Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Why do you have a locked room?” I find myself asking, my curiosity getting the better of me. I also want to change the subject from Josh.
Vance studies me, making me squirm. “It’s where we keep our toys, we don’t want the housekeeper having to touch that stuff.”
My stomach flips at that statement. A whole room for sex toys? I had a small bullet that I kept hidden in a Tampax box. “Can I see?”
“Nope.” He flashes me his teeth, and I suddenly want them in my neck, feeding on me like a vampire. “It would ruin the surprises we have for you if we let you in there.”
Anticipation for those surprises tingles in my veins, I like not knowing. “Where is Tristan?” I ask, looking around the room, my tone a little husky.
“He went to collect a delivery from the front desk.”
“They don’t bring them up?” I’d be shocked if they didn’t, considering how lavish this place is. In regard to luxury, it rivals the hotel’s penthouse. It must cost a small fortune to live in a place like this.
“They do.” He licks his lips, watching my mouth as I take a bite of the toast. “If he requests them to, but he didn’t want anyone seeing you.”
Looking away from him, my stomach churns. Is he embarrassed by me?
Studying me with a tilted head, Vance swipes his thumb to my cupid bow, capturing some butter collecting there then sucking the pad into his mouth. “Tristan only likes to share with me.” His gaze drags down my form. “Any man seeing you freshly fucked, wearing no panties, is a fuse we don’t want detonated.”
My mouth parts, and I blink a couple of times before replying. “You think he would get jealous?”
“I don’t think, Angel.”
I don’t know what to make of that. I always thought Josh was too preoccupied to worry about other men finding me attractive, but now I know he never really wanted me that way himself. I wonder what he’d say if I told him about Tristan and Vance. Part of me wants to tell him just to be spiteful, not that he would care truly. It’s so obvious, now that I’ve been with Tristan and Vance. Their desire for me is in every action, movement, each spoken word. It’s impossible to not feel wanted around them. I just wish Josh could’ve been honest with me instead of wasting years of my life.
“Thank you for always feeding me.” I nudge Vance with my knee, and he rewards me with a dazzling smile.
“I like feeding you.” Somehow, his words come out sounding sexy, his seductive tone landing straight between my legs.
Surely, it’s not natural to be this turned-on after already being thoroughly fucked nonstop for hours on end.
“You’re blushing, Angel. What’s going on in there?” He taps a finger to my temple, an appreciative, hoarse sound rumbling in the back of his throat.
“I was thinking maybe I want to feed you,” I reply, my voice thick with lust.
Vance stands, his lips curling at one side and his pupils growing wide.
Leaning over my chair from behind, he takes the toast from my hand and tosses it on the plate before he grasps the hem of my shirt and slowly raises it up my torso, his mouth at my ear, hot air wisping against the lobe when he says, “Such a needy little slut, our Angel is.”
My pussy aches, arousal leaking from me, dampening the seat. With my tits exposed, the temperature change has my nipples pebbling to hard little stones.
I raise my arms so he can lift the T-shirt over my head, but instead, he feeds each arm out, leaving the material bunched at my throat. Gathering the fabric, he twists until it tightens around my neck, my stomach clenching and thighs squeezing together as my air becomes restricted.
Anticipation strangles my lungs as he loops the extra fabric around the back of the chair, tying it so I’m bound. Goosebumps raise across my flesh when he reaches for the chair legs, scraping them across the floor until my chair is facing him.
My naked body trembles as my head is forced into a tilted position, no longer able to move it without completely cutting off my air. I grip the sides of the chair, my mouth going desert dry as I watch him drop to his knees and roughly shove my thighs to part them. Curling his arms under my knees, he tugs me forward until I’m balancing precariously on the edge, lust mixed with trepidation has my breaths coming in short, needy puffs as the fabric around my throat pulls taut.
Watching me between dark lashes, I spasm as his thick, warm tongue swipes up my folds. “You taste of Tristan, Angel,” he groans, twirling his tongue around my sore, needy hole before prodding inside. “He fucked you so good, you’re all swollen.”