Stealing Cinderella Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
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“Fetch my cock,” he orders, the muscles in his throat working. “Or I’ll get it myself and shove it down your throat.”

His threat spurs me into action, and my fingers shake as they graze the black briefs peeking out from his open zipper. When his heat radiates into my palm, I gasp, and Thorsen groans. It catches me off guard, but when I look up at him, his eyes are liquid pools of fire, and I can see something in them I didn’t before. He wants this. He wants it so badly his whole body is ablaze beneath my touch. It’s something I didn’t expect, and the power is intoxicating.

My fingers curl around the cotton fabric and gradually slip the band down, unveiling his royal manhood. And though I have nothing to compare it to, I’m fairly certain the hulking beast of flesh pointing directly at my face isn’t normal by any standards. As if Thorsen can read my mind, he strokes my hair, gentle again, while he murmurs his only assurance.

“You’ll get used to it.”

I can’t be sure whether it’s curiosity or contempt that has me reaching out to pet the large cock on display. His skin is so soft it surprises me. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this silky flesh wrapped around the steely girth.

“Taste it,” he orders, his voice hoarse.

When I hesitate, he cups the back of my head and urges me forward. I lick my lips, opening them just as his cock bumps against my teeth.

Thorsen tangles his fingers into the long strands of my hair, but to my relief, he gives me room to explore this on my own. I’ve read plenty of Lavinia’s women’s magazines before. There were always quizzes and tips about spicing up the bedroom. But it was more of a form of entertainment than actual study for me, and now, suddenly, I’m aware that my execution won’t be as smooth as he probably anticipates. When I look up, I expect to find disappointment on his face, but to my surprise, all I see is hunger reflected at me along with a growing level of impatience.

I wrap my hand around the thick base, and his cock throbs in my palm as I draw the head forward and smooth it over my lips. It’s salty and musky, and I’m not sure what to think of it, but when Thorsen rumbles his approval, it spurs me on.

My tongue darts out and swirls around the head, and his entire body contracts beneath me. His muscles are so taut it feels like I’m leaning into a brick wall. When I peek up at him, his lips are parted in what I can only describe as visceral pleasure.

“Keep going.” He twists his grip on my hair, harnessing his restraint, and it occurs to me that’s what this really is. If he had his way, he’d already have his cock lodged into my throat, pumping away at my face. The image makes my nipples tight, and I try not to think too much about the reasons as I slip his cock past my lips and draw the tip farther into my mouth.

My illusion of control swiftly disintegrates when Thorsen palms the back of my head and forces himself deeper with a groan. Panic makes me dig my nails into his trousers as my eyes water, and I fight the urge to gag. Just when I’m convinced this is how I’m going to die… with a cock in my throat… he pulls back and allows me to take a breath.

“You’re so pretty, min gudinne.” He massages my jaw beneath his fingers. “I’m going to wreck you.”

I whimper as he drags my mouth back to his cock, gentler this time, easing me into a comfortable rhythm as my lips glide over his shaft. Thorsen closes his eyes, his fingers going lax in my hair, and for the briefest of seconds, I catch a glimpse of him not as a monster, but a man. A man who’s been starving for this.

Logically, I know it doesn’t make any sense. He could get any woman he wants, asshole or not. In Lavinia’s own words, he’s hot, rich, and royal. Nothing else matters to a lot of the women he comes across, I’m sure. And at this moment, as I kneel before him, worshipping his royal cock, I actually feel a fraction of sympathy for him.

What kind of life he must live, never knowing who to trust. Is this why he came for me? He saw my weakness, and he exploited it, but is it because he’s tired of being exploited too? I shake away those thoughts and suck him harder, deeper. His grunts of pleasure are my reward, and I don’t know why my body seems to respond every time I hear them.


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