Page 72 of Pennies (Dollar 1)


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His lips pressed mine harder, encouraging sparks as our mouths never stilled.

I shifted restlessly, desperately as my attention riveted to his dexterous tongue and masterful manipulation.

He forced me on a strange tide where I no longer listened to the outside world but my inner one.

The one I’d lost touch with since I was murdered and bought. The one that was so much bigger than the universe I lived in.

The slow incineration quickened as our mouths turned hungry and messy. There was no synchronisation anymore.

“Do you feel it, Pim?” He panted between kisses. “Do you feel your body preparing for me?” His voice switched to a growl, his lips brutal on mine. “Shit, I want you.”

My back bowed as he jerked me forward into his embrace.

Something happened to me.

I was no longer on the same path.

I’d stepped off it.

No, I’d been dragged off it. By this man.

This sinful angel who’d somehow become my defender and liberator all in one.

I didn’t know him.

But I wanted to.

He’d saved my life by giving me a second of happiness. I wanted him to remain in my life. But I knew that wasn’t possible.

He practically hissed with heat. I couldn’t think while he looked at me like that, kissed me like that, stole everything from me like that.

His tongue slid leisurely along my bottom lip, making me crave what he gave so recklessly. I wanted his tongue on me, inside me, consuming me. I wanted things I didn’t understand or ever thought I’d contemplate.

His heavy-lidded glower was furious, angry, full of lust, lust, lust. He screamed sex. But not rape. Sex. Consensual sex—so far from the realm of everything I knew.

His chest rippled as his hand cupped my cheek again. His belly tightened, making his dragon smoke and sizzle.

“I’ve finally made you talk, Pim.” The glitter in his gaze danced with knowledge. “Your body likes me, even if you don’t.”

The surge of complicated, unknown emotions battered me just as nastily as Master A’s fists. I didn’t know why, but in that second, I was devastated—not from the pleasure he’d given, but the low that would hit so damn hard once he left.

I wanted to live in this moment for eternity.

I wanted to find self-worth and happiness in this false togetherness. I wanted companionship but by wanting that, it made me weak because I wanted to lean on him after leaning on myself for so, so long.

I liked him.

He kissed me again, stopping my thoughts and forcing me to accept him on a deeper level than I ever intended.

I was no longer a slave or imprisoned or trapped.

I was kissed.

Kissed.

Mr. Prest slowly pulled away, taking his heat, warmth, and protection with him.

That was…I didn’t have words.

Exquisite?

Devine?

Terrifying?

I hovered in the final bliss of the best thing I’d been given in so long, plummeting into lethargy so heavy and consuming, I struggled to keep my eyes open. What had he done to me? Why did I feel drugged and obsessed and so, so tired?

He didn’t move.

His gaze waged war with things far too deep and dangerous for just a kiss, and I was grateful when he shook his head, carefully masking whatever had happened.

His lips arranged into a self-satisfied smirk. “I take it that was your first?”

My cheeks heated.

I closed my eyes, already coming down from the torrential high he’d shown me.

His knuckles nudged my chin, startling my gaze to open.

“How many other firsts have you been denied?”

What…what do you mean?

Standing from his kneeling position, he sat on the bed and ran a hand over his mouth.

Something hot and needy sprang to life inside me. I didn’t know what it was, but it was tentative but strong, confused but focused.

Twisting to face me, he pressed his fingertip against my forehead. “Has someone made you wet just by talking to you? Telling you what they’re about to do? Giving explicit detail of what they like about your body, what you sound like, taste like, beg like?” He bowed closer, his baritone making me drunk. “Whispering how fucking much they need to be inside you until you shatter the instant touch is given?”

Wow…

The shock and power of his voice almost made me forget my muteness. My head shifted slightly side to side in a very clear and none permitted no.

He exhaled heavily. “I take it that’s another first. Finally answering a question.” His teeth flashed in the low-lights. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

The strange thing was, I believed him. He hated Master A almost as much as I did. He wouldn’t run to him and spill whatever we’d just done. It wouldn’t benefit him in any way.

I stiffened as his finger dropped from my forehead, along my nose, to my lips. “How about this first?” His head lowered, his mouth landing on mine for another brief kiss. “Has anyone kissed you so fucking hard you’re bruised when you come up for air? Has anyone kissed you for fucking hours, tormenting you until you’re drenched for his cock?”

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