Exquisite Taste Read Online J.D. Hollyfield

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Suspense, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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She jumps at the sound of the door shutting and looks my way, offering me the gift of her aroused face. Her eyes are lost in the haze of the room. The potential. She witnessed what some of these things could do. Can offer someone. I’d bet my life her pussy is so swollen and wet, a mere flicker and she’d come.

“Would you like to try it?” I walk over and dislodge the flogger from the wall. Her eyes widen as they follow the tool in my hand. I fight the urge to take her off guard and strike her, feeling the need to tread lightly. “Put your hands on the bed.”

“What? Why?” She panics.

“Do what I say. I won’t hurt you.” She looks at me, finding the reassurance she needs that I’m telling the truth, and turns, placing her hands on the dark silk covered bed. I walk up behind her, rewarded by a sexy as fuck squeal as I pull her hips up. With my knee, I push her legs wider.

I truly underestimated her at first sight. Gazing at her taut little ass, I mentally take back the comments I made. The things I would do to her and enjoy every single bit of…

I raise her ass just a little more so I have access to her pussy, and commend myself for the dress choice. Due to the slit, I can see her wet panties. I didn’t send over lingerie because I knew the dress didn’t require a bra. But it seems she took it upon herself to ditch those awful cream panties from before for a black thong. I wonder what she would do if I dropped to my knees and put my mouth around her swollen cunt and sucked the orgasm right out of her. I’m tempted to do just that, but the way her body begins to shake tells me she would be disappointed if the flogger went unused.

“Don’t move or I won’t touch you.”

She turns her head to look at me. “Isn’t it don’t move, or you will touch me?”

“No, my innocent one. You want me to touch you. If you disobey, I deny you. Are we clear?”

Her eyes light up. Her mesmerizing hazel irises disappear behind lust-filled orbs. I grind my jaw, fighting every fiber inside me to go slow. I’ve never been one not to take exactly what I want. But right now, I’m holding back. And it’s slightly angering me. I shouldn’t care what she wants. She asked for this.

“Turn your head,” I demand, bringing my hand up, finding the perfect grip on the leather stick. I count to five in my head, each second angering me further. Once I get to five, I swipe the flogger between her legs. The rabbit fur smacks at her flesh. The quick sting results in a jolt, followed by the perfect moan from her lips. I want her to turn around so I can see those red lips open and purr for me when I do it again. I give her another five seconds to gather herself before striking again.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Is using the word fuck acceptable now?” I take my free hand and knead her ass cheek.

“Yes—no. I don’t know.”

I whip her again. Just light enough that she’ll receive the reward she wants, but not the blast she needs. I’ve been in this business long enough to know what women want. How long it’ll take for them to beg. Even the most headstrong women always do. If I hit her against her clit one more time with the force she desires, she’ll come. I’m not sure what game I’m trying to play with her anymore. My vision fogs over with lust, need, greed. I want nothing more than to do things to her. Hurt her. I never said I was a good man, and this game I’m playing is starting to put me on edge.

I pull away, dropping the flogger. Giving her my back, I rein in my own need for release and walk to the corner of the room where there’s a lever to lower the swing.

“What’s happening now?” She’s scrambling off the bed, her face flushed as she watches the swing lower in front of her.

“We’re gonna go for a little swing.” I return to the center of the room, steadying the seat, and open the latch. “Climb in,” I instruct. She stalls for a short moment, then does as she’s told. She has to lift her dress above her knees to close the bar between her legs. I don’t pretend I don’t notice the smeared wetness on her thighs.

“Arms up.” Grabbing her left forearm, I bring it to the clasp that will lock her arm in place and repeat with her right. Once complete, I step back and study my prey. She looks absolutely breathtaking. I want to strip her bare and mark her with every object in this room.


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