Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“That’s dangerous, Caroline. The heart of a submissive must be guarded.” He groans, rolling his hips and pumping into me harder, faster. I can’t process what he’s saying now. My breasts tingle and swell, and my pussy throbs with need. It’s hard to hear him, hard to focus when I’m so overcome with arousal and need, so intent on bringing him pleasure.
He shocks me when he yanks my head away and shoves his cock back in his pants.
“Enough,” he says. At first, I worry that I did something wrong, but I soon realize it’s only because he doesn’t want to climax this way.
“I want in you. On the bed,” he groans. “Now.”
I scramble on the bed on all fours, looking over my shoulder at him, but when I do, he slams his palm against my bare ass.
“Good girl,” he approves, coming up behind me. “I told you I’d take good care of you. Now on your back.”
I flop on my back, stifling a whimper of need. He’s on the edge himself, and his gaze is laser focused. If I didn’t know he was turned the hell on, I would think he was angry, he’s that serious.
“Arms above your head.” I obey, leaving my entire body ripe with need and at his mercy. He strips, eyes focused on me, but I quickly look away because I want to look at him.
First, the buttons on his shirt. Sliding out of it, he tosses it in a hamper and stands before me wearing nothing but a t-shirt. I let my eyes roam unabashedly over his body, from his large muscled arms to the breadth of his chest. I swallow hard, a shiver gliding through me.
He’s so fucking hot.
Next come his pants. He makes quick work of unbuttoning them and shoving them down. His erection springs free, and I stifle a whimper. He’s murmuring things in Russian I can’t quite make out, I’m so heady with need and want. He’s brought me to the edge of pleasure today and I haven’t been the same since.
He lowers his body to mine, and I want to reach for him. I want to touch him, but he’s forbidden it.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he whispers in my ear.
“With that erection of yours pushed between my thighs, I have a pretty good idea.”
His chuckle in my ear makes me shiver. I bite my lip, unable to stop myself from nearly grinning. It feels like a win, every time. Then the voices in my head come to a stuttering halt and all I can do is feel.
“Tomas,” I breathe, when he captures my wrists in his warm, firm grasp. He drops a kiss to my forehead, my temple, my cheek, whispers of kisses along my scar that make me shudder.
“Don’t,” I whisper, but his grip tightens, and he doesn’t stop.
“Every inch of you is mine,” he says with purpose, his voice tight and controlled. “And I will own you.”
Not my heart.
He doesn’t hear my internal protest, but he feels it, because his body tenses.
“Do you hear me?” he says in my ear. “Own you.”
He kisses me again, the roughness of his whiskers belying the softness of his lips. I don’t know why I fight this so badly, but I do, as if I can’t willingly relinquish a part of me that’s still locked away.
When his mouth meets mine, I moan. I try to control it. I try to hold myself back. I don’t want to submit to him, but being so near, I’m dazzled with his scent and strength, and my core throbs with need.
Reaching down, he palms one of my breasts, grazing his thumb over the hardened peak before he takes my mouth. His tongue meets mine, at once possessive. I groan when he fingers my nipple while kissing me. I want so much more. My hips roll beneath him, my wrists pressed firmly in his grasp, and every stroke of his thumb on my nipple makes my pussy throb with need until I think I’m going to come just from his fingers on my breast.
I’m so ready to fly, right on the edge of losing total control.
“Tomas,” I moan when he stops kissing me.
“Sir.”
I quickly amend. “Sir. Oh, God. Please, sir. I need you inside me.”
Being taken by Tomas is so different from what was done to me—I can’t speak of it or even think of it—that it’s inexplicably healing. Being claimed by him and brought to pleasure makes me feel owned in the best possible way. Yet, I resist it. I fight it. I don’t want to be hurt again.
“Christ, woman,” he says in my ear. I exhale when he takes the head of his cock and presses it to my clit. “You’re so fucking tight and wet. So responsive to me. You’re ready, aren’t you, little detka?”