Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"So that’s how you want it??" I growl.
"Mmm." She nods. "This is my first time, remember.”
"Then obey your Don and strip. Completely."
She rises and turns toward me. Our hands move frantically. I tear away my shirt and kick off my remaining clothes. She discards her pants. The movement causing her breasts to sway enticingly.
I take her shoulders and guide her to the bed. She falls back, gazing up at me.
"You look so primal," she murmurs.
"Primal?" I echo.
"Like a wild animal. As if you've been caged. Like you've been waiting."
"I have," I snarl. "Caged for too damned long, waiting for my perfect painter to come along and show me what it means to crave dominance. Open your thick, gorgeous legs for me."
She complies as I position myself over her. My tip brushes her inner thigh, making her shiver.
"You look both nervous and anticipatory. In equal measure."
“Maybe I am a little nervous," she admits. "But I'm ready. I've been ready since our night at the putt-putt place."
“Are you ready to be mine? To be claimed."
"Hmm." She moans as she nods. "You're the boss, Don Moretti."
"You're making me even harder. Reach down, grab my shaft, guide me to your virgin slit."
She slides her hand between our bodies, then wraps her fingers around my base. A shiver of intense desire ripples through me as she directs my tip to her sex, teasing it across her clit. Her eyelids flutter.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
"Maybe," she whimpers.
"Without my permission?"
She smiles. She relishes when I boss her around. I reach down, grasp her wrist, then guide it over her head. I take her other wrist so that I'm restraining both in mine, pinning them firmly.
"You own me," she whispers, deliberately provoking me. "I'm yours."
Securing her wrists with one hand, I grip my throbbing shaft with the other and position myself at her entrance.
She moans when I press against her tunnel, her tightness constricting around me, yielding slightly as I rock back and forth.
"You're ready," I groan. "You want this, Vignette. You've craved this since our first kiss. You wanted this the night I drove you home. You want this as desperately as I do."
Chapter Eighteen
Sienna
There's something intoxicatingly erotic about him restraining my arms above my head. I never would have anticipated feeling this way before experiencing it, but when he spanked me, I realized this power dynamic would become our jam.
He craves control, ownership. Typically, I'd recoil at the notion of someone possessing me, but with Nico, everything feels different. I love driving him wild... the more untamed he becomes, the more intense my responses grow.
He gazes down at me with such fervent passion that I half-expect steam to rise from his skin. He supports himself with his free hand– the other pinning me in place.
Simultaneously, he rocks against my entrance. His tip presses into me, stretching me open... then tantalizingly pulling away. Soon, my core is aching for him, warm waves of anticipation flooding through me.
"You don't just want this," he growls. "You need this."
His phrasing these as declarations rather than questions heightens my sense of surrender. That's precisely what this represents. For years, I've lived fiercely independently, stubbornly insisting I don’t need anyone...
But I need this. He's right.
Finally, he eases himself into me. I've never experienced anything like it. It’s entirely different from his tongue when he was thrusting that inside me. This is a deeper level of connection, and his cock feels big.
He stretches my lips as he glides deeper, causing only a little discomfort. I'm too aroused to truly register it. Manly, his cock radiates heat, sending electric pulses through me, my walls gripping him tightly as he thrust deeper.
The most arousing thing is his expression of absolute obsession. He’s in physical control, my hands pinned, my body becoming his canvas to do with as he pleases. Yet the power dynamic transcends that.
As he sinks completely inside, holding himself there, I recognize I mean something to him. Perhaps this might seem foolish when my body isn't consumed by our passion, but here, now, fusing with him, we matter.
He slips out, then plunges back in. His manhood presses against my walls, igniting every inch with sexual energy. Each subsequent thrust makes me feel poised on the precipice of another orgasm.
I moan instinctively, without inhibition. His expression embodies pure desire. Pure obsession. He gazes into my eyes like the timeless cliché, as though lost within them. With him, it feels genuine rather than cheesy. I stare back and lose myself equally in him.
Our pace quickens. After a minute– or more, or less, time is distorted – I rock my hips in rhythm with his. He groans approvingly. But words elude us both now. We can only communicate through moans and primal sounds of pleasure.
I adjust my hips again. His cock, impossibly hard, drives into me at the perfect angle. It glides upward, electrifying my sex with each intimate inch, until his massive tip presses against a pleasure point, I've never discovered before.