Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
He was a valued employee.
He’d made us a beautiful home.
He saved almost every penny, so we were financially comfortable even while I was a poor student. He paid all the bills by giving me his cash. I’d deposit it into our joint account that my dad set up for us. Internet, rent, and power came out automatically, and we usually did a large grocery shop each week on a Sunday.
I didn’t care I might one day be audited and asked where the lump sum payments came from. I’d rather get in trouble for tax evasion than have him deported back to Cem Kara.
Aslan sniffed the air, dipping his finger into the sauce simmering on the stove. Sampling the flavours, he sucked his finger clean. “Yum. Need any help?” Coming toward me, I shivered as he kissed me, placing his large, hot hand on my lower back, stinging me with the crackle of energy that always flowed between us, branding me through my floaty yellow sundress.
“Nah, I’m good. Go sit down and relax. My turn to cook.” I smiled, completely forgetting what I’d been talking about with Teddy and even forgetting how to freaking cook.
He gave me another kiss, sending my pulse quickening.
“Teşekkürler, Neri. Thank you for feeding me.”
The gruff gratefulness in his tone. The overwhelming love in his eyes.
It made me ravenous for other things.
My gaze shot to the sauce.
I’ll turn that off. It’ll be fine for twenty minutes while I feast on—
“Don’t even think about it.” Aslan tapped the end of my nose with his finger. “You had me when you came home from uni. You didn’t even let me have a shower first, and I was fucking filthy from crawling all over the roof. You made me hungry, and now it’s your turn to sate that hunger. And in case you’re thinking dirty things, I mean food, hayatım.”
“But I’m hungry too. For you.”
“You’ll just have to be patient.”
“Spoilsport,” I whispered. “Saying no to your horny wife? Shame on you.” I pouted. He had no defence against me when I fluttered my eyelashes and stuck out my bottom lip. “Lütfen, Aslan.”
“Say please all you want. You can beg me in Turkish all night long, and I’ll still make you wait.”
“What if I showed you how hot I get hearing you speak to me in Turkish?” I slowly gathered the material of my dress.
His eyes flashed. His hands balled. Tension exploded between us.
With a groan, he backed away and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re insatiable.”
“I thought we’d already established this.”
He laughed under his breath as he dropped his hand.
I went to him, grabbed that hand, and brought it beneath my dress.
I shivered as his fingers grazed over my wet underwear.
His legs almost buckled. His eyes turned black. “Her seferinde, karıcığım. Her seferinde bedeninle, gülümsemenle, öpücüğünle bana sahip oluyorsun.” His lips found mine as he rubbed my clit.
“What did you say?” I parted my legs, encouraging him to take more.
With a snarl, he pulled his hand away and stepped back. “I said...every time, wife. Every time you own me with your body, your smile, your kiss.” Licking his fingers from my taste, he groaned. “Thanks to you, I now drink copious amounts of water, yet somehow, I’m still thirsty.”
My gaze dropped to his shorts, my heart racing with need. “Then you probably shouldn’t wear workout shorts that provide a full view of what you’re refusing to give me.”
His eyebrows raised as he dropped his chin down his bare, droplet-glittering chest. It should be illegal how toned he was. How the ridges and valleys, shadows and etches carved his flesh from mortal to myth. “You can’t see anything.”
I laughed. “I can see that you’re tucked to the right with a semi. I can see the outline as clear as day. So if I ever catch you wearing those shorts around anyone else but me, we’re gonna have a problem.”
His eyes flared with crackling heat, making the kitchen blaze. “No one else would know how I’m tucked, Neri. Only you because you’re obsessed with it.”
“More than obsessed.” I picked up the knife and waved it in the air. “Stabby if anyone else touches what’s mine.”
He groaned again and chuckled. “I shouldn’t find that as hot as I do.”
“Have a fetish for knives, Aslan?”
“I have a fetish for you.” Sucking on his bottom lip, he went to the fridge, pulled out a beer and a Sprite for me, then stalked back toward me. Placing the ice-cold can beside the chopping board, he leaned in and blew the softest stream of air on my neck.
I shivered as if an earthquake tore through my body.
“Cook me dinner, çiçeğim, and perhaps I’ll give you dessert.”
I jumped as my phone danced around the counter, buzzing with an incoming FaceTime. The lust in my system scratched through me, making me itch and twitch.