Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 169266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
My hands make quick work of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She’s wearing a simple beige bra underneath—nothing fancy, just cotton and lace—and somehow, that’s hotter than any lingerie I’ve ever seen. I yank the cups down, freeing her breasts to the cooling air, and watch her nipples pebble instantly.
“Look at you,” I marvel, tracing a finger around one stiff peak, not quite touching. “So fucking responsive. So eager.”
“Nate, please—”
“Please what?” I pinch her nipple, just hard enough to make her gasp. “Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”
“I want…” She squirms beneath me, trying to press closer. “I want your mouth. Please.”
I lower my head and suck her nipple into my mouth, hard, and she cries out so loud, it echoes off the barn walls. I work her with my tongue, my teeth, switching between breasts until she’s writhing and whimpering and her hands are fisting in my hair.
But it’s not enough. I need more. Need to push her further, take her deeper, find the edge of what she can handle and drag her right over it, take us both into the abyss.
I pull back, ignoring her whine of protest, and reach for the haybale next to us. With a swift, easy yank, I break the binding holding it together, then start spooling it in my hands.
“I’m going to tie you up,” I tell her, yanking on the rope so it’s taut. “Hands above your head. And then, I’m going to do whatever I want to you until you scream my name.” I pause, holding her gaze. “What’s your safe word?”
“Milkshake,” she breathes.
“That’s a good girl.”
I grab her wrists—both fit easily in one of my hands, so fragile, so fucking perfect—and bind them together. The rope is soft from years of holding the hay together and won’t cut into her skin, but it’s strong enough to hold her. I loop the end around one of the old wooden support beams above us and secure it, leaving her arms stretched overhead, her back arched, her breasts thrust toward the rafters.
Christ. She looks like a goddamn sacrifice.
An offering to something ancient and hungry.
To a god.
A god like me.
Easy, boy, I remind myself. Danny would have my head if he knew I just referred to myself as a god. He’s always the one telling me to keep my ego at bay.
“You okay?” I ask, checking the bindings.
“Yes.” Her voice is trembling, but her eyes are bright with desire. “More than okay.”
I sit back on my heels and just look at her. The golden light painting her skin. The way her chest heaves with each breath. The flush spreading down her throat, between her breasts, disappearing beneath the waistband of her wide-leg pants. She’s like a fucking painting, hung up for my eyes only.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” I tell her, reaching for the button of her pants. “Going to taste every inch of this perfect fucking body. And you’re going to lie there and take it because you can’t do anything else. You’re captive. Trapped. At my mercy. You’re mine right now, Mia. Completely mine.”
“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes dancing feverishly. “Yours.”
The word hits me like a fist to the chest. Mine. She is mine. This brilliant, fierce, complicated woman is mine to touch, mine to taste, mine to ruin.
I drag her pants down her legs, taking her underwear with them, and toss them somewhere into the hay. She’s completely bare now, and I take a moment to appreciate the view. The soft curve of her stomach. The flare of her hips. The neat strip of dark hair between her thighs, already glistening with arousal.
“Spread your legs,” I order.
She obeys instantly, her thighs falling open, and I have to close my eyes for a second, because the sight of her—bound and open and dripping for me—is almost too much.
“Look at this pretty pussy.” I trace one finger through up her, gathering the wetness there before slowly pushing it inside. “Soaked already. So fucking wet. Is this all for me?”
“Yes—”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, it’s for you. All for you. Please, Nate, I need—”
“You’ll get what I give you, baby.” I bring my finger to my mouth and suck it clean, watching her eyes darken with desire. “And right now, what I’m giving you is a lesson in patience.”
I start at her ankle, kiss my way up her calf, her knee, her inner thigh. She’s trembling by the time I reach the crease where her leg meets her body, and I can smell her arousal—musky and sweet and absolutely intoxicating. But I don’t touch where she needs and wants me. Instead, I switch to her other ankle and start the journey all over again.
“God, please, no. I—”
“Shh.” I nip at her inner thigh, making her cry out before soothing the sting with my tongue. “I told you I was taking my time.”