Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
And then I’m there.
I try to pull my hands away, but when I do, my finger flicks my clit. That’s enough to send me careening over the edge.
“Oh God.”
My body tightens, flexing as my pussy pulses. I whimper as the waves of pleasure crash over me. The intensity is almost sharp as I ride out the last bit of the climax before sagging against the chair.
I open my eyes, only for them to be caught by Gannon’s.
“What’s done is done,” Gannon says, his voice eerily calm. “Now you’ll get to meet the consequences of your choices.”
He lifts a hand and motions for me to go to him.
My heart pounding, I pry myself off the chair. My legs wobble as I make my way across the floor. He holds out a hand as I approach him, so I place my palm in his.
He leans forward, holding my pointer and middle finger in his grasp, and brings them to his lips.
“No, you are not,” I whisper, my jaw dropping.
He pulls them both into his mouth, holding my gaze as he sucks the cum off my fingers. His tongue slips between them, his eyes twinkling dangerously before he pulls them slowly from between his lips. Then he lets them go.
Oof.
“Get with Kylie and schedule a call,” he says, pushing his chair back. “Tell her to coordinate it with Renn.”
He gets to his feet, and his hands immediately go to his belt.
The look in his eye is dark and wicked—and so fucking sexy. I pant, waiting for his next move. And mine.
The belt zips from his waist, and he coils it in his hand before dropping it on his desk. He makes quick work of his tie. The buttons on his shirt are no challenge for him either.
I step back, putting distance between us, as his shirt slips over his shoulders.
Holy fucking shit.
My thighs grow heavy once again as I take in his bare chest. The ridges of his abdomen. The thick muscles across his shoulders. God himself must have chiseled Gannon’s obliques because they are absolute perfection.
“Talk soon,” he says, then pushes the button again—this time with a finality that makes my heart jump.
He pulls both buds out of his ears and tosses them onto his desk. The sound echoes through the silence.
The temperature in the room increases, and just like that, the power changes hands. I might have gotten away with calling the shots for a little while, but that’s over. The man standing in front of me is about to eat me alive.
“How’d that go?” I ask, not sure how to break the ice. “It sounded rough.”
He grins. “Not as rough as it’s going to go for you after that stunt you just pulled.”
I take a step back as a rush of desire pools in my core again. “Is that so?”
He rounds the corner of his desk.
I take another, bigger step back.
“You better run,” he says, lunging forward.
I yelp, surprised by his sudden playfulness, and make a dash for the door. I cover my chest with one arm as I dash toward the front door, squealing as I go. His footfalls are just behind mine, but I’m too afraid to turn around to look.
As soon as I step into the foyer, an arm wraps around my middle and hauls me backward. My back slams against Gannon’s chest, and I giggle as he wraps his other arm around me, too.
I sink against him moments before he lifts me into the air and tosses me easily over his shoulder.
“Gannon!” I yell, laughing. “What are you doing?”
His hand cracks down on my ass hard. The contact spreads through me like wildfire, and my moan is instant and loud.
“You had your fun,” he says, carrying me through the house. “Now it’s my turn.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carys
Gannon takes a set of stairs with ease, with one arm cinched over the backs of my legs to hold me in place. His other hand massages the apple of my cheek where he cracked me moments ago. The feeling of his fingertips against my skin frazzles my brain.
“Did you have fun downstairs?” he asks as we breach the landing. His tone is too calm, too controlled. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Yeah. It was fun—ah!”
His palm smacks the same spot as before.
I shouldn’t like this. My pussy shouldn’t get wetter every time his palm strikes my ass … but it does. The last time a man tried to spank me, I punched him in the dick and never spoke to him again. But Gannon has done it twice now and I don’t just like it—I love it. Instead of making me feel helpless, I feel powerful. Safe, even. Desired.
He kicks a door, and it swings open. A blast of cool air caresses my naked body, welcoming me inside. Before I can get acclimated to our new surroundings, Gannon throws me onto the center of a giant bed.