middle of my ass. Pain lights up my pleasure centers.
Yes!
I lift my butt for more. He leathers the hell out of my ass, striking the lower half of my buttocks over and over again until I’m breathless and hot and heady with endorphin release.
“Like that?” he says after more than two dozen stripes.
I roll onto my back and bring my hands between my legs again.
“Did I say you could fucking touch yourself?” He grabs my bound wrists and pries them away.
Holy shit. Either this guy is just a total natural at playing dominant asshole or he’s part of the kink scene, same as me.
“Please,” I whimper, because why not try? One more orgasm is my dying request.
The kink gods smile on me, because he holds my wrists prisoner with one hand and brings the thumb of his other hand to my clit and rubs, firm and quick.
Surprise flares in his eyes when he discovers my piercing but he quickly learns to work it like a pro.
My eyes roll back in my head. I gasp and hold my breath. I go off almost immediately, bending and straightening my bound legs like a frog, my internal muscles squeezing and clenching around nothing.
Tacone mutters something in Italian—it sounds like a curse, and then he unzips his slacks and pulls out his cock. I experience a moment of cold fear at being raped before the crazy takes back over, and I own the scene again.
When he fists his erection and strokes from base to tip, I scooch around on the bed to bring my face toward his crotch. He stops me before my mouth reaches his cock, catching the bun on the top of my head and pulling my hair taut. “Not sure I trust you to put your mouth on my cock, doll,” he tells me.
I open my lips, offering a clear invitation.
He shakes his head but brings his cock to my mouth. “I feel even one tooth and this will be the last fucking cock you ever see. Capiche?”
Crazy Caitlin jots a tally mark in my column. There’s always power in giving head, even bound and at his mercy.
“Yes, sir,” I say automatically, BDSM protocol drilled into me.
Still gripping my hair, he plunges his cock into my mouth and down my throat. “Yes, Mr. Tacone,” he corrects.
“Yes, Mr. Tacone,” I agree when he pulls my mouth back off his cock.
He shoves back in. “Make it good, little hacker. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars good.”
A spike of fear shoots through me at the reminder of how much I stole from them, but crazy Caitlin steps forward again. Might as well enjoy the last cock I’m going to see. It’s no hardship, either, because my body’s still glorying in the rush of endorphins. My ass still smarts and throbs from a delicious whipping and I just orgasmed hard.