Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I sat there, panting after my jumbled confession, unsure of what the hell I’d even said or if it made sense. All I knew was that I didn’t want him to be sorry. So, I kept talking, confused about how to reach my point until I finally demanded him to not say it.
I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. I was such a mess.
“Look at me, Aspen,” he said gruffly.
Hesitantly, I pulled my hands aside and cupped my cheeks, ready to hide again. Something dark and barely restrained lingered in the depths of his gaze. My breath caught in my lungs, and I couldn’t look away.
“I hope you know that none of that was your fault, and that you should have had someone to do more than take care of it silently,” he said before his voice dropped, matching the dangerous glint in his eyes. “If I’d been around in that situation, there’s nothing you could have said that would have prevented me from beating every single one of those sick fucks to a fucking pulp.”
My heart stuttered to a stop, leaving me stunned silent at the image of Lucian Daire—the man I hated and who hated me—claiming to defend me if he’d been given the chance. The leashed rage behind his clenched jaw lashed at my skin and did weird things to my stalling heart.
“And…” he began again before I could formulate words. “I changed my mind. I’m not sorry about tonight.”
His gaze softened, and the tension behind his lethal promise faded, releasing us from the moment. I latched on to the out, saying lightly, “Good.”
“In fact…”
The sentence hung between us.
The leather creaked.
He adjusted, resting an elbow on the center console.
All his coiled tension vanished, leaving the dark and dangerous man I first met.
“The only thing I’m sorry about is that I didn’t get to purposefully make you come.”
My eyes widened when he leaned closer, enveloping me in the shadows with him. “Why?” I whispered.
He smirked. “Because I love winning.”
I gasped, my jaw dropping. “You would not win.”
“Princess, I could win with just this hand,” he claimed, holding up his large, powerful palm and long fingers.
Maybe it was the wild nerves vibrating along my limbs after confessing my past. Maybe it was the lingering adrenaline from our performance. Maybe it was the energy from the club still clinging to us in the car. Maybe it was my determination to prove my ex-boyfriend didn’t still haunt my present.
Or maybe…it was just Lucian.
I didn’t want to answer—too scared it’d be the latter.
It didn’t matter whatever the reason was, it pushed me to act without thinking—it urged me to just do, do, do.
“Prove it,” I challenged.
A growl rattled deep in his chest like an animal ready to pounce. “Don’t tempt me, princess.”
Go, go, go.
Ignore the doubts. Control the thoughts.
You’re in control.
I scooted my hips to the edge of the seat and spread my legs, shivering from the cool air brushing against my wet folds. “Scared?”
His face hardened, but not like before. It hardened with determination and strength and pure sexual energy.
His fingers inched closer until the tips grazed my knee. I jumped, but held my position.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his gaze open. If I thought him capable, I’d say caring—a look similar to when he undid the ropes binding me to the chair.
But I didn’t want caring. I needed the other side of him—the one determined to win—the one that tied me down. The one with enough darkness to blot out any memories but now. “Yes,” I said, resting my hand over his and pressing it hard against my thigh.
“All you have to do is say stop,” he whispered, holding still.
“I won’t.”
The open and caring halted, swallowed up by his shadows. Perfect. “Then make sure you say my name when you come.”
“I won’t,” I said again, but it came out weak as his hand slid to my core, already leaving me breathless.
He chuckled, dragging his fingers along my folds. “So wet.” He slipped between the lips of my pussy and played at my opening, pulling moisture around and up to my clit. “I’ll admit, I prefer this—fucking you with my hand rather than some toy. That way I get to feel every hot, silky part of you instead of being tortured by the wet heat I couldn’t have. But I can have it now, can’t I, princess?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“Can’t. I. Princess?”
Closing my eyes, I released my lip and gave him what I knew he wanted. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Without any warning or build up, he shoved two thick fingers deep until he couldn’t anymore. I jerked against the pinch of pain from his dry fingers forcing their way inside. My cum eased the way, but didn’t erase all the friction—and I didn’t want it to.
I want to make you like the pain.