Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Lucien stalks across the room like she’s prey, coming to stand just in front of her. My heart is in my throat as she tips her head back to look into his gaze.
“Strip,” he growls without touching her.
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Do you think they’re together in real life?” I ask, wondering what it would be like to be with someone like that. What would it be like to be with such a dominant man? What would it be like to be playing with him as dozens of people watch me?
She shrugs out of the trench coat, and it pools on the floor at their feet. She’s in a lacy emerald green bra and panty set.
“Turn. Show the audience what’s mine,” Lucien demands.
I suck in a breath, barely able to breathe and watch as she again follows his command without question.
“They have to be,” he says. “Look at the way he controls her. That kind of submission is earned.”
Lucien steps behind her. He flicks something on her back. Her bra lowers, the straps falling from her shoulders to her arms. The movement exposes her breasts to the view of the audience. But she stares out into the darkness, unashamed of her nakedness.
He cups her breasts, running his fingers across her nipples. He’s saying something in her ear, and I imagine that it’s me and Ford on that stage. He’s telling me how pretty I am, how proud he is of me, what a good girl I am.
“It takes a lot of trust that the other person won’t hurt you,” I tell the stranger next to me.
He puts his hand on my knee underneath my dress, his thumb moving in small circles. As Lucien and Celeste continue to play on stage, the stranger next to me rubs slow, soothing circles around my knee.
I part my legs, letting him know he can go higher. He continues rubbing those same small circles until I whimper, “Touch me.”
He chuckles, but it’s a strangled sound. Slowly, he moves his hand higher and higher, continuing his soft massage even as he ducks his head, leaning into my space. We’re so close that when he speaks, his breath fans across my face. “I have to tell you something.”
“Just don’t stop touching me,” I gasp as his thumb reaches the apex of my thighs. He’s just at the edge of my underwear, teasing both of us.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first moment I saw you.” There’s something about his whispered, rumbled confession in the dark.
“Then kiss me,” I tell him.
It’s the only invitation he needs. His other hand goes to the back of my neck, holding me, steadying me. Then he closes the gap between our lips, and I wasn’t prepared for the electric current that sparks between us at the first feather-light connection of our lips. One small brush, and I’m already addicted, already desperate for more of him.
I clutch his shoulders, my fingers digging into the material of his tuxedo. How can he be so amazing at kissing?
When I whimper, he uses the noise to sweep his tongue into my mouth. He strokes me softly while groaning. The contrast of his pained need mixed with gentle touch of his thumb against my center has me leaking into my panties.
I arch into him when his fingers finally slip underneath the gusset of my underwear and caress my swollen, pink flesh.
“So much sweet cream for me,” he murmurs.
I pause. For a moment, I could swear he sounds just like Ford. But I remind my traitorous heart that’s only wishful thinking. This man can’t possibly be the scruffy mountain man who likes nothing more than scowling at me.
He senses my hesitation and slows but doesn’t stop his motions. It’s like he can’t stop touching me, like it will be too painful for both of us. “Do you want to slow down?”
I slide my hands down from his shoulders to grip his coat and bring him closer. “Make me forget him.”
Fury crosses his expression, a look of a possessive predator that will fight to the death for what’s his. “I don’t know who he was, but he’s not worthy of the air you breathe. Do you own a mirror? You’re fuckin’ gorgeous and that motherfucker missed out.”
“All the better for you,” I murmur as I lean up and nuzzle his neck. At least, as much of it as I can get to with that shirt collar in the way. His beard tickles my cheek, the softness sending a shiver down my spine.
He goes back to stroking my folds, one finger slipping into my entrance. He swears as soon as he breaches my tight channel. “Fuck, you keep it nice and tight, don’t you? Make a man work to loosen you.”
His words send fire through my veins. I’ve never felt as alive as I do now in this darkened booth with a stranger touching my pussy and telling me how beautiful I am. Fuckin’ gorgeous. I’m going to remember those words for the rest of my life. Probably this night too.