Dirty Husband Read online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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Giving him what's his.

"Bad girl." His voice drips with approval. "Teasing me."

"You don't like it?" My voice hitches. It's some tone I've never heard before. Some tone I need.

His eyes roam my body slowly. They start at my shoulders, work their way down my chest, stomach, hips, legs.

All the way to my bare feet, then back up. He stops at my sex. Then my breasts.

"You want me to see what's mine?" he asks.

"What's yours?"

"Your body." His voice gets firmer. "It's mine."

"Here."

"Yes. Here." He shifts back into character. Harder. More demanding. "Your body is mine and I'm going to do whatever I want with it."

It should terrify me. Instead, it makes me ache.

"What do you want me to do, princess? Do you want to come on my hand? My face? My cock?" He moves closer. Until he's close enough to place his hand on my cheek.

His fingertips skim my chin. Then they dip lower. Over my neck, along my collarbones, down my breast.

"You want me to come inside you? Or maybe here." He runs his finger over my nipple. "On your perfect tits?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, to what?"

"Everything. All of it." My eyes find his. "Whatever you're willing to give me."

His pupils dilate. His touch gets harder. Hard enough to hurt in the best possible way.

He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then he's drawing slow circles with his thumb. Again and again. Harder and harder.

Until I have to close my eyes.

Until I have to groan.

He slips his other hand into my hair. Cups the back of my head. It's more gentle than I expect. Loving even.

I blink my eyes open. Try to find some meaning in his expression. Some clue to what he's thinking. What he wants. Who he really is—

I don't see the boy I loved. Or the man I hated. Or even something in between.

Instead, I see the wild animal, contained in his tailored suit, waiting to break free.

He hasn't been naked with me. He hasn't had the space to toss me on the bed, pin my knees to the sheets, dive between my legs.

Is that what he wants? Does he want to make me come? Or does he want to use me like I'm some toy that exists only for his pleasure?

The thought shouldn't make me ache, but it does. I want to be his plaything.

"I want to feel you." I look up at him. "I want to wrap my hands around you. Pump you. Take you into my mouth."

His fingers dig into my scalp. "You want to suck me off?"

"Yes, sir." I study his expression. Try to find what he wants. I can't. But that promise, that dare he made… It still sets me on fire. "Please." I arch my back, letting my robe fall off my shoulders. "Please, Shep. Fuck my mouth. Come on me."

His grip tightens.

"I want your cock. I want your cum. I want you. Everything I can get."

Then tighter.

Until I have to moan. "Fuck."

"You don't set the terms." His voice is a growl. "I set the terms."

"Yes, sir. But you did ask."

He almost smiles. "I did."

"I wanted to provide a thorough answer."

"Clever." He draws one more circle around my nipple then he drags his hand back up my neck, over my chin, along my bottom lip. He slips his thumb into my mouth. Nods yes.

I suck on his digit. It's strange, how much I want to suck on his thumb. How good it tastes. How desperate I am for more.

I've always considered myself a generous lover. But I've never craved a man's cock. I've never been desperate to get my lips around him.

"Good girl." He pulls his thumb back. Then he takes a step backward. Just enough to give me room. "On your knees."

I slide off the bed.

"Keep the robe on." He pulls it up my arms, drapes it over my shoulders. "I like you half-undressed."

I nod.

"Next time, I'll have you like that in public."

Fuck.

"Take you to a restaurant with a secluded balcony. Pull your dress aside. Play with your tits until you beg to climb in my lap."

Climbing in his lap, looking into his eyes, being that close—hell yes. I want it so much it scares me.

But he can't promise that. He's very explicitly not promising that. So I'm not going to ask.

This is all he can offer me.

And, right now, this is all I want.

I adjust my robe so it's just barely revealing my breasts. "Yes, sir." I look up at him. "I would like to be on display for you. I would like to be your plaything."

His pupils dilate. Right now, I'm the one who has him where I want him. I'm the one making him react.

Then he knots his hand in my hair and tugs hard enough I forget about making him do anything.

He's the one in control.

I'm the one following his demands.


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