Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
He didn’t allow me much of a reprieve. His hands closed around my waist, pulling my body back against his so I could feel his hard length pressing into my ass. I tried and failed to swallow a whimper as some of my fear resurfaced, despite my best efforts to remain lost in lingering pleasure.
“You’re still afraid of my cock,” he surmised, but he didn’t move away at the sound of my distress. “But you’re not afraid when I touch you anymore, are you?”
To prove his point, he pumped soap into his hand from a dispenser on the wall before returning his touch to my breasts. He massaged them gently, and I moaned as his slick palms grazed my nipples. They were still tender from the arousal cream, and he made sure to tease the tight buds as he washed away the substance that lingered on my skin. My flesh tingled, but not as intensely as it had when he’d first applied the cream.
One hand skimmed down my belly to carefully wash my sex, his other remaining at my breasts to play with my nipples. I shuddered and leaned back against him for support as pleasure flooded my body again, the tension at my core building.
“You are a greedy girl,” he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “I knew you’d be like this. But you don’t deserve a reward. Not yet.”
A humiliating whine slipped through my lips when he stopped touching me intimately. He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. My eyes darted around the bathroom, avoiding looking at his imposing body.
He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to his. I made the mistake of glancing up, and I found myself trapped in his steady black stare.
“You don’t like looking at me,” he said, an acknowledgement of fact. “My scars frighten you.”
“It’s not that,” I admitted, the words tumbling out of me in my nervousness. “I mean, you’re scary. But your scars aren’t why you scare me. Well, kind of, because they mean you’re violent. But this is just a tic I have. I don’t really like looking at anyone. I have to for work, sometimes. It takes effort. It makes me uncomfortable. I mean…” I finally managed to end my rambling confession. Why was I telling him all this?
Because I babbled when I was nervous, that’s why. Especially around alpha males, and especially when they turned their full, potent attention on me to impose their will. I did it with Jason, and I definitely did it with Dex. I could barely look at my best friend under normal circumstances, even when I didn’t have a reason to be intimidated. I was always nervous around him, in that butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of way.
Not the way Andrés made me nervous. Nervous wasn’t an intense enough word to express the enormity of what he made me feel. It was why I couldn’t look away once he captured me in his dark gaze. I never maintained eye contact with anyone like I did with him. He didn’t give me a choice in the matter.
He considered me for a long, tense moment, his jaw tight. “Would it make you more comfortable if I told you I didn’t get these scars in a fight?”
I blinked at him. “What?” That didn’t make any sense. “Then how—?”
“That’s enough questions,” he cut me off. “I am a violent man, but I won’t harm you. I’ll never let anyone harm you. You’re mine, which means you’ll be protected. It also means you’ll accept my touch and my cock. Look at me.” When he said it this time, I knew he wasn’t ordering me to look him in the eye. “All of me,” he prompted when I hesitated. “Now, cosita.” The last was dark with warning, and my eyes flicked down his body before I could contemplate further defiance.
Once my gaze landed on his cock, I couldn’t look away. I might not have been with a man in real life, but I watched porn. And, despite his scarred body, Andrés could have starred in some of the most depraved videos I’d seen. He was huge, long and thick. His cockhead was purple with arousal, and a feminine part of me marveled that this reaction was for me.
“Touch me,” he bit out, his control slipping. I gasped when his cock bobbed, straining toward me.
I reached out and tentatively brushed my fingertips along his shaft. His skin was soft and smooth, but he was hard beneath my touch. He hissed in a sharp breath, and I felt him pulse under my fingers. I stared in fascination. I was doing this to him, affecting him the way he’d affected me. A strange sense of heady power teased at the corners of my mind, and I struggled to resist the perverted satisfaction. I shouldn’t enjoy my captor’s lustful reaction to me.