The Girlfriend (The Boss #2) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
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“Careful,” he admonished, as though I had any control over what my body was doing. “You don’t want to ruin that pretty smile.”

I managed a garbled, “Fuck you,” around the gag. That shocked me; when I was acting as a sub, I usually didn’t want to back talk. I wanted to please him.

He pulled the vibrator away, and smacked me again with the paddle. I yelped.

“I don’t like bratty subs, Sophie. I’ve told you that before.” The vibrator pushed against my clit, swirled in tight circles. “I was going to make it one, but now I think it will be five.”

One what? Five what? My mind circled furiously, but it was really hard to think as my body was forced closer and closer to another climax. I dragged ragged breath into my lungs, gulping and gasping under the mingled pain of my burning flesh and the pleasure of my singing nerve endings. My hips lifted against the wand in his hand, coming closer, closer, so close that I didn’t care that I’d just had an orgasm; if I didn’t have this one, I wouldn’t make it through the night. I hovered on the edge, my toes curling, and I hugged my legs tighter.

Just as I reached the brink, just as my body was about to let go, he pulled the vibe away and slapped the paddle down on my open, wanting flesh.

“Fuck!” I couldn’t help my loud groan. My groin ached, not just from the slap, but from the orgasm that was cruelly ruined at the last possible second.

“That’s one.”

At least sound didn’t travel as well in this house as in the New York apartment, because everyone would have heard my despondent wail.

“Please, please, please,” I begged around the gag. I couldn’t see him, but I could imagine how he looked down at me now, somehow cruel and loving at the same time. He treasured me, he loved me, he tortured me; I needed it. By the time we reached five horribly ruined orgasms, I was sobbing, pleading, the black silk over my eyes soaked with my tears.

He unclasped the cuffs and pulled my aching legs down, then jerked me to my feet and marched me across the floor, wobbly in my heels. The sound of the air changed; we were in the dressing room. He whipped the blindfold from my eyes, and I blinked in the beam of recessed lighting.

“Look at yourself,” he ordered.

The woman in the mirror didn’t look like me. She was shivering, flushed across her chest, swollen and red between her legs. Her mascara ran in long tracks down her pale, sweaty face; her lipstick smeared around the gag.

Realizing that the woman really was me was a shock to my system that renewed my desire. Like getting a second wind during a run, I was ready to keep going.

Neil’s grip on the back of my neck was firm to the point of pain. “Look at what you let yourself do for me.”

My knees trembled.

“Get back out there. On the bed, on your hands and knees.” He gave me a rough push, and I did as he told me, pressing my thighs hard together with every step. I wanted him to fuck me. I prayed that was what he was going to do.

I positioned myself as he’d ordered and waited, almost weeping with the anticipation that curled through me. When he came back, I didn’t look at him. He hadn’t given me permission. I felt the brush of his bare thighs against the backs of mine, and I held my breath. Would he be rough with me, or gentle? Would he let me come?

A cold stream of lube slid between my ass cheeks, and I startled. Oh.

The tip of something rubber slicked over my opening, and with nothing to ready me, no careful attention this time, he pushed the toy into my ass.

The dildo he used was definitely not as big as some of the implements he owned. It hurt enough as it was, but the thrill I felt far outweighed my discomfort. I whimpered around the gag as he moved the toy in and out. Then the head of his cock pushed against my swollen labia, and with a slippery glide of his fingers to part me, he was inside.

He hissed at the tightness, and I shuddered as his cock pulled out, then plunged in again. He worked the toy in my ass in an alternate rhythm, pausing only to reach up and release the gag. “Do you like this, Sophie?”

“Yes, Sir,” I moaned, shivers of hot and cold, pleasure and pain, skating along every nerve ending in my body. I was too full, not full enough. I wanted him deeper, wanted him to fuck me like he was going to tear me apart.

“Why do you like it?”


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