Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
The battering in my chest is a war drum. “Yes, sir,” I answer without hesitation. “I will not do it again.”
The desperation for him to reward me, to believe me, not to punish me by denying me this is far too much, far too quickly, is practically palpable. I want him more than I’d ever admit.
A chill meets my backside as he moves away and his grip loosens. For a moment I fear he’ll leave me like this, still gasping for breath and wanting. My apprehension vanishes when he pushes his fingers inside of me, curling them and stroking the front wall of my pussy while his thumb brushes against my clit.
My words are unintelligible as I drop my face into the pillow.
His touch is ruthless, and draws out a deep need that’s been hidden for far too long.
He finger fucks me until I’m a puddle beneath him, sated and breathless.
I stay as I am, my ass in the air with my dress hiked up and the fabric bunched around my waist after my second release.
The idea of him fucking me consumes my conscience, but he doesn’t.
His touch is gentle as he positions me to sit upright. He tells me once again how well I did, then kisses the curve of my neck. My nipples pebble and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Wait here. I have to take care of the cameras for a moment. Then I will hold you and we’ll discuss how you’ll behave in my absence.”
“Hmm?” I question although I have no words and all I can manage is the hmm.
“I’ll detail how I want you to fuck yourself and what must happen for you to touch yourself at all when I’m not here.
“We are not done, little bird. We have only just started.”
Zander
Necessary supervision and adjustments to supervision will be a constant endeavor of The Firm. The client’s safety and well-being will always be our top priority.
The autumn night has fallen over the motel, leaving a trail of burgundy and pinks on the horizon. That’s my cue to go back to Ella. I had to force myself to sleep during the day. My overactive mind resisted the pull of the pills. It only wanted her. Planning every detail, reviewing potential lines for the next scene. With my muscles coiled, and my imagination going over every possibility, I hardly slept at all.
My body fought again sleep as much as my mind did. My cock wanted Ella, yes, but so did every inch of me. Every last one. Thinking of her sweet lips and her dark eyes lends itself to a strain I’m eager to explore. It pulls everything into a neat, pulsing tension.
Punishing her will have to be enough. Giving her this release will have to be enough, no matter how badly I want to fuck her. No matter how badly I want her to be mine in every way. It’ll have to be enough because these are the boundaries we’ve drawn. Her life. My job. Those are the circumstances, and part of the challenge is finding a way for it to work so that—
My head spins with the recurring memories.
Fuck. I don’t want this challenge. I want to have her under my hands and in my bed, and I can’t.
Tugging my polo shirt over my head, I grab the file Silas sent over, tucked into a plain manila folder. It’s about Kamden, and it’s slim. Too slim. I take it with me on the way out to the car and page through it. Kamden has a squeaky-clean reputation. Absolutely nothing has ever been flagged about him in any database anywhere. Silas told me I’d be disappointed if I was looking for something, because there was nothing.
Something’s not right with her conservator. It’s obvious in the way he guards himself with her, in his language and tone. He’s hiding something and I don’t like it. I take another set of four measured breaths and put aside my own misgivings about Kam. Even if I liked him, a completely empty file would be suspicious. Ella’s got enough of a past to warrant things appearing on a background check. Kam is with her all the time. One of them has a record, and one of them doesn’t?
I pull open the driver side door and toss the file onto the passenger side seat, then climb in. The outskirts of town give way to tree-lined streets. Leaves come down and flutter against the windshield like the feathers of little birds.
My little bird is waiting for me in her elegant, modern cage.
If I’m honest with myself, that’s what it is—a spacious, comfortable cage. I’ve never thought about it in quite those terms before, but now I do. I follow the winding road toward the wealthy part of the suburbs where Ella lives tucked away in the mountains, and let myself consider her dilemma. She needs a cage. That much is clear. Only the house is too sprawling. Not intimate enough. The cage she needs is me. The bounds of our agreement.