Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
I’m so close, my body climbing that high that is right there…but shoves his hips forward one last time, and he pulses inside of me, filling my pussy with his cum. I didn’t get to. Again, it’s not something I earned. I’m sure he just wants me to feel him dripping out of me while we sit at dinner.
Pulling out, he lets go of me, and I drop my cheek to the cool surface of the countertop, trying to catch my breath.
He pulls up his jeans. “Your outfit is on the bed.”
I push myself up and slowly stand to turn and face him. “You picked out my outfit?” I’m not surprised. Like I said, I’m a doll to him. Something to show off to the town.
He doesn’t answer and I walk out of the bathroom to the bedroom to find a dress, underwear, and heels laid out for me. y brother’s words come to mind. At least he has good taste. But of course, he was talking about the other guy I was supposed to marry.
NINETEEN
TYSON
She sits next to me in my car, wearing the red dress I picked out for her along with matching six-inch Gucci heels. The butt plug in while my cum coats her black lace thong. The wedding ring and collar top off the look that screams MINE.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye, noticing the way she keeps moving in the seat. The butt plug doing what I wanted it to do—turn her on. Her cunt was soaked when I fucked her in the bathroom. Even now, she keeps running her hands up and down her bare thighs. She’s silently begging to get off. To get a release that I’m going to make her earn.
She sits up straighter when she sees me pulling up to our destination. “Do we have a room?” she asks, her breathing picking up.
“No,” I answer honestly. “We’ll only be here for an hour.” Less, if I have my way.
I come to a stop, and a guy opens my car door while another opens hers and helps her out. “Have a good evening, Mr. Crawford,” one says as I take her hand and pull her up the stairs and into the Minson Hotel. We ride the elevator up to the twentieth floor and step out into Marble, the elite restaurant, that overlooks the city.
“Hello, Mr. Crawford. Your party is already seated. Please follow me.” The blonde smiles at me brightly, completely ignoring the fact that I’m here with a woman.
“Party?” my wife whisper-shouts in my ear. “Who the fuck are we meeting for dinner, Tyson?”
I ignore her and follow the hostess to the back room. We’re not here for an audience. Well, none other than who I have called to join us.
The hostess opens the double doors and steps aside to allow us to enter the dimly lit room. “Here you go, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford.”
Lake stops, and a small gasp escapes her red-painted lips when she sees who we’re dining with tonight.
The man stands from his chair and clears his throat. “Laikyn, Tyson.” He nods to us, but I see the sharpness in his tight jaw. He doesn’t want to be here, but he also couldn’t turn down my request to meet us for dinner. I’m pretty sure he just agreed to have proof she isn’t dead yet.
“Dad,” she whispers. “Mom.”
Her mother rolls her eyes and then throws back most of the wine in her glass. She also didn’t have a choice to be here. Like her daughter, her husband informed her she’ll attend. My father-in-law refusing my request to dine at his hotel would make him look foolish. And Mr. Minson is anything but a fool.
“I’ll let your server know you’ve arrived,” the hostess states, exiting the private room. She closes the tinted black glass double doors at her departure, silencing the chatter in the main part of the restaurant.
I help my wife over to the table and pull out a chair for her to sit in. I take the one next to her while we both face her parents. A silence lingers over the room, and I feel for the object in the pocket of my dress slacks. It’s the icing on the cake for tonight.
The double doors open, and our server arrives, approaching the table. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Minson. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. What can I get you all to drink tonight?”
“Scotch.” Her father answers first.
“Bring me a bottle.” Her mother speaks, lifting her now empty wine glass. She’s obviously had a head start.
“Of course. For you, Mrs. Crawford?” He looks at Laikyn.
She swallows nervously. “I’ll take a glass of what she’s having.” She nods to her mom.
The server looks at me. “She’ll have a water, and I’ll take a whiskey—neat,” I inform him.