Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Good God. Her voice. Those words.
Make me yours. Please.
A flurry of rage overcomes me, and I roar out loud as I pull as hard as I can with my left arm, pushing through the pain as it almost breaks my arm.
CLINK!
The screws break loose from the wall on one side, releasing my arm. And even though the metal is still attached to my wrist, my focus is solely on her.
And I bring my hand to her head, gently caressing her cheek for a second before I grab a fistful of her black hair and shove her mouth over my entire length and into my balls.
A massive moan rolls off my tongue as I bury myself inside her and come hard and fast, squirting my cum all over her throat.
She’s gasping for air, but I don’t relent, pulling out only to shove her right back on again, filling her to the brim.
When I’m finally satiated, my cum dribbles out of her mouth as she coughs and heaves.
But instead of letting it drop onto the floor, she catches it with her hands, brings it to her mouth, and licks it up.
All of it.
And fuck me, there is nothing that could make me want to break free from these chains faster than this woman when she’s in heat.
“You undo me,” I murmur, my heart and lungs still in overdrive. “If this is how I could die, I would lay down my life in a second.”
She giggles and presses soft kisses all around my cock, as though she’s dying for another taste, making me grow hard all over.
I wonder if she knows what she does to me.
If it’s the reason she chose to do this.
I grab her face and tilt her chin to force her to look at me. “You wanted me to free myself.”
When a blush creeps onto her cheeks, it’s all I need to confirm my suspicions.
“I don’t want to use you,” she says. “But I want you to use me.”
My cock hardens again just from those simple words.
Use her. Just like I wanted to back when she first came into my lair.
But this time … It’s not just to release the pent-up desire.
It’s to break free of these chains, these walls that surround us.
“You’ve done it before,” she mutters. “When I called your name, told you to fight … you did. You made it happen.” Her eyes tear up. “I don’t want you to suffer, to be in pain. I want you to be as free as I was. Even if only for a little while.”
My fist balls. “But it cost you everything.”
Tears run down her cheeks, but I wipe them away with my thumb. “I don’t care what it costs me anymore,” she says, and she steps away. “If I don’t have the strength to free you …” she mutters as she tugs at the button of her black suit trousers and slowly pulls it down along with her panties until the naked, flushed skin of her pussy is exposed.
And my tongue darts out to wet my lips in response, eager, no, dying, for a taste.
But when I reach, the other metal clasps around my wrist and ankles hold me back.
“Then I will make you have the strength to free yourself,” she adds.
Her fingers slide down her body, right between her crevice, the very place I would kill to touch right now. Just to ease the pain and claim what’s mine.
But I can’t.
I physically can’t reach her, and she knows it drives me insane.
And when she starts playing with herself right in front of me, I turn back into that raging, animalistic beast I once was, groaning with frustration.
“I’ve never touched myself before,” she murmurs, biting her lip, doubt lacing her eyes. “But I will … for you.”
Oh God.
The mere sight of her standing there with quivering legs, begging for a release, makes me moan out loud.
“Don’t do this to me, Aurora,” I growl, panting with arousal as she splays her pussy and rolls her finger over her clit.
“I have to,” she says, her fingers happily diving between her legs. “But I wish more than anything that you would do it.”
Her cheeks grow redder and redder as she toys with herself, sinking deep into her own flesh.
My free hand instinctively reaches for her like a beggar tempted by food. I’ve experienced torture before, but no amount of pain, physical or mental, could come close to not being able to touch my woman.
“I know you can do it,” she says, staring me in the eyes while playing with herself. “You’ve done it before.”
I pull and tug at the chains as hard as I can, but to no avail. The nails are fiercely embedded into the wall, and my legs almost break from the pressure alone.
“God, I feel so dirty,” she murmurs. “I wasn’t ever allowed to do this. But it feels … so … good.” Her mouth forms an o-shape when she sticks a finger inside.