Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 128097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Next time, I’ll stick my finger in it. I’ll lube it up real nice using your pussy juice. And when I’m kissing you, shoving my tongue down your throat, I’ll finger your ass, Blue. I’ll finger it until you come all over my bed. All over my sheets.”
Our movements are frantic. I’m almost jumping up and down on him, making my tits bounce. Zach’s eyes go from my lips to my eyes to my breasts.
Nothing, nothing at all, has ever made me feel so desirable.
“But then… I-I’ll have to change your sheets.”
Chuckling, he moves to my neck to lick up a drop of sweat. “You’ll do it. I have faith in you. As soon as I’m done with you, you’ll get up and make my bed again. You’ll straighten out your dress, re-braid your hair and walk out of here and no one will know a thing, right?”
I’m so close. So fucking close and he won’t stop talking and I don’t know what to do but to keep moving against him and say yes.
“Yeah, you will. It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“It’s a shame no one will know what a good little maid you are. How dedicated to the job. How you serve me. How you take away my suffering. My pain. No one’ll know that.”
“It’s okay.”
“Nah, I’ll put in a good word for you, baby.” Zach grips my ass hard and pushes back against me and I come.
With his rumbled words in my ears and his dick pressing against my clit, I’m shaking on his lap. Shaking like a leaf in the wind. Or maybe like the ground during an earthquake.
And then, it’s Zach’s turn.
He comes with a groan, his forehead pressing against mine, his breaths covering me in a sweaty, misty film.
He’s juddering against me and I notice the drops of his cum spilled on his stomach, his jeans, in my panties. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Still panting and sweaty, he lowers me on the bed, half-dressed and indecent. From this angle, the sun glares down at me but Zach blocks it with his big body.
He wraps his hand around my neck and growls, “Who are you?”
Even though I have very little energy left, I still arch my back. As if his voice is a call from my master.
“Your prize.”
His fingers flex around my throat in possession and he bends down to smack a hard kiss on my lips. “As long as I’m here.”
I would’ve smiled, because really, I’m happy and I feel cherished.
Only there’s one thing I totally ignored before.
I’m his prize, his most adored possession but only for now.
Only as long as he’s here.
Mine.
My prize.
She is my prize.
She. Is. My prize.
I’m his prize.
I’m someone’s prize. His.
I haven’t stopped smiling ever since he said that yesterday, after he made me come so spectacularly. And then, he straightened up my dress and I washed up in his bathroom, redid my hair and smoothed the wrinkles out of my dress before leaving his room.
Exactly like he told me I’d do.
He’s going to be here any minute. I’m watching the back door at the end of the hallway like it will burst open by itself and he’ll emerge all tall and handsome.
It should scare me that I didn’t even think of it, of someone seeing him getting in and out. I should have.
For all my rule-breaking, this job is important to me. This is the only thing I have that will get me back my house. The place filled with my parents’ memories. I can picture them in the living room, at the island in the kitchen, on the stairs, in the backyard.
In that house, they are alive and I’m not an orphan.
So yeah, I should’ve thought of all the details before inviting him over. But is it crazy that I find it sweet that he thought of them? That he wanted to protect me?
At seven o’ clock, the knock sounds.
He’s here.
I can tell by his knock. It’s loud and short. More like a pound. I rush to the door and throw it open.
Zach’s face is bowed but he lifts his eyes to look at me. I give him a blinding smile.
“You came.”
He takes a few seconds to check me out and my toes curl, his eyes moving up and down. I kinda dressed up for him. Nothing crazy. Just a form-fitting top that shows off my breasts and tiny shorts.
“Well, you did threaten to call the cops on me,” he drawls, bringing his eyes back up to mine. “And fuck up my bike. And no one touches my bike. So here I am.”
I chuckle. “Really? For the bike? Don’t you think you love it a little too much?”
He’s had his bike for nearly as long as I’ve known him. Numerous times, I’d imagine doing something drastic to it just to mess with him. A few times I even came close.