Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Me, tied up.
Leaking for him.
Roman standing over me like he’s conquered me.
I finally wrap my fist around my dick and hold my gaze on his again.
“If you insist on watching me come,” I tell him, “then get down here and let me kiss you.”
He furrows his brow. “You’re crazy.”
“And I’m a good kisser, too. I come a lot harder when I have someone’s tongue in my mouth. I want it so badly, Roman.”
I know he’ll refuse. But on the off chance he doesn’t…
“Not happening.”
I exhale, trying not to stroke my dick too quickly.
It’s hot when he denies me, too.
I see his eyes looking down at my cock every few seconds, and now I’m desperate for more contact.
“Just get close to me, then,” I exhale. “I won’t kiss you.”
“Can I trust you on that?” Roman asks.
“I don’t know. Come find out.”
“Fuck you.”
“Please, Roman,” I say, my voice a little broken as I grip my cock harder.
For a few beats, he doesn’t move. His gaze makes a circuit from my eyes, to my lips, then my cock.
My heart lurches in my chest when he actually gets down on his knees in front of me, and I feel like I just somehow won the lottery.
“I am not kissing you,” he says firmly.
He’s at eye level with me now.
It’s far more intoxicating than it should be.
“Thank you,” I breathe.
His face is so close, and I can smell his clean skin again. My gaze travels over his tattoos, looking at the ones that loop over his shoulder, and when he reaches up to push his hair back, his bicep flexes in a way that looks incredible.
The proximity is everything I wanted. I test my boundaries, leaning forward and dropping the side of my head onto his broad shoulder, and just that amount of direct touch from his skin makes me throb in my fist.
I squeeze my cock harder, and I can’t help it.
I lean in.
I move closer to his neck, with my mouth parted, until my lips hit the side of his neck.
He doesn’t pull away.
I kiss him softly there, just a brush of my lips against his skin, expecting instant retaliation. But I’m still following the rules. I’m not kissing his mouth. And instead of shoving me away, he stays there, frozen, letting me continue.
I suck a slow kiss against the side of his neck, letting my tongue slide out a little, and he exhales at the moment of contact.
“Do you want me to stop?” I whisper.
“Quit talking and come.”
“Tell me to stop, if it’s…”
His hand finds its way to the back of my head again, and he pushes against me, increasing the pressure of my lips on his neck.
“Your tongue feels very good,” he murmurs, leaning harder into my mouth.
I moan softly as he reaches to grip my free wrist in his hand, cuffing it. Each of my limbs is constrained now other than the hand I’m using to get off. I kiss higher along his neck, moving upward, and when I bite his earlobe I hear him mutter a soft curse in Russian.
“Jesus, you are so fucking hot,” I murmur near his ear.
He grips my wrist harder like it’s a punishment.
I turn my head so that I’m near his face, and I lean in to rest my forehead against his. I can feel his breath on my lips. All I would have to do is get a couple of inches closer and our lips would touch.
“So needy for it,” he murmurs, his accent coming out.
“Mm,” I hum, “But you like that, don’t you?”
“Hush.”
But a rush of warmth from his palm hits the center of my chest. He grips the front of my tank top in his fist, clutching at the material, yanking at me like he’s trying to fucking merge with my body.
I move lower and clasp my teeth around his lower lip, biting it and pulling back.
He lets out a low moan as I bite his lip, and I don’t even know if it’s pleasure or raw anger.
It’s not a kiss.
I’m following the fucking rules.
It’s far more aggressive than a kiss, and other than my teeth, no part of me is touching him. I want him to explode. I want him to give me anything, and I would enjoy it all the same.
I slowly release my teeth from his lip, pulling it once more before I force myself to let it go.
His expression looks shattered. Like someone just dosed him with a sedative, and the only thing he’s fixated on is me. He clutches at my shirt again, then brings his other hand up under my jaw, tilting my face with his fingers. He gazes at me for a beat and I swear to everything holy that any person would do anything for him if he looked at them like that.
He leans in, closing the gap between us.