Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Or is it because of something else?
Like … wanting to look at me?
Shaking it off, I turn around and hop into bed, crawling under the blanket. The warmth and comfort are very welcome compared to the harsh environment we’ve been walking in for so long. But I cannot stop thinking about that beast of a man lying in the living room, waiting for me to come out and try to sneak out … so he can grab me again and pin me down.
And rip down my shirt to fondle my boobs again.
Fuck.
I really have to stop thinking about this.
Suddenly, the sound of water pitter-pattering down catches my attention.
Soren’s under the shower.
And I don’t know why but I’m instantly reminded of that time he walked into the lake butt naked. My eyes slam shut, and I turn around in bed, forcing myself to forget the images that just popped into my head, along with the tiny thumps in my pussy.
Instead, I focus on what I’m going to do when I get back home, where I’m going to start my new business, how many customers I’m going to have, and all the delicious things I’ll cook for them. And with that thought, I fall into a restless, dreamless slumber.
Until I hear a roar in the middle of the night that makes my eyes burst open and my heart pump in my throat.
Soren.
Soren
Minutes ago
I can smell her scent from a mile away. Even as I lie here on the couch, her smell enters my nostrils with a sweetness I can’t stop wanting to lick.
Fuck.
I have to stop this.
Grumbling to myself, I get up from the couch and march into the bathroom, where I turn on the shower. I rip off my clothes and step underneath the cold water, forcing my body to cool down before my dick gets hard again.
I cannot allow myself to go there again.
The pain is just too much to bear.
So I plant my hand against the wall and let the water pour down on my naked body, then wash thoroughly, leaving nothing unscathed. I take ample time on my cock. Even though it’s trapped in metal, I can still reach every part through the bars with a piece of cloth.
When I’m done, I turn off the shower and dry myself before putting my clothes back on. Now that I’ve cooled off, it’s easier to walk past her door without feeling the incredible urge to hunt her down and pounce on her like the animal I am.
But even as I lie back down on the couch again for some much-needed sleep, all I can think of is her and those sultry lips, those beautiful tits, and just how much I want to use them for my pleasure along with every other inch of her body.
I used to dream of ways to torture a soul, about blood and suffering.
Now all I dream about is her.
And no matter how exhausted I get, she’s there to energize me, excite me … make me burn with need.
I want to kiss her, lick her body until she begs for mercy, sink my teeth into her flesh until she screams my name.
And she’s right here in front of me, wearing that same thin shirt and pants that stick to her body, allowing me to swipe my eyes over her naked skin underneath. A deep, rumbling groan emanates from my chest as she sits down on top of me, her fingers sliding down my legs as my pants are pulled down and taken off.
A burning pain shoots down my thighs, straight into my crotch, and I growl out loud, the sound echoing through the cabin. I can’t fucking move from the pain, and it becomes so bad that I roar out loud.
Suddenly, I feel something … or someone … pick at the metal around my waist.
My eyes burst open as I realize the dream in my head was a twisted version of reality.
Because April is right here in front of me, sitting on top of my legs, poking at the metal with an actual fork and knife.
“What the—”
It stings so bad I can’t even form the words.
“Hold still,” she says, toiling away at the metal like she wants nothing more than to take it off.
But as she makes a crack in the lock, I quickly come to my senses and grip her wrist, forcing her to look at me.
“Don’t,” I growl, but the pain is making it impossible for me to move.
“You’re in pain,” she responds, and she jerks free of my grip. “This thing needs to come off.”
She sticks the fork into the lock and messes around with it while another burst of pain shoots up and down my body, and I groan with rage.
With a deadly look, I stare straight into her eyes. “I can’t control myself.”