Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
But River is different. I don’t know why, but with him, I don’t have to constantly fight. I can just relinquish control, even if just for a few minutes. And it makes me feel alive.
Deep down, I must trust River to a degree, and I don’t trust anyone except for my brother.
Ever so slowly, this man has carved his way into my space and maybe more…
I push that thought away.
I can’t focus on the more.
I only have now.
I’m not even sure why I’m giving him the power, but fuck, his cock tasted good.
I want another taste.
His hand moves to my other ass cheek before he leans over me from behind. I can feel his breath near my ear.
“How wet?” he asks me.
“Very wet.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his hand sliding down between my ass cheeks until it reaches my pussy and he slips a finger between my folds. I moan at his touch, and am aware of its disappearance the moment it leaves my pussy. When I look over my shoulder, I watch mesmerized as he puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them with eyes closed before opening them with a smile. “I think you should taste it.”
I nod my head, eager for whatever it is he wants to give me. But he grips my ass with both hands, and I feel him at my entrance. His cock teases me before it slides inside, and it’s like heaven, eliciting a moan from my lips. One I can’t contain. But the minute I feel full, he pulls away, leaving me empty and desperate.
My eyes spring open, and he lazily walks around me and sits at the end of the bed. He looks down at me and indicates with one finger—the same one he tasted me with—to continue crawling to him. I do as I’m told, my eyes on his very hard cock. It glistens from being coated in my wetness.
When I reach him, he puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head. “Now, up.”
My gaze doesn’t want to move from his cock. It’s beautiful. He’s perfectly manicured, veins in all the right places, and it’s large. And, fuck, does it feel good inside me.
“Taste,” he says as he reaches for my hair yet again and brings my head down to his cock. I wrap my mouth around him and take him as far down as I can go. I can taste myself on him.
He moans, but I can’t take all of him in; he’s too large for that. Lifting my head up and down, I go again. When I reach for the base of his cock, he stops me and pulls back. “No. My bad girl needs something a little more. You can stand now.”
I sit up on my heels, my dress still up around my waist, as I watch him pull something from a drawer. I see it’s something made of leather. “Undress.”
I’ve seen almost every sex contraption and toy imaginable, so I leave it as a surprise as I reach for my hem and follow his directive. I’m usually in charge in the bedroom. I don’t let a man lead, but here I am, listening to every command he gives.
Why?
Because it feels fucking good not to be in charge for once in my life.
“Anya.” I focus on him and not what he’s holding. Because it doesn’t matter what River uses on me or does to me. I understand now what he’s been training me for this entire time. The kisses. Intentionally forcing me to hold out on sex. It’s about trust and connection. Something I’ve never had in the bedroom unless I controlled it. Have I ever enjoyed sex like this? No. I thought I had, but it will never compare. I now realize it was always lacking, and perhaps that’s because I’ve never desired anyone like I have River.
“Don’t think, just feel,” he commands. I nod at his instruction. It’s nice to focus solely on his voice and, for a split second, not think, not second-guess. Just do.
Sliding my dress all the way off, I keep my heels on. He smiles, and when I reach him, he turns me around so my back is facing him. He then places the item over my head. A ball goes into my mouth, and it straps around to the back of my head. He reaches for both my hands and straps them in as well, locking them behind my back. When I try to move my restrained hands, my head yanks back. Everything is connected.
He tugs on the contraption, pulling me up and onto the bed, still on my knees.
He drops to his knees in front of me, my hands behind my back, unable to move.
“Maybe I should use a gag on you more often so there are no complaints,” he says with an arrogant smile.