Texting My Guardian Angel Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
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That’s partly true. It’s also true that his husky, deep voice sends shimmers down my spine. It’s also true that this is going to be easier without having to speak.

Sure, he replies.

How did it go? I ask.

We freed thirteen people. Five men are going to jail. I’d say we did well. How have things been with you?

Oh, you know, pretty good. Except I’ve been waiting for a chance to use these.

I reach under the bed and take out the handcuffs I bought at the novelty store down the road from my work. When I shake them back and forth, they make a metallic noise, clanging together.

Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, Katy.

Placing the cuffs down, I respond. I want to do this. I want to give you control like you said, but will you come and take it, Sam? I won’t be able to text back now.

I’m not naked like he asked. I can’t risk that until I’ve seen him in the flesh, but I lie on the bed. Reaching down, I put one pair of cuffs around my ankle, attached to the bed, then the other. Leaning up, I do one hand, then fumble with the last.

None of them make a clicking noise. What if he isn’t the man from the photo, my Sam? What if this is the world’s most elaborate catfish?

My phone vibrates, but I don’t look at it. A moment later, his husky voice comes across the console. “You crazy, horny virgin. I’m on my way.”

“Better be quiet,” I whisper.

I close my eyes, wondering what I’ll do when I hear the door creak open. I think about the TV show earlier, the con man, and wonder how I’ll react if Sam isn’t who I think he is. Will I spring up and run? Will I fight? Maybe it will be too late then.

My thoughts turn toward the idea of my Sam walking in. Hard, just like in the naked photo, his abs a solid pack of muscle, his chest two giant globes of rock-solid power. His manhood’s so big, the end bulging and glistening with precome.

My breathing gets faster as I wait for the door to make a noise. I’ll sit up and see that glint in his eyes and the tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re mine,” he’ll tell me gruffly. “Only mine. You belong to me forever.”

I almost slide my hand between my legs, touch my hot clit, and relieve the tension that’s been building for days, but he might still be watching. He has to believe I’m cuffed to the bed. It’s what my man wants.

CHAPTER 17

Sam

If I thought the time away would make me want her less, I was dead wrong. The second I saw her lying in bed—especially when she revealed the handcuffs—the lust slammed into me. I’ve kept it somewhat at bay, focused on the mission, but that’s over now.

The bad guys are in jail. Am I a bad guy, I wonder, as I drive through the night, surging across the city toward Katy’s apartment building? I already think of it as hers, but I’d much rather it was ours. Or better yet, a house in the countryside with tall walls and lots of space for our family to grow. Lots of privacy for us to do anything we want.

My member is pushing against my pants, making it seem unreal that I spent the last three days on an op. It made me want her more. Just like with the gym, how she pushed me to lift more, the thought of her drove me on, especially when I saw the victims. I mentally pulled Katy into their place and then our future children. It made me want to bring it into reality.

No, calm down. This is a bit of fun and steaminess. She may be a virgin, but this is the modern era. When I claim her, it will be a physical statement of my ownership. Her generation probably doesn’t see it that way.

That should stop me. The phrase her generation. She’s too young, but as I drive, I don’t give a damn about any of that. I feel like Jackal when he’s primed for a mission, taut and ready to snap into action. My balls pulse, almost like my seed is sending me a message. This is crazy thinking, but it’s there.

Claim her. Claim her. Claim her.

It’s like a text message written by a madman.

What will I say if Angela or Eli find me stalking down the hallway? What’s my excuse going to be? Luckily, I can move quietly, and these floorboards whine far less than the places I usually sneak.

I move down the hallway, pausing outside her room, my heart thudding against my chest. This is my last chance to turn back. Over photos, I can somehow contain it, but…


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