Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“You have a filthy mouth.” I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on my breathing.
“That was me being polite,” he murmurs. “Have you let him touch you here?”
His thumb circles my clit, sending sparks shooting through me. Even as my life hangs in the balance, that possessive edge in his voice twists me up in knots. He acts like he owns me—and there’s something so unhinged about that. But even worse is the way my body responds.
“Would you let him watch as I stretch you open with my cock?” His voice dips, the words settling right between my thighs.
I bite back an answer. If I give him what he wants, that means he’ll win this stupid game. But as he continues to torture me with the slow, rhythmic circles, my resolve wavers. Maybe it’s the torrent of fear and a desperate need for safety, or maybe I’m just broken. Either way, I’m chasing the release even as every muscle in my body burns. The longer he draws it out, the worse it gets.
My arms feel numb from being stretched behind me, and my hips ache from the hard railing beneath them. I’m dizzy, terrified, and conflicted, but more than anything, I’m dying for relief.
“Would you get on your knees for me in front of him?” He punctuates the question with so much delicious pressure, it produces an ungodly sound from my throat. “Would you swallow my cock like a good girl?”
Those feral words send a current of heat straight through my core, and I know he feels the clench between my thighs. He’s taunting me, and he’s enjoying it way too much for my liking. I give him nothing, but he punishes me for it, removing the weight of his fingers and leaving me cold.
A grunt of frustration leaves me. “You’re an asshole.”
“And?” he drawls.
I press my lips together. I shouldn’t say it. I still have some dignity left—
“Answer the question.” He smacks my pussy, and I gasp, the words falling right out of my mouth.
“Yes, okay.” I swallow. “I’d let you do it. Are you happy now?”
A dark sound of approval reverberates through him. “Very.”
The warmth of his voice floods my body with heat, like I did something good. It feels like I’ve earned a reward when he resumes his sweet torture, the smooth leather of his glove circling me exactly where I need him.
Stupidly, I open my eyes again, and the sight of the long drop below sends another shot of terror through me. I’m either going to pass out, or I’m going to come.
As I’m considering it, he lowers me another inch over the ledge, and a scream rips from my lungs.
“Are you scared yet?” he asks.
Tears leak from my eyes as my entire body trembles beneath him.
He lowers me another inch.
“Please!” I cry out.
“Please what?” he hums.
“Please…make me come.”
I can’t believe those are the words that eject from my mouth, but apparently, I’m willing to die for an orgasm.
“Brava, ragazza.” His praise seeps into every inch of my skin, spreading through me like wildfire.
The pressure between my legs increases, and a dizzying rush of chemicals floods my brain. The threat of danger fades into the background as tension climbs, pushing me closer to the breaking point. My skin tingles, my lungs burn, and every muscle in my body aches. I’m strung so tightly, I feel like I’ll snap in half any second.
One last plea spills out on a ragged breath before he relieves me of my agony.
Pleasure explodes low in my belly, radiating outward in violent spasms. It’s followed by a feverish rush and a surge of euphoria so intense, my vision narrows to a pinpoint.
I sway dangerously close to the edge of passing out as he pulls me back from the brink of death. The shift in gravity jars all my senses and tilts the world back into focus. I’m upright, but I’m not standing on my own. He supports my weight as he cuts my bindings, and when my arms swing free, I collapse against him.
Every ounce of strength drains from my body as the adrenaline crash hits me hard and fast. Relief swells inside me, then bursts into body-racking sobs.
He lifts me into his arms and brushes his fingers over my face. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s the come-down, I think. A cathartic release of so many pent-up emotions I forgot I’d even buried inside me.
He wipes away my tears, and it feels intimate and raw. When I try to bury my face against his chest, he tilts my gaze back to his and shakes his head.
“Don’t hide from me.” His voice softens a fraction, lulling me into a sense of safety I know I shouldn’t feel.
I draw in a shaky breath, fighting the sudden wave of exhaustion pulling me down.