Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Pet,” he hissed, his balls slapping off my ass. “Spread your whore legs.”
I did.
“Beg for it,” he grunted.
“Please.” My voice was so soft, even though I wanted to scream. “Please, oh God, please.”
It turned into a mantra, please and oh please, and oh God please, over and over again until it was the soundtrack to that moment, forever in my mind.
His hand left my ass and wrapped around my throat. He looked into my eyes as he fucked my needy cunt.
“What are you?” he asked.
“Yours.” It was so simple.
“My what?” His fingers tightened. His cock throbbed.
“Yours!” I cried out, but he wouldn’t let me look away. His eyes. His fucking eyes were on fire.
“My fucking what?” He squeezed again. It hurt. Hurt so bad. So close to passing out. So close to letting go.
“Pet,” I whispered, and he squeezed tighter, and fucked harder, and stared deeper.
One final thrust and he stopped moving. I sobbed and he stayed still, so still it felt like time had frozen, so burning deep I thought he’d broken something else inside me. And then I felt him coming, so slowly, so painfully slowly, and then all at once, his cock spasming inside me. I clenched my pussy and his cum oozed into me and I just stared at him with my eyes wide, and my mouth open. And he held me in place like a fucking toy and waited until his balls were empty.
“Say thank you,” he said, without moving an inch.
“Th-thank you.”
My pussy swelled with him inside me. So tight I was sure he wouldn’t even be able to pull out. But he didn’t even try to.
He held me by the throat and watched my eyes roll back as he took my breath away. And when I was close to passing out, he kissed me.
Sweet.
Gentle.
Firm.
With so much love in that single kiss, I’d never be able to believe him when he told me he didn’t care about me.
I closed my eyes and accepted the darkness.
Ten
King
1 week later
She was settling in well.
And every day made it worse. The feelings I promised myself I wouldn’t have were getting stronger and stronger until it felt like I’d lose my damn mind if I didn’t make her submit fully.
I didn’t push her those first few days. I let her do her own thing, settle into my home at her own pace. I spent most of the time in my office, and was sparse with my questions when I came back home. She seemed timid and brave at the same time, quickly laying claim to my place.
Pet was messy, really fucking messy. She’d leave clothes everywhere, strewn across the floor along with her shoes. I’d had her stuff delivered the day after she moved in, and the amount of shit she owned was fucking appalling. Clothes and shoes and bags and makeup, perfume and teddy bears and notebooks, books upon books upon books. So many fucking books.
She was always reading, always carrying a book around with her. Stuff I didn’t know, stuff I recognized from bestseller charts, classics. She read everything. I’d caught her reading the back of a shampoo bottle once, intently. The girl was born to be a reader. Her books were everywhere. She didn’t dogear or leave coffee rings on them, she just let them litter every-fucking-thing. It was driving me insane.
I’d told her several times she wasn’t supposed to do it. She needed to clean her shit up because it was driving me mental having to walk through the mazes of crap.
She did it half-assedly here and there. I told her that day she needed to sort her stuff out, and she seemed especially petulant about it.
I knew why that was.
I hadn’t fucked her, hadn’t so much as fucking touched her in a whole week.
And she was desperate for it.
I was pretty sure she was asking for it, and when I opened the door to my apartment that night, my suspicions were confirmed by the ridiculous sight that greeted me.
The brat had cleared everything up, but she’d stacked her huge collection of books in piles and had built a fort around the couch with them. A fucking fort.
The little slut was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up, wearing a scrap of fabric she called panties. She had socks on, cute pink ones with white ruffles. Her hair was down and wild and covering her naked tits. And she was wearing her glasses, the ones she usually pretended didn’t exist.
She giggled when I walked in, and my blood boiled.
“Did I not tell you to clean up?” I asked as I set my briefcase and blazer down.
“I did,” she pouted. “I cleaned up really well.”
She pushed her glasses up her nose and put the book she was reading aside, carefully closing it around the bookmark and placing it on one of the stacks. She lay there with her legs splayed and her pussy dripping, pushing aside the fabric of her panties and teasing me. I didn’t know how she did it, but every time I saw her naked, she was smooth as can be. It was driving me fucking insane.