Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
My body responds before my brain does, my thighs squeezing together in search of friction. He notices, of course, because Rodion misses nothing. A dark smirk pulls at his lips as he crawls onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. He smells like woodsmoke and pine. The warmth of his body contrasts with the cold of the cabin. His eyes burn into me like lasers, focused and sharp.
I shiver.
I want more.
“You like this,” he says, his hand brushing my bare thigh before gripping it hard, pinning me in place. “You like being tied up for me. You like being helpless under me, don’t you, little queen?”
I hate how easily he pulls the truth out of me, even as I shake my head.
“Lying doesn’t suit you,” he whispers, leaning in until his breath skates across my ear. “But I don’t mind. I’ll make an honest woman out of you.”
His hand leaves my thigh, and before I can process the loss, he brings it down on my ass—hard.
Oh fuck.
The sound cracks through the cabin, sharp and punishing, and I gasp, my back arching involuntarily. The sting blossoms into heat, and I feel it everywhere, radiating through my body and settling deep in my core.
I want more.
“Rodion!” I gasp, but he shakes his head, his smirk turning into something darker.
“You know you love it, little queen,” he says, his palm sliding over the spot he just spanked, soothing it before lifting his hand again.
The second slap lands harder, stealing my breath. It’s the kind of pain that melts into pleasure too fast, too easily, leaving me trembling and aching for more.
“Do you understand now?” he asks, his voice velvet and steel. “You don’t get to tease me with your fantasies and then squirm when I make them real.”
“I wasn’t squirming,” I shoot back, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them.
His laughter is dark and dangerous. “No?” He leans back, dragging his hand across my skin again before delivering another stinging blow. This time, I can’t stop the whimper that slips from my lips.
“Say it, baby,” he commands, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, teasing and tormenting. “Say you’re mine.”
“You’re insane,” I manage, but my voice wavers, betraying me.
He shifts lower, his mouth pressing kisses along the sensitive skin of my thighs, each one hotter and closer to where I need him most. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?” he asks, his lips brushing against the edge of my panties.
“No,” I admit, the word barely a whisper.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his breath hot against me as he peels the fabric down. This time, I love the “good girl.” His fingers slide between my thighs, and I can’t stop the sharp cry that escapes when he finds how wet I am.
“You’re dripping for me,” he says, his voice heavy with approval. “My little queen, so fucking wet for her king.”
I moan, arching into his touch, but he pulls away before I can chase the feeling.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “You’re not getting what you want until I’m satisfied.”
I writhe against the ropes, frustration building to a fever pitch as he trails his fingers up my stomach, between my breasts, and back to my jaw. He grips it, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“Do you know what happens to queens who disobey their king?” he asks, his tone deceptively soft.
I shake my head, too breathless to speak, and his smirk returns, wicked and knowing. “They get punished.”
Before I can respond, he flips me over, the ropes twisting to hold me in place as he pushes me onto my stomach. His hand comes down on my ass again, the sharp sting sending a surprising jolt of pleasure through my entire body.
“Count.”
Oh my fucking god, he really is acting out every damn fantasy. But wait… I need a minute.
“Rodion—”
“I said count, little queen.”
“One,” I whisper, and he rewards me with another stinging slap.
“Louder,” he demands, his free hand resting on the small of my back, holding me still.
“Two!” I cry, my voice breaking as the heat between my legs intensifies, the sting of his hand fueling a fire I can’t control.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. His hand soothes the burn with a slow, deliberate caress, but it’s not enough. The ache inside me grows sharper, my body trembling with need. How could I have ever denied liking good girl?
It’s everything.
The next strike lands harder, and I arch into it, the ropes digging into my wrists as I pull against them. “Three!” I gasp, the sound raw and desperate.
“Perfect,” he growls, his free hand sliding between my thighs. His fingers find my slick heat, and I choke on a moan as he teases me, circling just enough to drive me mad but not enough to push me over.