Read The C Word (Just a Word Book 1) for Free Online Page A

canines I’ve seen when she shifts, included.
    “Good girls
get rewards Rose.”
    She smiles.
    “Do you know
what bad girls get?”
    “Punishment?”
she croaks. Heat spreading across her chest in a beautiful blush that reaches
her neck. So the idea of punishment turns her on. Interesting.
    “No, Rose.
Bad girls get nothing.”
    She swallows
hard and nods.
    My cock
throbs in my hand and, cupping her chin with my other hand, I stroke it across
her lips.  
    “Open,” I
whisper.
    Her tongue
wets her lips as they part and I slide in to her hot mouth.
    I groan, damn,
that feeling is always so good. She takes over and pulls back until just the
head is in her mouth, licking around the rim and sucking until I moan. She
releases me and stares up at me as she licks the entire length, circling the
tip with her tongue before plunging down, taking me deep.
    So deep that
for a second I forget that this is Rose. Rose! I’ve had some pretty good blow
jobs in my life, I think generally guys give the best head, but this is up
there. And it’s ROSE. My hands find their way into her hair and I gather her
long, dark curls all up into my fist. Using my hand full of hair, I guide her
movements, encouraging her to let go and allow me to control the depth. She
seems willing, so I push her harder, feeling my head in the tight confines of
her throat, willing her to swallow.
    She gags. Oh
god! Even better. Nothing beats that reflex closing of the throat around your
cock.
    Fucking heaven.
    Her tongue
extends out, lapping towards my balls as she takes me to that gagging point
again.
    Fuck. That
tongue.
    Oh god. The
reflex again.
    I yank her
off me by her hair.
    Something
about this being Rose, who I have known all my life, is making it feel hotter
than it is. It’s like fucking my best friend’s sister. Taboo. Fucking hot
taboo. Her father fucks me occasionally to relieve the pressure, but I wouldn’t
call him a friend. Still, Rose is a no go, both by my own personal standards
and by pack proprieties. I’m not going to mate with her after all. It’s not
like it never happens, but pack is basically family, sex before mating is fine,
but it complicates the shit out of things if you do it on your own doorstep.
    Still, it’s
not my door step is it? I chose a different life. To remind myself of this, I
use her mouth for a few more deep strokes until that wondrous reflex hugs me
again. Then I pull out and gather her up. Breathlessly she follows me as I lead
her by her tethered wrists to the bedroom, my still exposed cock leading the
way.
    Hitting a
switch, I enter the room and the low level lighting comes on, casting shadows
and creating warm glows, just the way I like it. I lead her to the middle of
the room and throw the length of rope over an arm of the metal chandelier hanging   over head. Slowly pulling the rope, so that her hands are lifted above her head and
tying it off on the post of my bed. She glances up sceptically at the light
fitting.
    “Relax,” I
tell her softly. “You can suspend two people off that. It was specially fitted.”
    She swallows,
looking up again, then dropping her gaze to me, she quirks a brow, “so it’s not
your lifestyle, but you have specially fitted ‘people suspending’ chandeliers?”
    I laugh, “You
might have me there.”
    She wriggles
in her bindings and adjusts her feet. “No, I think you’ve got me. So what do
you plan to do with me?”
    “I’m going to
make you come,” I whisper in her ear as I press up against her and wrap my arms
around her, grabbing her arse. “Over and over.”
    She sucks in
a breath as I pull her flush against me. My cock presses into her and my hands
fist her dress, the floaty skirt seeming to go on forever as I try and find my
way under the hem. Damn, this thing isn’t that long, it finishes above her knee,
but it’s made of miles of barely there chiffon. I let go and step back,
noticing for the first time that she is rather dressy tonight.
    I signal for
her to