Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I’m not sure if I’m angry about that or turned on, and I hate conflicting emotions, so I don’t react.
My apathy only prompts her to keep going. “Well, I can’t read your mind, Brose, but if it’s a show you want, I can deliver.” And then she flicks a finger back and forth across her little pink nub.
Olive is an eager girl when it comes to sex. She’s not hard to please. She touches herself often, always finding pleasure in it, so she’s getting a lot of pleasure out of this moment. Her eyes droop low, but don’t entirely close. Her mouth goes slack, affording me a little peek at her tongue, and her back arches just the tiniest of degrees.
It’s not an act. It’s real and even if I was trying my best to remain indifferent, I would have a hard time not responding. But in this case, after days of sleeping and working beside her with no sexual contact at all, that best try wouldn’t even come close to enough fortitude to withstand her teasing.
My dick grows inside my pants and her eyes are there to see it. Her tongue flicks out, swiping over her top lip, inviting me to picture her mouth sliding around my hard tip.
“If you want it,” she says, her voice low and seductive, “come get it.”
My smile is sideways. “That’s not how this works.”
“Today, Brose? Today it is. Because you have rules that I don’t know about. And you put me in situations where I break these rules, and then you punish me for it. And I get it. I’m a little slut. I like it. A lot.” She withdraws her fingers from between her legs, then closes her knees and stands up, straightening her dress. “But if you think I’m weak and have no self-control at all, you’ve misjudged me.”
I scoff.
Which makes her squint again. “Try me, Brose. Try me.” Then she turns towards the door, like she’s gonna walk out.
Immediately, I’m up from the chair and crossing the room. I grab her by the arm, spin her around, and push her against that door with a hard thump.
Her mouth is open when she looks up at me, shocked.
But it’s a split second of shock, and nothing more. Because when my hand slides over to her breast and gives it a squeeze, she smiles. “Take it then. Because if you can have rules, Brose, then so can I. And from now on, if you agree to something and then try and punish me afterward, I will punish you back.”
My hand slowly slides up to her throat and my fingertips splay open around it.
She holds her breath, hoping.
I’ve never seen a woman so turned on by choking. Ever. Olive Creed likes to be choked so much. Sometimes she tempts me into doing it.
The problem is, I like to be the choker, and it has happened on occasion that I have failed to… restrain myself.
I’ve choked her into unconsciousness three times now, and each time I did it, she came. Of course, while it’s risky, it’s not actually that dangerous. As long as I remove my hand the minute she goes limp, she comes back.
It’s just… I’m afraid that… one day… I won’t remove my hand at all.
“Do it,” she dares. “Do it, Brose.”
But I’m not going to do it, so I do not squeeze her throat. I just leave my hand there. It’s the equivalent of her grabbing my dick, but not following through with a hand job. “You wanna know what rule you broke, Olive? That made me hate you?”
Her eyes squint down when I use that word ‘hate.’ I don’t hate her. I will never hate her. It’s just a trigger word and it does the job. “You hate me?” she says.
“Do you wanna know? Or not?”
“Tell me.”
“You wanted him more than you wanted me.”
“That’s not true. I belong to you, Brose. That guy is nobody.”
“Make me believe it. Make me believe it, Olive, and I’ll—” I press my hand against her throat. She sucks in a breath. “I’ll give you a little bit of this.” I press just a tiny bit harder and her eyes close.
But at the same time, her mouth opens and those words I love to hear come spilling past her lips. “You think for me, I act for you.”
“Say it again.”
“You think for me, I act for you.”
“Again.”
“You think for me, I act for you.”
This time, when she says the words, I push on her shoulders and she slowly drops to her knees. As she lowers, her head lifts up and her eyes are locked with mine. She doesn’t react as I undo the buckle on my belt and pop the button on my jeans. She doesn’t move when I slide the zipper down and pull out my long, hard cock. And she doesn’t resist when I wrap my hand round my shaft and push the tip past her lips. She opens wide for me, gagging a little, but trying her hardest, and I make my way inside her.