Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Lucian Manwarring didn’t play.
He dominated.
The way he rode on that field was the same way he dominated me in the bedroom or his office. I would bet that it even applied to the way he did business.
He didn’t play at being a CEO or a master of industry.
He didn’t even play at legal proceedings.
Lucian Manwarring only knew how to wage war.
I never had a chance.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him the entire match.
I was captivated.
The words I told my parents the night they died about me not wanting a prince or a soldier but a ruthless king rang in my ears over and over.
He was a man who took what he wanted because he could.
Seeing him on that horse facing down other men with unbridled intimidation had been spectacular. No one would ever take anything from Lucian Manwarring. No one would ever talk over him, disrespect him, or even attempt to extort or blackmail him.
He was untouchable.
And I was watching him prove that him playing a simple game on horseback had made me weak.
I wanted him, but I didn’t understand why.
I should hate him.
Every fiber of my being should be repulsed every time he touched me or looked at me, and instead, he set my blood on fire. Not with rage, not with hate, but with passion and need.
I didn’t understand it, and I couldn’t control it. No other man was ever going to make me feel like this again, and I had to decide what I was willing to do about it.
There was something else in his hand, something that he held at his side, just far enough back I couldn’t see what it was. He took a step towards me, and I took one back. The way he was looking at me, I understood why the animals outside had stopped making noise.
Turning my head to look outside, to see if there was some escape, some way I could run and get in public before he did anything, was a mistake. In that split second, he was on top of me, crowding me against the wall.
“I…” My voice trailed off.
What was I going to say?
I’m sorry I stared at you. I’m sorry I ignored everyone around me because I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.
I couldn’t say either of those things.
They were more than just an admittance of guilt.
They were an admission of want. That was a power I couldn’t give him, not that that would stop him from taking it anyway.
He didn’t say anything as he put his hand on my shoulder and spun me around to face the wall. His large, warm hand gripped my waist, before trailing down my side until he got to the hem of my dress.
Without a word, he flipped it up, exposing my practically bare ass. Sundresses required thongs.
There was nothing between my skin and his hand.
CHAPTER 27
STELLA
“This is your last chance, baby girl.” His words were practically growled into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Admit you were watching me, or I will be forced to punish you.”
“I wasn’t…”
A sharp sting radiated from my behind and throughout my entire body.
He hadn’t spanked me, not with his hand.
No, he had a riding crop.
The little bit of leather did not really leave any damage, but the sharp pain was still undeniable. I tried to stop my cry by pressing my lips together, but it didn’t work.
He whipped me again, and with each impact, a yelp escaped my lips.
“Do not lie to me, little one. Tell me that you were watching me.”
Tears streamed down my face as I said nothing. It wasn’t out of defiance, not really. Each strike from the crop hurt, but then it left a hot, burning sensation on my skin. The sting faded quickly into something more, something better.
Tears streamed down my face, but they felt cathartic.
After a moment, he cropped me again, and this time, my cries of pain sounded more like moans of pleasure. Again and again, over and over, he struck me with the crop, no doubt leaving large red welts all over my behind and my upper thighs.
Then he placed the crop against the cotton of my panties, which had to be soaked by now. He pressed it against me, giving me the most delicious friction.
“Last chance, baby girl.”
“I was watching you. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” The words flew from my lips. I didn’t want to know how the crop would feel against my most sensitive flesh.
“Why? What did watching me do for you?”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
He knew I was lying and gave me a quick but intense slap on my pussy with the crop. I cried out again. It was a million times more intense than the swats on my backside or even on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. But with the increased pain came something else, too.