Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
After the night I had, I don’t want to have sex, but my conditioned body turns wet looking at him. His body is like a statue chiseled from stone. Every muscle is perfectly cut. His cock grows hard under my stare, making my mouth water. The warm, velvety flesh isn’t the same as a plastic toy. Not at all. If he can’t give me affection, he can give me pain and lust to forget just for a moment how much I hate both of us. I’m already his whore. What’s one time more? Nothing in the scheme of bigger things. I can’t go back to the virgin I was when he found me. I can’t undo the sinful things we’ve done. Does it really matter if I’m knee-deep or sinking?
Maxime climbs back onto the bed. Dragging his palms up my legs, he spreads them and kneels between my thighs. My body jumps to life. My over-stimulated and over-used parts swell and turn slick. I can stop my reaction as little as I can turn off my love. He’s trained me too well. He’s a mastermind. The way he played and caught me in his game is brilliant, really.
Stretching out over me, he brushes my hair over one shoulder and kisses the shell of my ear. “I assume your pussy has had enough.”
I can never have enough of him. It makes me want to break down with sobs. All I can do is close my eyes and bite my lip in futile denial.
“Get up on your knees for me, cherie.” He assists me with a hand around my waist. “Lean down on your forearms. It’ll better support your weight.”
When he’s arranged me the way he wants me, my legs are wide open and my ass in the air. I’m stretched open and on show. A flush of heat spreads over my cheeks as I look back and see where his gaze is trained.
His eyes darken. The frosty gray turns into that molten mercury I’ve come to associate with his lust. Taking his cock in his hand, he grabs the bottle of oil from the nightstand, tips it over his shaft, and stroke a few times to lubricate it. He drags his palm up and down and rolls it over the thick head of his cock. The wet sounds he makes with his hand as he all but masturbates right in front of my eyes turn me on more. I’m still processing this new discovery, storing it away with the rest of my shameful ones when he dribbles the oil in the crease between my globes and uses the slick head of his cock to spread the oil around my dark entrance.
I grip a fistful of sheet in each hand when he leans forward, applying pressure on the tight ring of muscle.
His voice is strained, his accent sounding stronger. “Do you want this, Zoe?”
Zis for this. Rounded like a full-bodied wine. The pronunciation drips sensuality. If I get drunk on it, I won’t hear the lies.
“Use your voice,” he says.
I let go, surrendering my grip to the quicksand of my body’s betrayal. “Yes.”
Easing forward slightly, he teases me. “Why?”
“Because it feels wrong.”
“You’re such a good little bad girl,” he says, leaning over to caress my breasts and play with my nipples while sliding his cock deeper.
It doesn’t hurt like before. I’ve been stretched all night, ready to take him.
“I need to fuck you hard,” he whispers through clenched teeth, “after last night.”
Last night.
Neither of us can get it out of our heads. It’s a tipping point in time. Our dynamic has shifted. He used to hold back with me, never coming inside my body. I was the fool who silently begged him to let go. I asked for it. I wanted his everything. He reciprocated by giving it. Now that he’s marked me, I’m his property, something he can no longer let go. Not after four years. Not ever.
Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I took the noose from his hands and put it around my neck myself. All because he made me love. He made me need more, but he’s empty now. He’s given everything he was capable of giving. There’s no love in his heart, and there will never be. If my heart’s to survive, I’ll have to find my happiness elsewhere. Even if I got in by cheating, I’ll pour my soul into my studies. I’ll give it everything I’ve got, filling the stretching holes in my heart with the passion and purpose Maxime so charitably offered me.
“Fuck, Zoe.” His fingers tighten on my nipple, twisting not to hurt but because lost as we are in the midst of this new phase of our forced relationship, he’s forgetting his own strength. “If you don’t want me to pummel your ass, you have to tell me now. Don’t tease me, little flower.”