Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Oh, so you’re jealous.” Additional snark slithers through her expression. “I tend to confuse the two when it comes to you.”
He leans his unbuttoned shirt covered shoulder against the frame. “Perhaps I’m simply disgruntled because I wasn’t invited to…” one hand flails around before defiantly falling in front of the dress pants he changed into the second we left Ravencroft’s estate, “whatever this is.”
“Perhaps because you said you wanted to drink alone,” she refutes.
“A polite offering could’ve still been made.”
“And a polite shot still could’ve been saved.”
It’s his turn to let shame slip into his stare.
Huh.
How does she do that?
How does she just…become the apex predator of the apex predator instead of his prey?
“What do you hate more, Counselor?” Another snarky expression slips onto her face. “That I don’t give a fuck about what other people think or that you do?”
He slowly shakes his head in tandem with folding his arms across his chest. “Veo que sigues siendo el pequeño rebelde sin causa de papá.”
“I may be ‘Daddy’s little rebel without an alleged cause’-”
“I thought you didn’t speak Spanish,” escapes in a whisper.
“-but you’re still Corporate Daddy’s little yes man without any balls.”
Rage narrows his glare along with his tone. “Tengo pelotas.”
“Would those be the ones Zero didn’t get to lick earlier?”
Both of our jaws crack open in surprise.
“Is that really why you’re so fucking pissy we’re in bed together? Because he might get his dick sucked again today when you haven’t even busted once?”
Time to decode whether her words were a promise or a threat or simply a mindfuck tactic – that’s fucking with me too – isn’t presented.
No.
The fiery female that even the coldest parts of the ocean couldn’t cool off callously leans closer in his direction and continues to goad, “Your inability to answer my line of questioning – again – counselor, tells me that you haven’t changed. One. Fucking. Bit.”
“Neither have you.”
“Why fuck with perfection?”
An unconscious flash of agreement occurs from me.
“You know,” her approach shifts to one that’s noticeably more menacing, “to be so fucking brilliant in the courtroom, you’re pretty fucking dumb out of it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I could die at those depths during my under the sea moment, Boo Boo over here could get the worst Jellystone treatment possible from literal royalty, and you run a very real probability of being captured by non-Disney approved pirates – who will without a doubt ransom you for around the same amount it took to make that shitty cartoon in the 50s – yet instead of considering any of that shit, instead of letting any of that shit dictate the decisions you’re making for the next couple of weeks, you choose to be steered by the fear that someone you swim in the same circles with will discover that you like cock as much as you like cooch rather than the fear that the cooch and cock you do like may not make it out of this shit alive.”
“Poética,” is airily groused.
“Like a Greek tragedy except they weren’t afraid of celebrating their sexuality.”
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip but doesn’t argue.
Again.
How does she do that shit?!
How does she get him to just…listen?
And she’s not yelling!
Or screaming!
Or flashing her tits to keep his attention!
She’s just…talking.
And he’s just…listening.
There’s so much to fucking learn here.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” challenges the woman I find myself more and more amazed by.
“Tell me you don’t want me in that bed.”
“I don’t.”
There’s no ignoring the disappointment that darts through each of our gazes.
Oh.
Shit.
Is this going to be one of those things where I have to have her or him?
Split screens?
Then again…there technically isn’t a him situation to be splitting.
He’s not interested in me.
Not really.
I’m sure earlier was just…confusion.
Typical eat or be eaten jungle shit.
“What I want…” Salay salaciously begins at the same time she peels her arm off my stomach, “is for you to come stand next to Zero and let him suck your cock while I watch.”
Any ability I had to breathe completely disappears.
“Time to even the score, boys.” Sitting completely upward precedes her adding. “A suck for a suck.”
My head and mouth move in tandem Garcia’s direction, ready to insist otherwise, reassure him I know he was just faking shit earlier, that he really wasn’t into me or it, that the cum on his pants was just an involuntary reaction, when I catch him executing a less than subtle dick adjustment that effortlessly overwrites my planned statement with a filthier one, “Please, Master.”
An animalistic growl reverberates around the small guestroom.
“Please, let your little fuck toy return the favor.”
The soft moaning from the female near me gets immediately overpowered by the groaning and stomping towards me.
“Please, fuck my face the way I fucked yours.”
There’s almost no hesitation to dig his fingers into my cheeks.
To tug at his belt.
To pop open the button.
To rip down his zipper.