Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“Grant,” I wail. “Please don’t stop. Please.”
He presses a button on the device and it starts to pulse. Oh God. Oh my God. It’s the most incredible torture. Awful and amazing at the same time. “Your first orgasm was supposed to seep out all over my cock, Sienna. But you have a horny pussy that needs attention now, don’t you?” He introduces the back curve of the vibrator to my entrance, tucking it just inside and grinding on the sensitive ring of skin, making my back arch on another scream. “Who does it need, princess?”
“You.” My body twists and writhes on the couch. “It needs you, Daddy.”
My eyes fly open on a shocked gasp and lock with Grant’s. A hot wave of primal satisfaction radiates from his muscular body, but I watch as he struggles to subdue it, not without a concerted effort. Did I do something wrong? Why won’t he say anything?
“I d-didn’t…” I stammer, my body still inching toward cloud nine despite the turmoil in my chest. “I-I don’t know why I said that.”
“Oh yes, you do. It’s a long time coming,” Grant bites out, massaging me with the vibrator. “You will not call me your Daddy and take it back.” He starts to jiggle the device lightly, directly on top of my clitoris. And as if that’s not enough to push me past my breaking point, my stepbrother leans down and rakes his teeth over my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “Give me that cream right now, Sienna, before I do something I won’t be able to take back.”
I’ve been hovering right on the edge of what promises to be incredible bliss for the last few minutes, but it’s like I’ve been waiting for Grant to demand I let go. As soon as he does, I bite down on my lip and fling myself into the storm. I absorb that storm in my belly and it advances lower, lower, until my sex clenches up tight, so tight, and an overwhelming flood of relief passes through me. It tickles, it hurts, it revives. It’s everything.
While I shake like a leaf, I cling to the sound of Grant’s voice, but I can’t make out the words, only that I’m comforted to have him close. I wish he’d come closer, but the pleasure rollicking through my body is too intense to be distracted. I’m wracked with wave after wave of indescribable pleasure, my hands twisting in the material of Grant’s shirt. And then I simply turn limp, my vision winking and going dark.
I have the barest awareness of Grant hoisting me up into his arms and carrying me out of the living room. I want to ask him to kiss me goodnight and stay with me, but…there’s a worry building in my gut that I did—or said—something wrong. Or that I pushed Grant when I shouldn’t have. When he settles me in my bed and tucks me under the covers, I console myself with the belief that everything will be fine tomorrow.
But tomorrow is not fine.
It’s the opposite of fine.
CHAPTER FOUR
I haven’t seen Grant in five days.
My world is upside down and spinning down the toilet.
Energy eludes me. Getting out of bed is an effort and I have no appetite. I can’t concentrate in class and my instructors have asked several times if I’m okay. I think they’re worried I’m going to collapse and bring my angry stepbrother down on their heads again.
If something happened to me, would he even care anymore?
For the last year, I’ve never gone a day without seeing Grant. Whether at breakfast, during our evening hug or at dinner. On the couch while I read and he worked on his laptop. His home became my home, but only because he was in it. Now? As far as I can tell, he hasn’t set foot inside the penthouse since the night we messed around on the couch.
Since the night I called him Daddy.
Walking down the hallway of the finishing school toward Elegant Correspondence class with my dozen bodyguards flanking me on all sides, I drop my face into my hands and groan. I can’t believe I called Grant that name. I mean, I’d just accomplished the herculean feat of getting him to kiss me, then I let out the naughty, forbidden words from my subconscious. Was he horrified? Does he think bringing me to live with him was a mistake?
What if he’s making other arrangements for me as we speak?
I stop at my locker, punch in the combination, open the door and stick my head inside. My bodyguards are probably wondering what the heck is wrong with me, but on day one of their jobs, Grant made it forbidden to speak to me unless I’m in danger of some kind, so the big bruisers just stand beside me quietly. Fine by me. It hurts to talk, anyway.