Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
I considered tugging her panties back up until they were pulled tight across her pussy—my cum and hers soaking into them. But instead, I skimmed them off her legs and tossed them aside instead. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she moaned softly and smiled in her sleep, sighing contentedly.
Fuck, I was in deep. Maybe I was a psychopath. Or maybe it’s just what she did to me. I leaned down and kissed her again before I stood and turned for the door.
She’d sleep. She’d rest. And in the morning, she’d know how mine she was.
6
Nina
My head ached when I first woke up, and the first thing I thought of was all of those sugary shots Carrie had fed me. But slowly, that part fell away from me, and suddenly, it was the rest of the night that came rushing back over me like a heat wave.
The way he’d touched me. The way it’d felt so wrong and so fucking right. The way he’d held me down, yanked my skirt up, and spanked me until my blood ran hot and my panties were soaked. I could remember the way his hard, muscled body felt pressed to mine, and when I thought of the huge, thick pulsing bulge I’d felt in his jeans against my tummy as he spanked me, my face flushed crimson.
…I’d never felt that before, and it’d felt so illicit and so deliciously sinful to think of how hard he’d gotten putting his hands on me.
I started to turn, when I remembered the handcuffs. I scowled, and for a second, the anger came rushing back. But then, I remembered my alcohol-fueled outbursts from the night before. I remembered trying to hit him over the head, or trying to run, twice, even though he’d told me a dozen times that he wasn’t going to hurt me—that I was there for my own protection. That there were horrible men out there who really did want to hurt me, or worse.
And when I thought of it like that, and the way I was such a bitch to him, I could almost understand that he’d just locked me up and called it a night.
I shifted again, and this time, I realized that I was naked.
Well, almost. My flimsy tank top was tangled and pulled up high under my breasts, and my skirt was bunched around my waist. The thing was though, I wasn’t wearing panties—a fact I was very aware of as I shifted my legs again. I glanced around and spotted them lying on the floor, and instantly, the memory of his hands spanking my ass came rushing back, and I blushed furiously.
I’d gotten so wet when he did that, and the thought made me bite my lip as the heat teased through me. God, what was wrong with me? A big rough stranger spanked me, and I’d gotten turned on?
It was wrong, but oh my God was it hot.
I shifted again, and this time when I rubbed my thighs together, I could feel something sticky and wet there between my legs. I blushed, though I was alone, remembering the absolutely filthy, wicked dreams I’d had about him the night before. Images returned of him pinning me to the bed, yanking my ass up in the air and just taking me—hard, fast, deep, making me scream in pleasure as he claimed my cherry.
The door to the room started to open with a creek, and I gasped, yanking my head around to look. Cormac stepped in, and instantly, I shivered as the dark, smoky eyes from my dirty dreams were suddenly right in front of me for real, looking down on me half naked and handcuffed to the bed. I shifted, trying to shake my hips in order to get my damn skirt to fall back down my legs. But all it did was stick right where it was, pulled halfway over my bare ass.
“You’re awake.”
I pursed my lips, blushing red. “Uncuff me.”
Cormac sighed heavily, raking his fingers across the stubble on his chiseled jaw.
I swallowed, blushing as I kept myself turned awkwardly to look at him.
“Uncuff me please?”
“Please…” He trailed off, looking at me with this mix of expectation and raw power, and I felt the heat from before melt through me. I knew what he wanted me to say, and I knew I’d said it last night. But now, in the light of morning, and without the alcohol and the adrenaline rushing through me, it just felt…
I don’t know. It felt even dirtier maybe. Or maybe it was just that I didn’t have the courage to say it again.
“Do I have to?” I said quietly, hoping the pitiful look I flashed him would soften his resolve.
No such luck.
“Only if you want to get out of that bed today,” he said, the hint of a smile curling the corners of his gorgeous mouth.