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)
“No more talking back, little queen.” The strap comes down again, harder this time. I’m gasping for breath. “No more second guessing or waffling. I told you what to expect, and I told you to trust me. No more running that pretty mouth of yours when you already know who’s in control.”
The strap lands again, crossing the line of heat already throbbing. I whimper, and it feels so much more like surrender than protest. My fingers dig into the bar in front of me, bracing against his command. I nod, even while I know I’m welcoming another lash of the strap.
The leather cracks down harder, and my knees buckle, my fingers clutching the bar like a lifeline. My breath is shallow, each sting searing through me, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure.
“Yes,” I manage to croak. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” His free hand smoothes over the heated line of my skin. “You like this, don’t you? The way I handle you. The way you can finally stop trying to carry everything yourself.”
He brings it back and snaps it again, another line of pain lighting up the first. “Hands on that bar, Ember. Just like that, baby.”
Again, he spanks me with the strap before he unfurls it, slides it between my legs, and then lifts it like a reverse saddle. He drags the leather upward, teasing and deliberate, until it presses against the slick ache he’s created. I’m so wet, so aroused, I wantonly shimmy my hips across the leather.
“Such a bad girl,” he says, shaking his head as he leans in behind me and whispers in my ear. “You want to come again, don’t you, baby?”
He slides the strap back and forth, slow and torturous, and the friction sends a jolt through me. My hips jerk, and I’m aching for relief.
“Look at you,” he says approvingly. “So eager. So willing to take what I give you.”
My body trembles as I arch into his touch.
“Beg me, little queen. Say it. I want to hear you beg.”
“Please—let me come, please.” My voice is barely audible as I’m fighting the heady rush of arousal and need, taking all my effort to hold myself up.
The strap tightens between my thighs. “Not yet. You’ll come when I say you can.”
And then it’s gone. Cool air and emptiness in its wake.
His mouth to my ear, he tortures me. “That’s the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. The sexiest spanked ass I’ve ever laid eyes on. When you meet everyone, I want the vision of this at the forefront of your memory.”
“Rodion—”
If he doesn’t let me come—
“Patience, little queen. I want to get you to the penthouse first. We’ll talk there.”
With his warm mouth on my shoulder, he plants a scathing kiss on my collarbone before putting the strap back in place.
“We’re almost there,” he says with a wicked grin.
“Noooo,” I whine.
I topple against him, but he rights me and holds me.
“I promise you. The wait will be worth it.” I whimper when he drags my jeans up my sore ass and rights me.
“I can’t believe you’re—”
But my words die on my lips as the elevator door opens.
My stomach flips at the sight that waits for us.
Chapter 20
RODION
Son of a bitch.
Well, if it isn’t the Kopolov family, here en force, ready to greet me and my little queen.
They could’ve warned a guy. And why do they all look so pissed?
Ember’s grip on my hand tightens as we step off the elevator. The tension in the air is suffocating.
“I didn’t expect such a welcome party,” I say smoothly, aware of Ember’s nervous breathing and shaking beside me. I know the sight before her is probably terrifying—Rafail, his dark, assessing eyes narrowed on the two of us, his lips curled in a not-quite-there smile. Semyon, his gaze cold and calculating behind thin glasses, as aloof and threatening as always. My cousin Matvei, large and looming with his weapon drawn, beside them. All are dressed in business casual as if they’re ready to step out to grab dinner with consultants.
“Put it away, Matvei,” I say in a low voice. “Jesus.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he slips the gun in a holster, but his stance doesn’t change.
“So this is the girl you brought,” Rafail says.
Well, thanks for the warm family greeting.
“This is Ember. And yes, she’s with me. Why the welcome party?”
We step off the elevator. Jesus, I hope no one heard her moans in the elevator shaft.
Rafail’s tone is icy. “You sure this is a good idea, Rodion?”
My fingers tighten on Ember’s hand, my voice as sharp as a razor. “Excuse me?”
“This is the one you asked me to expedite home.”
Rage threads through my limbs as I shake my head. I don’t appreciate the note of derision or how he’s talking about Ember like she’s fucking cargo. “Obviously, yes. Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on? Where are the girls?”