Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Tears prickled my eyes. Jesus, what was wrong with me? I’d never cried over needing to come before.
He used the pants he’d tied around my wrist to yank me to my feet. Then he cradled me against him as he jerked me off. It felt like heaven, his big warm body surrounding me and the grip of his callused hand on my cock. In seconds, I was crying out as I came. He kept pumping me until I squirmed, so sensitive it hurt like hell.
“You really did need that, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Papa Bear.”
He growled and pushed me forward so I fell against the bed, unable to catch myself with my hands still tied.
When he stepped away, I was terrified he intended to leave me there, ass out, hands restrained. Would he use me again later? Did I want him to? Fuck yes I did. I really was messed up.
He returned a moment later carrying a knife.
Oh God. I was about to die. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll tell you who I am. I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t—”
“Stay still.”
“No!” I scooted away from him, trying to get to my feet, but he grabbed my arm and held on. “I’m trying to free your damn hands, but if you keep moving, I might just cut one off by mistake.”
“Fuck. You’re… Seriously?”
“Be still.”
I froze. My heart was pounding harder than it had when he’d been fucking me like a jackhammer.
I pressed my lips together to keep from begging him anymore. If he was serious, then I didn’t want to move, not even to breathe. One slip with a knife like that and I really could lose a hand or at least sever an artery, and if he wasn’t telling the truth, I might as well surrender. He was going to catch me and kill me if he wanted to because I was too dumb to do what was expected of me.
I felt a tug on the fabric, and my hands sprang apart.
Breath whooshed out of me, and I lay there, still not moving. Papa Bear hadn’t put his giant knife down, and I didn’t want to do anything to encourage him to use it on me in a less pleasant way.
When I heard the knife clink against a table, I dared to look at him. He was fastening his pants, which was a shame. I could have stared at his dick all day as long as he didn’t actually chop off any of my limbs.
“I didn’t kill you, so now it’s time to tell me who you actually are.”
“Um… That was… If you weren’t going to…”
He reached for the knife again, but he shivered and set it back down as soon as he touched it.
What was that about? This guy might be as fucked up as I was.
5
BLADE
I hadn’t touched that knife since I’d packed it the day I left the desert, and even then, I’d felt so sick and shaken I couldn’t get it out of my hands fast enough. But I hadn’t even hesitated when I’d used it to cut this hot guy free. I needed something that would slice through the fabric in one stroke, so I’d picked the tool that worked best. How the hell had this little shit gotten me to that point when my friends couldn’t?
I wasn’t going to touch the knife again, though, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to hurt him with it. I’d hurt him enough already, even if he had asked for it, begged for it, well before I’d ordered him to.
“I’m waiting for an answer.”
He shook his head. “The bargain was that I’d give you an enjoyable night and you’d let me go without knowing who I am.”
I remembered him saying he wanted to strike a bargain, but… “I never agreed to that.”
“It was implied.”
This guy really had way too much nerve. “The hell it was, and you just said that if I didn’t kill you, you’d tell me who you were.”
“But you weren’t ever planning to kill me.”
“Then I deserve to know your name for my generosity.”
“It’s Carlo.” He gasped like he hadn’t meant to say it.
Why was that name familiar? Oh fuck. I hit the light switch by the door. The guy was clearly Italian. Was he the guy who was supposed to be coming to the ranch as a fucking client? What the hell was he doing sneaking around in the woods, and what was that bullshit about being held prisoner?
I grabbed my phone and called Grant. He answered almost immediately. “Are you in trouble?”
Was I? Not like he meant. “No.”
“Then I’ll call you later. The asshole who was supposed to be delivered this evening got away from his guards. We’re still looking for him because the incompetent shits are obviously not going to find him.”