Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
There’s no coming back from this.
He licks and sucks. My fingers curl into his hair, both hands now holding onto him like I’m riding his face and gripping on for dear life. I throw my head back and moans escape my lips. I’m struggling to be quiet—Hattie’s in the room behind us, but luckily she sleeps like her father does.
Her father…
The man going down on me in the hallway.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
His tongue spreads my folds and slides inside, back out, swirling and sucking, focusing on my clit. Pleasure slams in waves. I arch against his mouth, grinding into him, wanting more. One of his hands reaches up to shove a thumb between my lips and I suck it eagerly. The other holds my ass, pulling my pussy tighter to his mouth as he devours me, making the most delicious sounds.
“Baby, you taste so good,” he moans, pulling back and breathing hard, staring up into my eyes. He’s on his knees, the gaze of a desperate penitent. “I want my tongue inside of you when you come.”
Shit.
“I want that too.”
He shoves two fingers in my mouth. I suck them, moaning, before he pulls them out and slides them deep into my pussy. It feels so good I say his name and have to bite my knuckle to keep from screaming out.
He fucks me with his big, tattooed fingers. H and E gliding deep inside. His mouth sucks and licks my clit, and I’m ruined, god, I’m totally ruined, grinding down on the mouth of my captor, the father of my daughter, my husband, my nightmare and devil, and loving every second of it. The things this man does to me. The way he does them, like he’s breaking all his rules to take me.
I bite down harder to keep from sobbing his name.
“Baby, please,” he begs, and it destroys me. “Please, baby, come for me, let me lick you clean, baby, please.”
That finally shatters me. I cross the line and fall, unable to come back, as the pressure builds in my core and overflows.
I come against his mouth. My back twists, my core clenches, and I burst to pieces, break to shards, burn to ashes. I come so hard my vision turns black and he doesn’t stop, the monster, he eagerly licks and coaxes more and more, until I can barely stand. Only then does he pull back, rocking onto his heels, and slipping his fingers into his mouth to suck every drop of me.
“Now, you will go back to bed,” he says evenly. “You will get under the covers. And you will never try this again.”
“Rafe,” I whimper, mind so wrecked that I can’t come up with an argument.
“Say you understand.”
“I…”
“For your safety, June. And for our daughter.”
I close my eyes. Our daughter.
“I understand.”
“Good girl.” He pats my butt gently. “Now go.”
“Where will you be?” I pick up my clothes, clutching them to my chest.
“In the bathroom.” He stands to his full height. I’m amazed all over again at his size. “Taking care of my needs.”
My cheeks burn as I hurry back into the bedroom.
There’s no escape. Not from a man like this.
Not when I have to think of my daughter.
And my future.
And our safety.
And the way my husband looks at me… like I’m his sin and his downfall… and he can’t wait to burn.
I pull the covers over my head and listen to him moan my name from behind the bathroom door.
18
RAFE
The car rolls through the city and slows outside a high-end French restaurant on the edge of Rittenhouse Square. Theodora gazes out the window beside me, watching the buskers and the pedestrians while my eyes scan the crowd and the nearby street for threats.
“You know what I hate?”
Theodora doesn’t bother looking over. “Ice cream. Puppies. Rainbows. Smiling.”
“Center City in the middle of the day.” My nose wrinkles in disgust. “Too damn crowded.”
“I like all the people.”
“All I can see are threats.”
“You’re too paranoid, Rafe. Look, there’s a cop on a bike. Don’t you feel safer already?”
I give her a flat look. She grins, but she’s not funny.
We get out together. Theodora checks her briefcase while I make contact with my guard team. Four men are nearby keeping watch. Theodora doesn’t know about them and I don’t bother telling her.
While she knows most of what goes on in my operation, I try to keep her in the dark about some aspects.
I trust her, but I don’t trust anyone all the way.
“He should be waiting inside.” Theodora heads up the steps and in through the entrance. The young hostess takes us through the Art Deco interior, past men and women in business attire laughing over mid-day martinis, and toward a booth at the back.
A man’s waiting. He’s in his forties, balding, wire-thin, with a nice suit that looks like it’s hanging off him. He stands and shakes Theodora’s hand. They seem to know each other already, but his gaze flits to me and something about him changes. Tension rolls over his shoulders.