Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Is that for me, baby,” he purrs, dragging her closer to him.
He slides his fingers down her arm and across her milky skin to her wrist. I see Brooke stiffen. I see the distaste. Feel her disgust.
My head explodes with rage, and I blindly reach for my gun and press it to the top of his hand before pulling the trigger. His hand bursts open like a watermelon being slammed into the sidewalk. Blood and bone and small pieces of flesh burst upward before raining down on the poker table.
The mudak roars with pain.
Guns are drawn.
Chairs scrape and hit the floor as people stand.
The only person who doesn’t stand is my uncle. He simply sits there, his cold eyes watching me with contempt. Beside him, Vlad cries like a baby, blubbering something about revenge and humiliation, and blah blah blah.
I lean down. “I warned you once, and you didn’t listen. Now you know there are no second chances. You even glance sideways at her, and I’ll fucking shoot you again, only next time I will shoot you in the goddamn heart.”
41
LEV
Brooke is silent in the back of the car as we head toward home.
I’m still barely containing my rage that Vlad had the balls to openly taunt me by putting his hands on Brooke. Even shooting his hand apart hasn’t dampened the possessive fury tearing at me.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Brooke says, breaking the silence. She looks at me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“You just shot a man.”
“It’s not my first time, and it won’t be my last.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she says, not afraid of my mood as we pull up to the estate.
But she waits until we’re inside before she speaks.
“You might feel better if you talk about it,” she says, following me into my study.
But I don’t want to talk.
I don’t even want to think about it.
Taking her by surprise, I drag her to the wall and kiss her hard.
“Lev—”
I kiss my name from her lips.
I’m so worked up I either need to fuck my fake fiancée until we’re both breathless, or I need to go punch a boxing bag until next year to work off this frenetic energy buzzing through me.
I pull up the hem of her dress and push aside her panties. I don’t wait. And by the slickness coating my fingers, she doesn’t need me to.
I fuck her solidly into the early hours of the morning, determined to fuck the image of Vlad’s hands on her out of my head. I’m fucking exhausted but making her come just one more time has become my addiction tonight.
“No more, Lev, I can’t,” she whimpers right before I press deeper and harder into her, and her body ignites with another orgasm.
Crying out, she arches her body as raw pleasure floods her veins, and her unbridled cries are a lullaby to my prickly, hot senses.
When she comes back to me, she places her palms on either side of my face. “You need to come.”
I rock into her, but she pushes a palm into my chest to stop me. I look down on her beautiful face. Sweat beads her brow, and her hair is damp.
“Let me take care of you,” she says, then nudges me off her. When I roll onto my back, she crawls across my body and slowly sinks onto my cock.
I think she’s going to ride me into my orgasm, but she doesn’t. The moment she has me sheathed in her warm, tight pussy, she doesn’t move. My cock throbs, needing the friction. And damn if it isn’t sweet torture waiting for it.
“Tell me what has gotten into you tonight?” she asks, placing her palms on my chest.
I grab her hips. If she isn’t going to move, I’ve going to push her back and forth over my cock until I come.
But she forces my hands away.
“Zayka… I need you to move…”
“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
God, I want her to move so bad, and the anticipation is… fuck, it’s building like a wave in my belly.
“Fine, fuck.” I look up into her beautiful face. “I didn’t like seeing Vlad’s hands on you.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I realized that when you shot him. But why are you jealous of that douchebag?”
“I’m jealous of any man who puts his hands on you.”
She looks surprised, then surprise gives way to a wicked gleam in her eyes, and she starts to move, gently rocking her hips slowly, her pussy clenching tight around my cock.
Fuck.
She drags my hands to her breasts and kneads them into the soft flesh. “There’s only one pair of hands I want on me.”
I brush my palms over her tight pink nipples, my mouth aching to taste them. But my little bunny has other plans. She is going to torture me with the painfully slow roll of her hips, and I am at her mercy.