Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I drag her hair away from her face so she can see the honesty in my eyes when I say, “I was wrong. Nothing was going to stop this, Natalya. Nothing will stop it. You are mine, and whether you believe me now or ten years down the track, I won’t stop working to prove that you are worth more to me than billions in the bank and a reputation that is feared more than revered. It won’t be easy, and I’m destined to stuff up—it is in my nature—but I won’t give up on us.”
I angle my head to the side and prick my ear when Natalya murmurs, “All three of us?”
When she attempts to return to an upright position, this time, I let her.
It is probably the worst response in the world, but the zipper in my pants bites my rapidly inflating cock when she fans open the coat she refused to remove earlier. Her bump is small, barely a curve in her lower stomach, but I studied her body in depth only three months ago. I know every single bulge.
That curve wasn’t there the night we wed or the day she left me.
It is as new as the glow on her cheeks.
Spotting my response, Natalya drags her teeth over her lower lip before raising her eyes to my face. “If you fuck this—”
“Language.”
She rolls her eyes about the interruption before correcting, “If you stuff this up, that zero”—she nudges her head to the envelope she arrived with—“is going to have a heap of numbers in front of it next time.”
“You can have it all. Every fucking cent.” Her smile tapers when I add, “On one condition.” Her giggles bounce around my office when I murmur, “You fire the tailor who altered my pants. There’s no room for growth in the damn crotch.”
Her giggles turn into roars of laughter when she recognizes the pants I wore to mediation. They’re the ones she picked for me, the hideous monstrosity that makes it seem as if I haven’t been dressing myself since I was four.
“We’ll see who is laughing when your mouth tends to my injuries.”
The last half of my reply is muffled by Natalya’s lips when she seals her mouth over mine. She kisses me until the fog on the frosted wall in my office is natural and the zipper of my pants is permanently imprinted on me.
Just. Like. Her.
The End!