Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Who says we’re becoming something?” I grin at him, shifting away when he tries to throw a pillow at me, releasing his hand. I throw the pillow back, slamming it into his chest. “You’re very presumptuous.”
“I love it when you fight,” he says, throwing the pillow at me again. I knock it aside and barely have time to yelp before he grabs my ankle and yanks me over to him. I laugh, struggling, but he’s too damn strong. I end up on my belly, one arm pinned behind my back, his weight holding me down. “I love it even better when you give in.”
“I prefer to keep on fighting,” I say, wiggling my ass. Against all odds, he’s starting to get hard again. The insatiable monster. “Keeps you honest.”
“Keeps me wanting you, more like.” He breathes in my hair and bites my back. I squirm harder, laughing as I try to get away, but he holds on tight to my hair. “Keeps me wanting to punish you. Which I’m starting to think you greatly enjoy. I can’t imagine why else you’d act like such a bad girl all the time.”
“And how are you going to punish me now? With your continued presence? With your odious personality? You do realize every waking moment with you is a punishment?” I try to struggle away, but his hands are like iron manacles.
“You have no idea what it means to be punished, little darling,” he whispers in my ear, practically cooing at me. “I could tie your hands behind your back. Use you like a doll. Fuck you senseless.”
I shiver, pulse racing into my throat. “Sorry, where’s the punishment in that? Sounds like a good time to me. Well, with anyone but you.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. Most women wouldn’t want to be called a fuck doll, and here you are, drooling at the idea.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m drooling, but I’m certainly interested. Know someone worth trying it with?”
“Naughty girl.” He laughs, then turns me over, pinning my hands above my head. He’s definitely hard now, his cock pressing up between my legs as he kisses me.
“I’m the naughty one? You can’t be around me for ten minutes without trying to get in my pants.” I bite his lip. “Prick. Keep your hands to yourself.”
He laughs, releases my wrists, and drops between my legs. I try to twist away, but he’s holding me tight as his mouth finds my pussy, licking me slowly at first. “Lovely girl,” he purrs. “I very much enjoy the way you taste, my pretty Ren. I love the noises you make even more. You do realize how sinful you sound when you’re moaning my name? It’s absolutely debased, utterly filthy. You sound like you can’t control yourself.”
“Careful,” I whimper as he licks me, spreading me with his tongue. “Still tender. And I can control myself all I want.”
“Sore from all this fucking? And here I was thinking you could handle it.”
“I can handle a lot worse than you,” I say through my teeth, holding back moans. My head’s spinning from his dirty talk. “But I’m starting to tolerate this.”
He laughs, licking me faster. I’m wet, I’m moaning, and Lanzo goes to work. The man knows exactly how to push my buttons, exactly where to lick, where to stroke, when to slide his fingers deep inside. I’m writhing against him, brain turning into mush, and soon I come for the fifth time today under his exceedingly skilled tongue.
“Good girl,” he says, kissing me, letting me taste myself in his mouth.
We shower after then sit in the living room in sweats and eat take-out.
He tells me more stories from his travels, nicer stories this time, stories about making German friends in France, about helping a kind older couple in Belarus with their chickens, human stories. The sort of thing I can’t imagine him sharing with his macho Atlas friends.
I feel comfortable. It’s strange, how we’re clicking together, falling into place, finding a rhythm. This is the new phase, where everything’s exciting, but I love this tumble from probably-maybe-sorta into yes-yes-please-yes-more. It starts as a dance and ends in a freefall.
And right now, I’m dropping through air.
Only there has to be a bottom at some point. There has to be solid ground, stability, something I can rely on.
Only I don’t know if I have that with Lanzo.
I keep thinking about how surprised his friends seemed that he had a girlfriend. How they all assume he’ll disappear back to Europe the moment this thing with Burian is over.
Can I really let myself get attached to a man that most likely won’t be here anymore after this is all over?
I put my feet in his lap, listening to him talk, watching his lips move, except all I’m thinking about is how badly this is going to hurt when it’s over.