Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Like an expert, he found a spot to press his thumb into, and everything I had been carrying just fell away. There was nothing else in this world but this room.
There was nothing else but him.
“I’ll take you to your limits, baby,” he continued. “But I want to be sure I don’t take you past them. And when I get in the zone, I tend to get… focused.”
My heart was thundering in my chest. I was in over my head. Way over my head.
“So I need the word if any of this gets to be too much for you,” he explained, voice throaty and so smooth, I wished there was a way to bottle it and drink it.
“This isn’t going to be too much for me,” I blurted. Somehow I was bold enough to maintain eye contact with him. “I have a feeling this is going to be just enough. That you’re just enough.” I said the last part on a whisper because something in Swiss’s eyes changed. There was no longer just pure sexual hunger in there, a mahogany inferno. As I spoke, they softened.
“Fuck,” he whispered, the cuss caressing my skin like poetry. He rested his forehead against mine in a gesture more intimate than what strangers should share. Then again, I was planning on having sex with him.
“I have a feeling you might be too fuckin’ much,” he breathed.
My insides melted.
Melted.
He didn’t kiss me as I expected, as I craved. Didn’t tear my clothes off like an animal, the way his hungry stare communicated. He didn’t do anything. He just stared at me.
I could barely breathe. I swear, my heart paused beathing for the length of that stare. Could’ve sworn that stare lasted a lifetime.
“The safeword,” I whispered.
He blinked, as if I had jerked him out of some kind of reverie. “What?”
“You told me there was a safeword, but you haven’t said it,” I replied. “And I’m really going to need you inside me in the next five minutes, so you better say it.”
The inferno came back into Swiss’s eyes.
“Coconut,” he said. “That’s the safeword. But you’re not gonna use it.” He lifted me up, and my legs instinctively went around his waist.
He was walking us toward the bed. Not that I cared. I was happy to stay wrapped around his waist for the rest of my life.
But then he threw me on the bed, and I stared at him standing there in his leather vest with his rippling muscles, the structure of his jaw, and I decided that lying on this bed looking up at him was pretty darn wonderful too.
“Fair warnin’, baby. I’m not gonna be inside you for a long time yet,” he said, his voice thick. “I plan on you coming at least three times before my dick enters you.”
If humans could spontaneously combust, I was pretty sure that I would’ve done so at that very moment.
As it was, I stayed intact, though impossibly hot.
I moved to take my shirt off because I guessed that was what I was supposed to do in that situation, and because even the cheap, thin fabric was too heavy on my skin.
“Don’t fucking move,” Swiss ordered.
His voice was low, guttural, commanding.
I blinked, my hand pausing midair. The amusement that I’d witnessed earlier was nowhere to be seen. His expression was completely different. Darker. Sinister.
My heart was beating so loud I could barely hear around the roar.
“From now until when I decide, anything you do in this room, you wait until I give you permission to do it. You don’t move an arm, you don’t take off an item of clothing, and you don’t come unless I approve it.” He arched a brow. “You understand me?”
My body thrummed with need. And a little fear. That should’ve been the moment when my past trauma surfaced, when a panic attack started to take control of my body.
But I did not have control of my body.
Swiss did.
And despite my past—or maybe even because of it—I liked that. Loved that. He was a stranger. He could hurt me, yes. But I’d been hurt by a man before. That I could handle. I hadn’t experienced the feeling of excitement and arousal in my blood before. Not once.
And Swiss hadn’t even touched me. Hadn’t even kissed me.
“Do you understand me?” he repeated.
I nodded. “Yes,” I said, my voice husky.
His eyes flickered over me, slowly. “Good,” he murmured.
Then he knelt at my feet.
Knelt at my feet.
Slowly, he pulled off my shoes. His fingers were cool and firm as they rubbed the soles of my feet.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he found some kind of pressure point that I didn’t know existed.
With devastating slowness and reverence, Swiss’s hands rubbed upward, underneath my jeans to my calves.
Then he stood, towering over me as he unbuttoned my jeans. My body was vibrating with need, my blood pumping through my veins white hot.