Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
His words intensify my fear but pull me closer to him as if seeking his protection.
From him?
Absurd, but it feels reliable.
He’s angry right now, but I’m not truly afraid he would hurt me. Whatever faults he has, I know how much Silvan values me. Even though it feels mildly psychotic to admit this even to myself, I even believe he might love me.
Or at least think he does.
And I know Silvan would protect me from any threat. I know that in my bones.
Maybe that’s why I feel the rush of fear and the familiar tightness in my chest, but it never escalates to a full-blown panic attack. Mere memories can send me into one, but actually being held down, threatened, and used by Silvan doesn’t.
"Now, I'm not going to keep repeating myself, Sophie. I'm going to tell you this once, so I suggest you remember it, because my promise has no expiration date. You belong to me, and I'm an only child, baby; I can't share for shit. If another man ever touches you, I will torture him and make you watch. Depending on how thoroughly you've pissed me off, I might let you leave the room before the grand finale, but know that it would end with me cutting off all the parts of him you might have liked and then standing on his throat as he gurgled his own blood. His last fucking words would be begging me for mercy, and I would not feel one single bit of fucking remorse as I withheld it and watched him die. I would come to you and fuck you with his blood spatter still on my body, so please, Sophie, for your sake, take me seriously. I don't have my father's patience, and I don't want to break you."
His words stir images that make me feel queasy.
I might not believe most guys saying something so crazy, but I believe him.
From that first night when he was dressed up as a Viking, I sensed something authentically brutal in him. It’s not something that’s overbearing most of the time, but it comes awake when he feels threatened.
I’m his prized possession, the thing he’ll defend at all costs. Kill for if he must.
That shouldn’t turn me on, but I can't deny the aching need I feel for him in this moment.
When he pulls his hips back and drives into me again, I gasp, reaching back to grab his neck and pull him closer. He growls with approval, scraping the sensitive skin along the back of my neck with his teeth as he bites me, then kisses me all over. Leaning his face into the curve of my neck, he breathes me in.
“You smell like me,” he whispers, then he licks my skin and his hot tongue ignites my nerve endings, triggering an explosion of white-hot lust in my brain.
His words resonate through my body, that possessive, proprietary tone of his that makes me feel owned. He fucks me harder, and I feel it everywhere. I feel suffocated by him, overwhelmed by him, but it's oddly reassuring.
He’ll never let me leave.
The thought bubbles up in my mind but my senses are too wrapped around him to deal with it, so I shove it away and focus on breathing. My breaths are coming quick and shallow, my heart pounding as he dominates my pussy.
When he yanks my hair to pull my head back, I take his punishing kiss. I don’t realize how close I am until he tears his lips from mine, grips my throat tight, and growls, “Come for me, baby.”
Pleasure explodes as he continues to ram my pussy, dragging out the pleasure as I cry out, my pussy spasming and clenching around his cock. His greedy hand roams my body, squeezing my tits as he holds me against him by the throat.
I feel… indescribable.
I feel free.
There’s a constant weight I carry, but I feel none of it now. I’m free as a bird, wings spread, flying on the breeze of sheer bliss.
I feel him still pounding inside me, hear his sounds of strain and groans of pleasure. I want to give it to him. I want him to feel at least a fraction of the pleasure he gave to me.
Rationally, I think he’s dangerous and a little crazy.
But there’s no room for rationality in this bed right now.
I squeeze my pussy muscles tight around him, keeping my ass up the way I know he likes.
He always says sexy things that make the sex more intense for me, but I don’t have the first clue what I could say that would do that for him.
I guess I know what he likes, though. And I know he’s close.
The thought of him coming in my pussy without a condom on again makes me shiver, but it’s the first thing I can think of. He’ll do it whether I tell him to or not, anyway, and my defenses are down from that orgasm, so the invitation just slips out of my mouth.