Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I’d rather jump off a roof. I’d rather—” Another spank. Another. I don’t get to finish my sentence, and I’m not sure what I was about to say since my brain’s a buzzing mess of pleasure and pain, but I bet it was hilarious and biting.
“You’ll stay right here, right where I’m holding you, and you’ll let me spank your ass until I’ve had enough.” Another spank, this one so hard I release a low moan of pain, but before I can try to twist away, his fingers plunge into my pussy, forcing my brain into overload.
The signals get crossed. Pleasure’s pain, pain’s pleasure, and there’s him in the middle of it all, my Erick, my kidnapper, the man that saw something in me and pushed me to my limits.
I never knew I could paint like that. It never occurred to me to try. Nearly killing myself to create art has never really been my style—I’ve always wanted comfort too much for that.
Erick took me there. He took me and showed me what I could be.
Just like right now, as he spanks my ass again and fucks me with his fingers. He’s showing me how badly I want him, how badly I need him to make me hurt so he can make me feel even better. I’m writhing, hips wiggling in the air, and I hear his belt unbuckle, hear him growl with pleasure. I look back over my shoulder and he’s stroking himself, staring at my dripping pussy like he’s having a vision of heaven.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs, and I feel the tip of his cock press against my gaping, aching entrance.
“Show me,” I say, meeting his gaze.
He slides himself inside. I whimper, groan, and he fills me to the brim. Right as he bottoms out, he spanks me again, hits me hard enough to make me scream, and that’s when he fucks me. Takes me rough, fills me deep. Makes my back arch, grabs my hair, kissing me over my shoulder.
My brain fries and I come in a mess as he kneels behind me, filling my soaking cunt over and over again.
Sweat drips down my skin. Aftershocks of orgasm rock through my spine. He doesn’t stop—he hasn’t had his fill. He turns me over, gets between my legs, and licks my sensitive pussy. I gasp, wriggling away, but he holds me by the legs and laps me up and down before getting himself into position again.
“You feel so fucking good,” he says, the thick tip of his long cock slowly parting me in half. “Easy now, Hellie, nice and easy.” His hips move back and forth. I pant, moaning as he takes off my top and licks my nipples, sucking them hard. Pleasure blooms again, damn my sensitive breasts. He licks, fucking me faster, and holds my hands above my head.
“Is this what you were thinking about while I was working?” I ask, loving the way he’s looking at me as he rocks back on his knees, his cock sliding in and out, his eyes roaming my body.
“Yes,” he says, voice husky.
“You wanted to fuck me? For five days, you watched me work, and that whole time this is what you wanted?”
“Yes,” he says, moaning now. “I wanted to fuck you right there in your studio. Fill you up in front of your easel. Fuck you on top of that expensive fucking painting, ruin the whole thing, just to get you off.”
“You’re a bad man.”
“I am a very bad man.” He kisses me, his tongue in my mouth, then fucks me faster. “I am a very, very bad man, my devil girl, and you feel like the only good pieces of me all put together.”
I arch my back and I’m grinding into him now, moving to a rhythm only we can hear. I pull him down to kiss me again as bliss blooms between my legs and we’re going faster, pushing harder. I moan into his mouth, into his lips, and he bites my shoulder, bites my nipples, grabs my hips as he takes me deeper and deeper.
And I come first. I come again, back arching, mind going black like that flow state but better, more intense, like five days of hard work all boiled into ten seconds. He doesn’t stop, keeps going, and I feel him fill me deep, coming between my legs.
He groans as he pulls me against his chest, his cock still buried between my legs. I wiggle, smiling to myself. I want to feel him there for as long as I can.
“Tell me again why I haven’t been doing that every night?” he asks.
“Well, for starters, I’ve been forging an extremely expensive painting and have been basically unaware of my surroundings for the last five days.”
“That’s a fair point. Fucking you when you’re like that wouldn’t have been fun.”