Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
But I already knew I had crossed an impossible line.
Fucking her would be one step too far.
I licked her through her orgasm, not stopping until her thighs released my head.
Standing to my full height, I peered down at her.
Charlotte Manwarring, the princess, was laid out on a table, her skirt up around her waist, exposing everything. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks red.
She looked ruined, and it was beautiful.
I couldn’t help myself as I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers.
Her kiss was sweet. She melted against my mouth, opening for me.
“Fuck, princess,” I said, after reluctantly breaking the kiss.
I was about to lean in and press my lips to hers again when her eyes flew open.
Then her hand slammed across my face.
CHAPTER 7
CHARLOTTE
Ineeded to get out of here. Now.
After pushing Reid off of me, I stepped out of my shoes long enough to push my skirt back down where it belonged. Hiding behind my hair, I marched straight to the door, trying not to lick my lips to taste the combination of his lips and my shame.
I needed to run somewhere where I could be safe, where I could stop and think and figure out what had happened and process everything.
How could I have let him do that?
I didn’t even tell him no.
I didn’t even try to stop him.
I let him spank me like an errant child and then… and then… devour me.
Oh, hell. I could barely think it, let alone face the reality of it.
My chest constricted as the weight of humiliation and regret settled on me like an icy, wet blanket.
Wet.
Damn.
Don’t. Think. Wet.
Don’t ever think about the word wet ever, ever, ever again.
I could still feel the brush of his beard against my inner thighs like some kind of tormenting muscle memory.
Had I really grabbed his hair and pulled him closer as I moaned?
Obviously, I would now need to change my name and leave the country.
Or at the very least, get on my knees and beg my father to assign me a different bodyguard.
I had honestly thought men didn’t actually enjoy doing that!
Yet, Reid had seemed so enthusiastic about it. One thing was for certain, he had ruined me for my favorite vibrator. There was no way that mechanical buzzing would now compare to the warm pressure of his tongue.
Halfway to the door… Reid grabbed me.
Spinning me back toward him, he gripped me tight by the back of my neck and locked me to his body with his other hand cupping my sore bottom hard enough to make me cry out.
“You don’t get to say when we stop kissing, princess. Only I do.”
His words were less spoken than growled as he laced his fingers in my hair and angled my head the way he wanted before he slammed his lips back down on mine.
This kiss wasn’t like the first one.
The first one had been gentle, almost seeming like he wanted to explore me, taste me, and know me.
This kiss wasn’t about knowing me.
This kiss was about owning me.
He pressed his body against mine as he deepened the kiss, shoving his tongue in my mouth, holding me to him with his hands in my hair, his body pressed against mine, the thick line of his cock pressed into my stomach.
By the time he broke the kiss, my head spun. He then pushed me against the wall, caging me in with his body.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Now, let’s get your shit and get you in the fucking car.”
Even the gruff way he spoke to me, something about the command in his voice, made my body ache for more of him.
The worst part was I wanted to obey him.
There was something different in his orders from my father’s or brother’s, something darker and forbidden.
With my face burning from embarrassment and shame, my heart racing, my behind sore, and my core wet and aching, I scurried to the door of the classroom.
As I reached down to grab the handle of my cello case, his large hand covered mine. “I got this.”
I pulled on the handle. “It’s my cello. I can carry it.”
He placed his hand on my waist as he pressed into me from behind. His breath ruffled my hair as he said, “If you don’t let go of this handle, I’ll bend you forward, flip your skirt back up, and finish what I started.”
With a shocked gasp, I released the cello case handle as if it had burned my palm.
Stiffening my spine as I pushed my chin high, I deliberately flipped my hair over my shoulder, catching him in the face. “Fine.”
I became annoyed when my impertinent gesture only elicited a chuckle from him. With that, I continued toward the classroom door, unlocked it, and moved to swing it open.
“Open that door and it won’t be my hand on your ass, but my belt.”