Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
And I was the lucky son of a bitch who got to give it to him.
I chuckled and clutched Anurak a little closer, desperately trying to ignore my own erection throbbing in my pants. My sweet puppy was taken care of and sated. That was all I gave a fuck about. I could take care of myself later.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Anurak
The sticky mess drying in my pants was quickly beginning to rip me out of the cozy headspace I’d fallen into after Rico had gotten me off. I squirmed uncomfortably on Rico’s lap before leaning back, my face screwing up in distaste. Rico frowned at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. Even though the mess in my pants was making me irritable, I still couldn’t help but lean my face into his touch. I was so touch-starved for comforting touches. And Rico was so good at making me feel safe when he touched me. I craved his hands on me so badly.
“I’m sticky,” I whined, then tensed. Master had always hated it when I whined. But unlike Master, Rico just leaned forward to softly kiss me, which made my heart go all fluttery and light.
“Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up, perrito,” he murmured. When I made to get off his lap, Rico gripped my hips, pinning me in place, and arching a disapproving brow at me. Immediately, I flushed, my fingers coming up to twist in his shirt to cling to him.
“What?” I mumbled.
“Did I say you could get up?” I squeaked, clinging to him tighter when he suddenly stood, his hands gripping my ass to keep me up. “I want to carry you, perrito.”
I frowned at him. “What does perrito mean?” I tentatively asked. He’d been calling me that from the moment we met, and no matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn’t sort out its meaning. It was definitely foreign—maybe Spanish? It sounded Spanish.
“Perrito means puppy,” Rico informed me. “When you crawled down those stairs, you looked like a wounded, kicked puppy, and I just wanted to bundle you in my arms and take you home.”
A shiver raced down my spine, and I released his shirt to link my arms behind his neck. “You did bring me home like a little puppy.”
He chuckled as he ascended the staircase. “That I did. Because you’re mine, Anurak. I saw you, and I wanted you, and I would not let anyone or anything stand in my way.”
I nuzzled his cheek, unable to stop the wide, beaming smile from tilting my lips. “I’m glad you did,” I said quietly.
He squeezed my ass, and I barely swallowed back a moan. “I’m glad I did, too, perrito.”
I stepped out of the bathroom, a frown tugging at my lips when I noticed Rico was putting my new clothes away, all of them freshly washed. Something ugly stung at my chest when I realized he would expect me to wear my own clothes now when I was sleeping because despite me saying I didn’t need pajamas, Rico had insisted I get my own anyway.
I wanted to wear his clothes.
“Perrito, what’s wrong?” Rico asked, coming to stand in front of me.
I shook my head, looking longingly at the bed. I was so tired after my orgasm and my shower. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to wear my own pajamas to bed if Rico laid with me? That was a good compromise, right? But was I in a position to compromise? I was still trying to find my footing with Rico and where I fit into his life.
Warm, calloused fingers gripped my chin and forced my head back. Rico’s dark eyes were narrowed on my face, searching my expression like it’d give him the answers he was seeking.
“Do not make me ask again, Anurak.” That ugly feeling in my chest spread at his use of my real name. “I don’t like seeing you upset and not being able to fix whatever is bothering you.”
“It’s stupid,” I mumbled, wishing I could look away from him, but he had me captivated.
He shook his head. “Whatever is bothering you is not stupid. If it’s bothering you, it matters. Tell me what it is, perrito. Let me fix it.”
Stupid tears welled in my eyes. I was too tired for this conversation, and I knew my tiredness was turning me into an overstimulated, confused, upset mess. But I couldn’t stop it.
“I don’t want to wear my own pajamas when I go to sleep, and I want a nap, but I know you have things to do, so you probably can’t lay with me, and—”
He silenced me with a kiss and dragged me close to him. With one tug, the towel was gone from my hips, and my naked body was pressed against his clothed one. I shivered, clinging to him as I opened my mouth beneath his, seeking more of his kiss. I wanted him to devour me. To own me.