Todos os capítulos de Miss Goody Two Shoes : Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

“Hello, Cole.” “Good evening, Mr. Crux.” “Did you…I mean. I sent you something. I trust it arrived.” Oh bless, he sounded, well, not nervous exactly. But eager and trying to cover it up. And Cole suddenly felt a whole lot better about the coat. “Yes. Thank you. It’s perfect.” “I’m glad you like it.” “Best thing in my entire wardrobe. I won’t wear anything else ever again.” “Anything else, you say? Now that I’d like to see.” Cole gave this weird bleaty little laugh because she hadn’t been properly prepared for flirting. But she rallied. Made what was probably an ill-advised attempt at sultry. “Come round, then. I’ll give you a private viewing.” “You know I’d love to. But I’m waiting for a call from Tokyo, and I prefer to handle such things from my office.” She sighed. “Soon, then?” “I’ll insist on it.” The growl in his voice sent happy little shivers racing down her spine. But it also made her miss

It turned out, that was straightforward. Cole wasn’t sure how successfully she would have been able to hold back if she had tried. He fucked her mercilessly, with a precision and power that left her an incoherent trembling mess on his desk, her whole body rocking with the thrusts she held herself open for. Being fucked that way, and helpless to do anything but take it and feel it, was insanely intense. Her hands were slippery, her legs ached, and her arse stung a little bit from his thrusts, but somehow, that just made everything even better. Best of all, though, she got to watch. She got to see him pushing into her, framed by the V of her legs, the tender skin of her thighs looking paler than usual in contrast to the dark nylon of the stockings. She got to watch her cock bouncing between them, hard and flushed and shiny with precome, her balls drawn up tight beneath. And she got to watch him. Gorgeously unraveled with his tie askew and his hair mussed

She wondered if Aiden was a vampire, and if this was the place where he kept his blood-doll. Or perhaps he was just an ordinary kidnapper. Maybe he was a masked vigilante, and this room housed his cape. Or he could be one of those conspiracy theorist types, with maps and newspaper clippings plastered on the walls, connected by bits of string. Alternatively, it could simply be a room he happened to have, albeit one that was inaccessible. Cole realized that she might be overreacting. Aiden didn’t owe her access to his past, his heart, or his living space. She wasn’t like Judith, who believed in love as the solution to every problem and the key to every lock, running around Duke Bluebeard’s castle. Well, except for the fact that she was currently ransacking Aiden’s apartment, searching for a key to a metaphorical door. Despite her efforts, she was unsuccessful. Even trying to force her way in like they do in cop shows only resulted in a painful shoulder. So

The sight before her was nothing short of astonishing. It was a fully equipped, exquisitely furnished bondage dungeon—a realm of luxurious indulgence and tantalizing secrets. From the elaborate four-poster bed to the array of hanging implements on the walls, the room exuded an opulent aura. Leather and dark wood dominated the space, with occasional touches of burgundy and gold providing a striking contrast. Cole’s eyes scanned the assortment of cuffs, crops, spreaders, floggers, and other unfamiliar instruments, each one emanating a subtle gleam in the subdued lighting. The furniture itself, she realized, was best left unexamined, as it threatened to send her cheeks blazing with embarrassment. It was a realm of immobilization and exposure, an exploration of desires she had only imagined. And she was more than willing to embrace it all. “Oh my God,” Cole exclaimed, her gaze darting back to Aiden. “I had a feeling about your preferences, but this is in

Cole must have eventually dozed off because when she woke up, the bedroom was full of cold light and Aiden—exquisite in a pearl gray suit and an indigo tie—was sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking her gently. She jerked upright with an undignified wuffle. It was hard not to be slightly discombobulated because seeing Aiden, absolutely composed and back to normal, half made her believe last night had been a really fucked-up dream. “What time is it?” she asked, blearily. “Nearly eleven.” He gestured to a line of cups on the bedside table. “I’m afraid I didn’t know what to bring you. So I thought I’d try everything. There’s tea or coffee or orange juice.” This was not one hundred percent comfortable. Were they seriously just going to pretend nothing had happened? “Um, juice?” she said. “Coffee makes me hyper. And I’ve never gotten into tea.” He gave her a slight smile. “What a terrible confession for an Englishwoman.”