Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
When I turn back around, she’s standing in front of the closed door, frowning at me. Fear glints in her eyes. Is she afraid I’ll kick her out and turn on her too? People have a habit of doing that to her.
“Lock the door.” My order is gruff and laced with the need thrumming through me. “Please, Love.”
She visibly relaxes at the endearment and nods. The click of the lock is like a gift of permission. Permission of what?
“We’ll find who did this to you,” I assure her, taking several long strides toward her. “I’ll ruin them.”
Her long lashes bat against her cheeks as she stares up at me. I’ve invaded her space, so near to her that I can feel the brush of her breasts against my suit jacket. My dick has fully awoken, straining against my pants, desperate for more of her lovely mouth.
To keep from putting my mouth on her slender, soft neck, I lift my hand and grip it instead. Firm but gentle. It feels as though I’m claiming her as mine. She is mine. My stepdaughter.
Her tongue flicks out and she runs it along her bottom lip, heat flaring in her gaze. “What are you doing?”
“Comforting you,” I rumble, stroking my thumb along her flesh. “Apologizing.”
“Apologizing for what?” she murmurs.
“For leading you on and then avoiding you. Had I acted like a real man and taken you home myself, you wouldn’t have had to deal with that shit on your own.”
Her eyebrows furl together. “I had Spencer.”
My son’s name on her lips chases off the rest of my sanity. I don’t think or obsess or analyze. All I do is lean forward and take. I take a kiss that doesn’t belong to me. I steal it.
She tastes minty like she’s been sucking on a peppermint. I want to nibble on her tongue and lips for hours, discovering new ways to make her whimper. As though tuned into my thoughts, she groans against my mouth. The sound is fucking beautiful and gasoline to the fire raging inside me. I slide a palm to her ass, squeezing it hard.
“Ow,” she yelps. “Fuck.”
I pull back so I can look her in the eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
Her face burns bright red. “Uh, no. It’s nothing.”
I’m a lawyer and have a good sense of when someone is evading some hidden truth they don’t want discovered. Testing her, I squeeze her ass again, gentler this time. She winces, shooting me a panicked look.
“What happened?” I demand. “Did you fall? Did someone hurt you?”
“Hugo,” she mewls. “Please don’t be mad.”
Rage ignites deep in my gut, churning with jealousy. I know what’s happened and she doesn’t even need to tell me. He did this. My son.
What the fuck?
Homewrecker.
Tony’s choice of word slams into me. I’m unable to keep my anger in check. I glower down at her and demand, “What happened?”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “He spanked me.”
“He did what?” I growl, voice rising several octaves.
“I asked him to,” she breathes. “I’m fucked-up. I’m so sorry.”
Sorry?
She’s sorry for asking my son to whip her ass?
I should be angry with Spencer, but he’s an eighteen-year-old kid. If a beautiful girl—even if she is his sister—begs to be punished, he’d have to be a saint to deny her. Especially after how vulnerable she was yesterday.
“You think because some asshole calls you a slut that you have to be punished?” I ask, scowling at her. “That it’s your fault you’re being harassed?”
“I deserved it,” she whispers, eyes filling with tears.
One tear races down her cheek. I can’t help but run my nose along the wetness and then press a kiss there.
“You’re a good girl,” I murmur against her flesh. “You deserve to be praised and adored.”
“I don’t, though,” she argues. “I needed his belt.”
I pull away and give my head a violent shake. She yelps when I grab onto her wrist, jerking her toward my desk. Her eyes flare with heat, anticipation dancing in them.
“Are you going to spank me too?”
I smirk as I slide my palms down the sides of her thighs until I reach the hem. Then, I drag the material back up her thighs, loving the hitch of her breath. I tug it up over her ass and bunch it up at her waist. Stepping back, I take a second to appreciate the angel before me.
She doesn’t deserve to be punished.
She deserves to be worshipped.
I lift her by her waist and gently sit her on the edge of my desk, taking care not to hurt her sore ass.
“Lie back, Love. Let me show you how good I think you are.”
Her teeth bite into her bottom lip as she obeys me. She bores her gaze into me, tense with anticipation of what happens next.
What happens next is I pray to this gorgeous goddess.