Read Online Silent Daughter 2: Bound by Linnea May, Stella Noir - Free Book Online Page A

trying to control my accelerating breathing.
    "Did you want me to?"
    He rests his hand on my mound, dangerously close to my sex. I find myself shifting beneath him, egging him on.
    "Yes," I say. "I would have. I still do."
    Leonard smiles. "Good."
    He leans down and kisses me. Our tongues intertwine with a desperate need for each other. His hand is still on my lower belly, resting motionless.
    "Would you want me to fuck you right now?" he asks breathlessly in between our kiss.
    "Yes," I breathe.
    "I need you to say it," he adds. "Ask me. Beg me."
    I sigh when his hand moves further below until he is cupping my labia. His hand is warm but feels oddly cool in comparison to my soft skin.
    "Please," I whisper. "I want you to fuck me."
    "Again," he urges, while his fingers start dancing around my throbbing entrance. "Beg, little girl."
    I moan when he pinches my clit. He moves away from my mouth, biting and teasing the sensitive skin on my neck as he moves down to my collarbone.
    "Please, fuck me." I breathe, arching my back as he continues to kiss and fondle me. "Please, Master. I need you to fuck me."
    "Is that what you want?" he asks, now looking up at me.
    I nod. "Yes. Please."
    He throws me a mischievous smile and pushes one of his finger inside my wetness. I gasp in surprise, once again ashamed at my own arousal. How does he do this? Just a few moments of kissing and I am this ready for him.
    It's more than just kissing, though. It's the way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me. His need for me, this inexplicable desire that is reflected in his dark eyes.
    But he is not the only one with needs.
    "I have another request," I say, touching his upper arm, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt.
    He raises his eyebrow. "Another request, huh? Let me hear it and I might fulfill it."
    "I want to see you," I plead.
    I straighten up so that I am sitting next to him and our eyes meet. He never lets go of me and continues to play with the wetness between my spread legs. A wicked smile appears on his face when I let out a faint moan as he rubs my nub with his thumb.
    I lean forward and want to kiss his neck. He grabs me by the hair at the back of my head but doesn't pull me away. It is a mere assertion of control. As if I could ever forget who is in charge.
    "Please, Master. Let me see you." I beg. "I want to see you while you fuck me. All of you."
    I look up at him and make a move to unbutton his shirt, waiting for his confirmation.
    He smiles.
    "If that is what you wish," he says. "Go ahead."
    I don't need to be told twice and immediately start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his well-sculptured, tanned chest button by button. He looks magnificent. There is not a single hair on his strong upper body, his skin is perfectly smooth—and he smells incredibly.
    I run along the sharp outlines of his muscles with my fingertips. This must be the first time I have seen and touched an actual sixpack. It feels surreal, so incredibly hard and soft at the same time.
    Just as I want to lean forward to get a taste of his perfect skin, he withdraws his hand from my center and gets up abruptly. My eyes follow him with disappointment at his sudden retreat.
    While he takes off his shirt, I finally get a glimpse at the tattoo that got me curious about him the first day we met. It turns out to be a large tribal tattoo, covering most of his right shoulder and upper arm. Thick, black lines run across his tanned skin like a black embrace.
    "Wow," I breathe, getting up on my knees so I can touch him as he stands next to the bed.
    "Like what you're seeing?" he asks.
    I nod. "Yes."
    I run my fingertips across his buff arm and shoulder, tracing the lines of the tattoo. It's the hottest thing I have ever seen.
    "Does it have a meaning?" I ask without taking my eyes off of his perfect chest.
    "Yes," he says. "It means that I like to alter my body."
    I look up at him quizzically. He is smiling.
    "It means that I like to mark my body with the darkness that