Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I turned my attention to him with my brow cocked. “Amused, are we?”
“A bit.”
“You’re mine tonight,” I murmured. I was a bit surprised how fiercely that possessiveness had taken me by the throat but I chose not to dwell on it. “They can look, but they don’t touch.”
“Whatever you say, Mistress.”
“Keep calling me that and I’m going to test that sex slave fantasy of yours.”
“Promise?”
I smirked, pinching his ribs. “Behave.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I rolled my eyes, but when my gaze settled on Carter again, he was looking at me with reverence. His eyes flitted between mine, his brows subtly folding together.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
My heart fluttered.
And then I surprised myself when I responded with, “Then ask.”
Carter stilled beneath me, but he paused only a moment before he was pulling me into him, sweeping my hair back, sliding that hand in to cradle my neck.
“May I kiss you?”
A simple nod was his only answer, and then his lips were on mine.
It was a starved kiss, one of a man denied for too long. He inhaled at the contact, brows pinching together more as he pulled me into him like he couldn’t get me close enough.
And I gave in, too. For one moment, I let myself not think about the consequences. I let myself play into the night and pretend it was all fun and games.
I let him kiss me.
And I kissed him back.
And God, it felt good.
“Come with me,” I said, pulling back and pressing my forehead to his.
He snuck one more kiss before asking, “Where?”
I stood, taking his hand in mine and dragging him up out of his chair as I answered.
“To a private room.”
Universe Speaking
Carter
The only other time my heart beat this fast and hard was in a playoff game.
When everything was on the line, when every second counted, when I had no choice but to perform at my highest level — that was the only thing I had to compare this feeling to.
I felt that same adrenaline pumping through me as Livia led me through the house, her hand wrapped around mine, the perfect curves of her ass and the gorgeous muscles of her back guiding me.
We passed by plenty of sexual scenes that should have had my head turning. It seemed as the night progressed, the crowd surrendered more and more to their kinks. No one was shy or bashful anymore. Everyone was giving in to their deepest, darkest desires — or watching someone submit to theirs.
But none of it was alluring enough for me to take my eyes off Livia.
I studied every lean slope and smooth patch of skin on her body, marveling at the fact that she was holding onto my hand proudly as she dragged me through the house.
She’d told that other patron that she couldn’t touch me. She’d practically fucking growled, had climbed into my lap like I was her property.
And I wanted to be.
God, I’d never wanted anything so fiercely in my life — not even the Cup.
I was turned on, yes. That was a fucking no-brainer. She’d already made me come once tonight, and the fact that we were on our way to a private room told me the night wasn’t close to over.
But it wasn’t that simple fact that made me want to let her own me in every way a man can be possessed.
It was that she saw me.
She fucking saw me, the real me, the version of me at his most vulnerable, and she didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease me. She… she fucking heard every word I couldn’t even say.
She brought me here tonight to please me, but she also brought me to show me something not even my therapist could help me grasp.
That it was okay to fail.
That there was no shame in trying.
That there were no consequences for voicing what I wanted.
Right now, my brain was too hardwired on the way her body looked wrapped in lace to think too hard about what this night would unlock for me, but I knew it without even fully understanding it.
I could feel it, like a puzzle piece snapping into place in the depths of my being.
She’d healed a part of me tonight.
We wandered through the mansion and upstairs, twisting through dark hallways until Livia pushed through a large wooden door to an empty bedroom. She locked it behind us, releasing my hand to take in the scene.
The air was warm, heat spilling from a sleek, modern fireplace built into the far wall, its flames throwing soft, amber light across everything it touched. In that glow, the king-size bed dominated the center — draped in rich black sheets with a headboard padded in deep charcoal leather.
A play swing hung from a thick beam near the corner, the straps black and gleaming. Beside it sat a low, cushioned bench made of dark wood.