Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Do you know why you’re here?” Dion asks, and I wince from the connection of his soft lips at the side of my neck. I feel it tingle right down to my toes, before spreading inside my belly. “Want me to show you?”
I nod, even though I know that this could be bait. Bait to see if I’d break, bait to see if I’d run. All I want to do is get off this island, so if doing as I’m told is the fastest way to do that, then shove a gag in my mouth and call me a sub.
His fingers slide down my bare belly, and the tiny hairs on my skin stand to life. He pauses, as if surprised, before he continues down. He stops above my bikini line, dragging the base of his thumb over the band, before dipping beneath.
“Do you want me to carry on?” he asks, and his voice is so lazy and thick, it kind of reminds me of when he sings, or raps, or whatever other genre he’s messing with this week.
“No,” I weep, and then want to slap myself with how weak I sounded. My back arches, pushing my ass between his legs. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
He chuckles, widening his stance and spreading his fingers out over my lower belly, his pinkie skimming over my smooth pussy and tapping my clit. “Gonna pretend like we haven’t done this same song and dance, pretty girl?”
“Oh.” I grind my teeth. “Pretty girl, now? Pretty sure just—”
His finger slides between my folds and slips inside of me. A light moan slips out of my mouth, and I crash against his chest as he tightens his grip around my waist. If I can’t see him, I can pretend he’s someone else. Anyone else. Only there’s no one else when he’s touching me the way he is. At least…not right now in this moment.
I close my eyes, and he snaps my earlobe between his teeth. “Open your legs. Or I’ll do it for you.” Curling his finger slowly, I gasp when he presses against my pressure spot. “You want this, Shi?”
I shake my head, nibbling on my lower lip to stop myself from slipping. “No. The answer is no.”
He chuckles so dark that it sends shivers down my spine. “Good. You know what happens when a guy like me gets everything he’s ever wanted in life?”
When I don’t answer and my hips buck forward to chase friction, his other hand comes to the front of my throat, and he squeezes slightly.
“I get a hard dick from taking shit without permission.”
He’s in front of me in a flash, his hand still down my bikini as he backs me up against a tree trunk. His jeans hang dangerously low, the top button undone and his chest on display in front of me. The small placement tattoos that litter his skin somehow work for him, and when my head collides with the bark from the tree, he lowers down onto his knees, lifts my leg over his shoulder, and covers my pussy with his mouth.
“Look at me, Shi,” Dion growls over my clit, his tongue teasing my entrance. “Remember my mouth on your pussy next time you hear my songs play. Now—be a good girl and watch the window for me, yeah?”
I have no idea what the fuck he’s playing at, but my hands find his hair and I push myself into his mouth. His tongue dances over my clit softly before he drags it over and over and over until my legs shake and my knees turn to Jell-O. My stomach coils like hot wire threatening to ignite as I feel myself chasing the high of my orgasm. The flames from the fire continue to dance against the walls, and every now and then, I see the outline of a shadow move through the sitting room. He presses harder and my toes curl. Sparrow watches from the corner, covering his mouth with his hand. I have to blink past the intensity of his stare because it has a direct line to every single emotion inside my body.
Dion slaps my ass from between my legs, and it’s not until the warmth of his mouth is replaced with the cool air that I look down at him, ready to throw hands.
“Keep your eyes on the cabin. Fuck Sparrow. I mean…”
He smirks up at me from below, and I swear to God I need to force my thighs closed from combusting right here. Dion is classically handsome in a way that is almost too pretty. He has the edge from all the tattoos and piercings, but if you see past them, he’s a pretty boy playing God.
“You can do that later.”
His mouth is back on me, and I groan, my hand finding his hair again, forcing my foot into his back. I can feel the build of my orgasm growing inside of me like weeds in a garden, and when I’ve finally reached the top, with sweat sliding down my temples and heavy breathing, my orgasm crashes into me so viciously I find myself looking back at the window, and there, staring back at me, is a woman. A rope tied around her throat as she hangs from the sitting room, her face purple and eyes black.