Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“Starving,” I tell her, and she smiles, her eyes meeting mine once again.
“I hope you like Italian.”
“I do.”
She picks up two plates and walks over to the table, setting them down. “I had to substitute a couple of things, but for the most part, you had what I needed.”
“Smells delicious.”
She makes her way back to the wine fridge and pops open one, pouring herself a glass to the rim. Then she carries the bottle over to the table with her. Sitting down, she brings the glass to her lips and sucks it down until it’s empty. As if she needs the liquid courage to sit through dinner with me. She will need way more than that to sleep in my bed.
When she picks up the wine bottle and goes to refill it, I pick up the glass, causing the wine to spill onto the table and floor. “What the hell?” she barks, glaring up at me.
“One glass is enough,” I tell her.
“Haidyn,” she growls, and it’s so cute.
“After dinner, you’re going to undress yourself, and I’m going to tie you to my bed.” Her eyes widen at my words. “I’m going to gag you, and I’d prefer you not to be so drunk that you choke on your vomit. But if that’s the way you want to go…” I shrug. “That’s on you.” With that, I pick up my bourbon.
She straightens out her arm, putting the wine bottle as far away from her as possible, and I don’t even try to hide my smile.
FORTY-TWO
CHARLOTTE
He’s finished with his dinner, and I pick up his plate along with mine. I didn’t even take a single bite. I thought I was hungry, but after he spoke to me about what I’m going to do, I no longer wanted pasta. I wanted him.
I’m placing the dishes in the sink when he picks up his bourbon and downs what’s left. He sets the now empty glass in the sink as well and shuts off the water. “Leave them,” he orders and then walks toward his bedroom.
I follow like a devoted puppy, knowing what’s going to happen next. Entering his room, he tells me, “Everything off the bed except for the fitted sheet, and then undress yourself.” He slips into his bathroom, and I take in a shaky breath.
I do as I’m told, putting the linens over in the far corner, then remove the two pillows and set them in front of the sliding glass doors that lead out onto the wraparound porch. I slowly toe off my shoes, then remove my socks and unzip my jeans. My breathing is so heavy that I don’t even hear him returning from the bathroom.
My eyes drop to both of his hands, and he’s got black leather belts in them. Two in each.
“Lie on the bed. Face up.” His voice is cold and detached.
Although I’m already half naked, I’m burning up. Quickly removing my shirt and bra, I do as I’m told and lie down in the bed, swallowing nervously as I stare at the dark ceiling.
He sits down next to me and lays my left arm across his thigh. Dropping three belts on the bed, he keeps the fourth one and wraps it around my wrist, buckling it tight enough I can’t slip my hand through it. Then he hooks his finger through the silver ring and moves it to where it lies against the top of my hand. He then does the same to the right.
“Arms out to your sides.”
Taking in a shaky breath, I run my arms along the cool fitted sheet and fan them both out. He stands and kneels next to the bed, and I lift my head just enough to see him pulling the rope out from under the bed and threading it through the silver ring connected to the leather cuff, securing it to the bed frame. He repeats the process with the other.
He ties them tight, pulling my shoulders, and I arch my neck, biting my lip, not wanting to moan at being at his mercy. I fucking hate him so goddamn much I want to scream, and he knows it. That’s probably why he wants to gag me.
Opening the nightstand, he removes a few things, but I can’t see what they are. He gets onto the bed, spreading my shaking legs with his knees, and then his hand is on my pussy, making me jump.
His chuckle fills the room. “Relax, doll face.”
I want to cry, but I’m not sure why. It can’t be from embarrassment; the man has seen every inch of me. Maybe it’s knowing how helpless I am and that he’s going to make me beg for the slightest touch or to get off.
He slides something under my ass, and I feel liquid being poured between my legs. His fingers are there, rubbing the spot where I want him the most.