Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I don’t explain any of that. It would be far more humiliating to explain all those feelings than to be spanked and sent back to bed.
Orgasm aside, the punishment wasn’t really that bad. I felt his displeasure, but I also felt his guidance. It was not anger that made him smack me. It was how insistent he is that I obey him. The old, normal part of me bristles against that. I am an independent woman. I’ve been looking after myself since I was basically a child. He might think I am some stray that wandered into his office and was transformed by his cock, but there is strength inside me that only a few people have ever seen.
“Close your eyes,” he says, standing over me, tall, commanding. “Go to sleep.”
I close my eyes.
I do as I am told.
CHAPTER 5
Kira
I wake up in the middle of the night with a shout. I am covered in sweat, shaking from adrenaline, and something is holding me tight. I thrash against whatever has me, letting out little shouts of fear. I’m captive.
I thrash for freedom, trying to escape the bonds that keep me pinned in place, but they only seem to get tighter.
They’re keeping me in place. They’re drawing me down. They’re…
“Shhh, Kira. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here…”
My eyes open in the dark. I didn’t realize that they were closed. I see the face of a familiar man in front of me, but it is not until I smell him that I realize who he is. I draw in a deep breath and bring his smell in with it.
It’s my mate. It’s Cain.
“It’s okay, shhh,” he tries to comfort me.
“I’m okay,” I say, verbally agreeing but physically pushing away. I feel like I might be sick. I hate this. I should have anticipated it, but I hate it.
He lets me go, thank God. Being held close when I’m freaking out does not help, especially when I’m only half awake to begin with.
“You are,” he says. “You’re okay.”
He switches the bedside light on, which makes things instantly better. I see his handsome, strong face, his broad shoulders, his muscular torso, his… complete lack of underwear. He must have come to bed with me after I fell asleep. I am now thoroughly distracted, the nebulous terror of the dream dissipating in his presence.
“Have you had bad dreams like that before?” He reaches out and gently brushes a few strands of wild hair out of my face.
“All the time,” I laugh. I want to play this off like it is nothing, because it is nothing. Nightmares happen to everyone sometimes. They happen for me a little more often, but I’m used to it. “I don’t remember the last time I slept all the way through the night.”
He is looking at me with concern.
“Don’t worry,” I try to reassure him. “It’s okay.”
“It is not okay,” he says. “You should sleep well with me. You are my mate. You should feel safer with me than that.”
“It’s not about you.”
I don’t mean to say that snappishly, but it is late, and I guess I’m still riding the adrenaline surge that comes with waking up that way.
He gives me a harder look, and I know he is probably going to do something about me speaking to him that way. But the expression on his face softens.
“I’m going to get you some warm milk,” he says.
“That sounds incredibly gross.”
He pauses. “You’re right,” he says. “It does. What would you like?”
“A hug?” I say the words in a small voice mostly because after pulling away and being so snappy, I feel quite shy about asking for his physical affection. It’s one thing to be ravaged and railed by my boss. It’s something else to want him to snuggle me after a bad dream.
“Of course,” he says, wrapping me up in his arms immediately. “I will always hold you when you want me to or need me to.”
He pulls me down to the bed and pulls the covers up over the pair of us. He leaves the light on, which I appreciate. I snuggle into him, burying my face in his neck and breathing his scent in.
Cain strokes my hair, his big hand running down over my scalp and my back. He rubs me in slow circles, settling my nervous system much faster than I would be able to on my own.
Next thing I know, it is morning. Beautiful golden light is flowing through the blinds, casting perfectly parallel lines of cozy glow. I am alone in bed.
“Pancakes,” Cain says, entering the room with a tray replete with coffee, pancakes, orange juice, croissants, and Danishes. He’s still not wearing any pants. He’s perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say as I sit up in bed. He settles the legs of the tray over my thighs, boxing me in with a range of deliciousness. “You’re being so nice to me.”