Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
His body became a piston, flexing and jerking as he found his release. The next thrust sent a shock wave down his thighs. He pulled out then sank deeply, his hands shaking as he shouted to the ceiling. “Fuuuuuck!”
Salty come shot down her throat, and his cock slid free from her lips. She vibrated with a full-body shiver, her lips tingling with his taste and her pussy aching to be touched, filled, pounded.
It had been twelve years since she’d taken him in her mouth. She struggled to make sense of the man staring down at her while her mind clung to the boy who used to guide her lips to him, slowly ease his girth in and out, and encourage her with softly whispered words. The boy who never orgasmed without seeing to her pleasure first.
Now he simply stared down at her as her ass throbbed and her thighs lit with pain, with no relief in sight.
He kicked off his shoes and made fast work of stripping his bloody clothes. Fully nude and partially erect, he removed her cuffs, unlocked the chain from the collar, and lifted her off the floor.
Cradled against the damp skin on his chest, she let her head loll against his shoulder. Every shift against him made the welts on her thighs throb with heat. She couldn’t bring herself to do anything but droop in his arms.
He carried her into the bathroom and set her on the toilet. Her bladder released immediately, and a wave of vertigo sent her canting sideways.
His hands caught her shoulders, his broad body crouching in front of her. “You need to eat.”
“I need anslers…answers. Shit, I’m slurring.” She couldn’t make her mind work, every part of her over-stimulated. Lost to sensations.
“It’s the intensity of the pain.” Something slipped behind his eyes, there and gone before she could identify it. He scratched at the blood on his neck. “The adrenaline burns off quickly, but the endorphins linger, creating a crash.”
Rage powered through her spent muscles. “How many torture sessions did it take for you to learn that?”
He stared her down as if trying to frighten her. She wanted to smack that look right off his fucking face, but she couldn’t summon the strength. So she stared right back, despite the tremble in her chin.
Rather than giving her time to wipe and flush, he scooped her off the toilet and stood her on her feet in the shower.
Soap in hand, he scrubbed them both with clinical efficiency, his expression tight with concentration.
She leaned against his chest, hating that she needed his support to stand, but the floor was tilting. The room darkened. Too dark. She couldn’t see. She didn’t care.
A towel wrapped around her, then his arms, and she floated.
She must’ve passed out, because her eyes blinked open to a fully-dressed Matias. He wore a charcoal suit and a gold button-up that he’d left open at the neck. His dry hair spiked in chaotic strands that fell over his brow.
Lying face up on the bed, she was dressed, too…partly. A stiff, silver corset strangled her torso, and lacy black panties rode high on her ass. She looked around the room. Where were the rest of her clothes?
“I need you to get through the next few hours.” His hands slid over her thighs, working a glob of ointment into the cuts.
Dread simmered in her empty stomach. “What’s the next few hours?”
“Dinner.” He capped the tube of ointment and grabbed her hand, guiding her to the full-length mirror propped in the corner.
“Dinner with who? Where? What am I supposed to wear?” She met his eyes in the mirror.
Standing behind her, he combed fingers through her hair, arranging the length to fall in waves around her shoulders. She’d always considered her hair black, but even semi-damp, it wasn’t as dark as his. Same for her complexion. By no means was she pale, but she looked straight-up white next to him.
His frame dwarfed her, twice as wide and a head taller, and now she knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that strength. As if his size wasn’t intimidating enough, the way he raked his sharp focus over her reflection made her want to retreat to the floor in a fetal position.
He’d shown up in her life out of nowhere, beaten her without purpose, fucked her mouth, then tended to her. He was either pathologically insane or there was something else here at play. Was he putting on an act for someone? For Nico? Or for whoever was on the other side of that camera lens? What was their hold over Matias, and how could she use that to her advantage?
She glanced down at the rows of cuts reddening her thighs. He’d hurt her ruthlessly, callously, but she’d endured the same in Van’s attic. It was the slew of unanswered questions that scared her the most, and her mind raced to dissect the last twenty-four hours. But she narrowed her focus to the topic that mattered.