Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Heath steps towards him, closing the distance. “And I know you. Remember that.” He runs a thumb over Josh’s cheek. “I know you’d happily be my fist puppet and sing whatever fucking tune I wanted.”
Josh’s eyes are so fierce on Heath’s.
“If it’s in the proposal, sure. I never let my clients down.” He looks towards me. “And neither does Ella, do you, baby?”
I shake my head.
“Never. No way. I’ll be singing along to the same tune all night long.”
Josh grins. “You wouldn’t want to be singing Bohemian Rhapsody though, would you?”
He starts humming the theme tune to Nighttime Whispers. Cheeky bastard.
I imagine bouncing on Heath’s fist, trying to crescendo the song lyrics with Josh beside me, both of us trying to ride in sync. It’s so darkly fucked up I laugh out loud, but at the same time, it gives me tingles. Whatever the hell had been written in Heath’s proposal would have made me horny. And that’s the thing… as crazy as it might sound, I’m coming to expect crazy. To embrace crazy. To ride the crazy, wherever it takes me. Especially where an idol like Heath is concerned.
I don’t think we’ll truly be singing tunes tonight, but as for being fist puppets? That seems right up Heath’s street. I wouldn’t put it past him on the stretch-play front, and I wouldn’t want to. And from the way he’s staring at Josh, I’d say the idea is pretty solid in his mind.
“Serious now, curva,” Heath says. “You won’t be laughing when you’re begging your master on the floor. The proposal starts now.”
Shit. Ok. I haven’t had much time to prepare. I’m blustering around, thinking maybe I should get dressed up like a decent gothic curva, but Josh never blusters when he’s on the spot. He’s cool as a cucumber.
I start as he takes hold of Heath’s chin. His movement snakelike, he’s so fucking quick.
“The question is, how loud are you gonna sing when it’s your turn?” Josh asks our vampire lord. “You’ll take it right back when you’re done with us.”
Heath raises his eyebrows. “Dirty talk like that is only going to make me push you harder.”
“Good. I want you to push it all the fucking way. Treat me like a dirty puppet, and it’ll be coming right back at you.”
“I know that. I wrote the fucking proposal.”
The tension is ramping. The dynamic between them makes me heady, it’s so palpable.
I can’t help but drop the proposal envelope when my boyfriend lands his lips on our client’s. It slips from my hand and goes sailing to the floor, because I’m so mesmerised by the scene unfolding. Josh and Heath’s ferocity takes me aback as they kiss and groan – Josh spinning to slam Heath into the counter. Josh can switch both ways, but with Heath he loves to lead. He loves to drive and push, and stretch. It will be a gorgeous strain for him to accept Heath as the master on night one.
Heath shoves Josh away and snaps his fingers before he points at the floor.
“Strip and serve,” Heath says to my boyfriend, then beckons me forward with a wave of his hand. “You too, Ella. I want both of you naked, right now. On your knees. Time to get this filthy puppet show underway.”
His voice sounds like the Count’s on Nighttime Whispers – the deep, dark tone he uses when he’s asserting control. My body responds before my brain does, ditching the bikini I’m still wearing from the terrace without a second thought. I’m over to him in seconds, dropping to my knees in time with Josh once he’s stripped from his t-shirt and shorts. I cast a glance at Josh’s hard cock, already impressive and veiny. I’m so tempted to reach over and grip the gorgeous barbelled shaft, but Heath clears his throat, drawing my attention straight back up to our master.
His smile is sly. He leans back against the worktop, still clothed in his own t-shirt and shorts.
“Such beautiful creatures,” he says. “So eager to do my bidding.”
He points at the floor.
“Lower.”
“Lower?” I ask.
“Yes. Lower. Pray at my fucking feet like good sluts. Balasana!”
I’ve been practising yoga with Josh as part of his workouts back in London. The flexibility helps no end in our line of work. Still, I haven’t used it like this before.
Balasana. The child position.
I can feel the prickly heat from Josh, wanting to fight back and haul Heath to the floor along with us, but he doesn’t do it. He does as he’s told, lowering his torso, so his forehead is resting on the floor. It looks like a plea for mercy when he stretches out his arms in front of him.
The aircon works like a dream in this place, so I know the glorious marble floor tiles are going to be cold against my skin. I give Heath a moan and graze my nipples against the chill first, arching myself into the cobra position to display my tits before heeding his command for balasana, my forehead touching the floor.