Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
She wants the fantasy. And shit, if I’m not ready to give in to her every fucking whim.
The coat room is small and dimly lit, lined with a few forgotten jackets and the faint scent of cedar and perfume.
"You sure about this?" I ask, even as every instinct I have screams at me to take what she's offering.
"I've been sure about nothing my entire life," she says, and there's something raw in her voice that makes my chest tight. "Everything's been decided for me since as far back as I remember. What classes to take, what colleges to apply to, what career path would 'optimize my intellectual potential.' But this... this is mine."
The confession hits me harder than it should. She isn’t just an intriguing, beautiful young woman that looks out of her depth at her friend’s wedding anymore. She’s changed before my eyes as I understand a little more about who she is, who she was, who she wants to be. I get a full image of a girl who’s been pushed through life at warp speed, always two steps ahead of where she should be, never getting to just be young and reckless and stupid.
"Alright then." I take her bag, dropping it to the floor, then back her against the wall, caging her in with my arms as my dick strains down the leg of my pants. "Lesson one: when a man wants you, really wants you, he takes his time."
I start with her temple, pressing soft kisses along her hairline while she starts to shake. I work my way down to her ear, letting my breath ghost over sensitive skin until she's gripping my shirt.
"Lesson two," I murmur against her throat, "he pays attention. To everything. The parts of you you let the world see and the parts you hide."
I find the spot where her pulse hammers in her neck beneath her earlobe, and suck, drawing her flesh between my teeth. The soft moan she makes goes straight to my balls, as I force slowness into each move. Each breath. She deserves to be savored, not devoured.
At least this time.
"And lesson three?" Her question is sincere even if her voice shakes.
"Lesson three is that he makes sure you're ready for him." I lift my head to look at her, taking in the flush on her cheeks, the way she rubs her lips together. "You're going to ask me nicely, Marley."
Her name has been easy enough to overhear during the reception chatter. But hearing it fall from my lips makes her eyes go wide.
"You know my name."
"I pay attention. I know you're nineteen years old, finishing your Master's degree, and reckless enough to follow strangers into dark rooms." My voice goes hard thinking about all the details on her booking ticket. "What you did tonight was dangerous, little girl. What if I wasn't who you thought I was? What if I was the kind of man to take what he wants without asking?"
Her chin lifts, a spark of defiance in those brown eyes. "What if that’s exactly what I want?"
The breathy response catches me off guard, and sends blood rushing south. She must feel the way my cock responds, pressing her hip like a dog on a scent.
"Naughty girl," I say, my thumb tracing her lower lip. "I like that. But you’re mine now, and I don't share. You won't be kissing anyone else, following anyone else into coat rooms, or putting yourself at risk like that again. Understood? No other man will treat you the way I’ll treat you. The way you deserve."
"How do I deserve to be treated?" The question is barely a whisper.
"Like you're precious. Beautiful. Perfect. Protected. And like you're mine." I lean down until our lips are almost touching. “You’re a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?”
She whimpers, a tremor shaking her from head to toe. As I pull back to stare into her face, I find her pupils dilated, her lips parted just a little.
I take her mouth like I fucking own it. There’s a blip of tension when I touch her. A second where her body stiffens, breathing stops.
“Baby.” I hiss between her lips. “I’ll give you only what you need.”
“I—I’m not good at being touched. Earlier, the champagne helped but it’s hard for me. I don’t even let my parents hug me.” She stops as I withdraw far enough to take in every word with my ears and my eyes. “Not that they ever tried now that I think about it…”
There’s the slightest quiver in her chin as I pinch it, pressing my lips to the top of her head, letting her body soften as I stand steady, not pushing, not retreating, just being there against her.
“You thinking you like this kind of touch now?” I run my fingers through her hair, plucking out the pins that are holding what’s left in the contrived updo then untangle it with my fingers keeping my eyes on her face.