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)
He’s pissed. I can tell by his twitching jaw and the balled hand stuffed in his trousers pocket, but he maintains his cool because he knows the one thing I’ve yet to learn.
My libido can control me.
After denying the hostess’s offer of a menu, Matvei places an order for a three-course meal, a breadbasket, and an expensive bottle of wine before he slips into the booth across from me.
The hostess he’s treating like a server is barely two steps away from our table when he shifts my focus from the meals that cost in excess of two hundred dollars a plate to him with the simple click of a button.
I’m instantly overwhelmed and steamrolling toward a brutally blinding release.
If the jolts of the vibrating panties weren’t so mind-numbingly delicious, I could excuse myself to the bathroom to remove his device of torture, but since both my mind and body are the most stimulated they’ve been in years, I hold Matvei’s hooded gaze while riding the intense wave making my breathing as erratic as my panic.
It is late, so the restaurant only has a handful of patrons filling the ample floor space, but still. I doubt I could come while being eyed by more than one person. I’m not into exhibitionism.
I don’t think.
The shivers making my skin a sticky mess have me skeptical. Is it Matvei’s hooded gaze driving me insane? Or the prospect of being caught? It could be a bit of both.
Matvei waits until the dishware stops rattling in the aftermath of my clutch of the tablecloth before he switches off the device.
Now I want to go on a rampage.
That was intense.
Insane.
It made me the horniest I’ve ever been.
Matvei acts ignorant, though. “Wine?” He gestures for the waiter to pour me a generous glass, his question merely for show. “Tiny sips,” he commands when I gather the goblet-sized glass in my still-shaky hand. “I don’t want your head clouded by anything but me.”
He makes it virtually impossible not to splash the tablecloth with dark-red stains when he switches the device back on. He keeps the tremors noticeable but manageable by only activating the internal vibrator on a low setting. He leaves my clit to pulsate with no additional stimulation.
Fortunately for me, I wasn’t lying when I said his voice alone could get me off.
When he demands my eyes to his, I almost combust.
“Hold it,” Matvei demands, his voice a rapturous roar. “If you come, I’ll tan your ass where you sit.”
I squeeze my thighs together.
It worsens the situation.
It can’t conceal how wickedly deviant we’re being.
My eyes snap open when Matvei slams his hand down on the table, wordlessly demanding the return of my eyes.
Once he is confident he has my utmost devotion, he repeats, “Hold it.”
“I-I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He adds to his assurance with a threat. “Because if you come now, I’ll withhold your orgasms for a week.” His hand shoots down to his crotch before he continues. “I want a front-row seat to the show, Natalya. My face a fucking inch from your cunt as it convulses around my fingers covered in the evidence of your arousal.”
As the image he forces into my head demands my hips to sway, I rub my knees together. I’m burning up everywhere and almost sure I will fail, so you can understand my surprise when I stave off my orgasm successfully enough for the waiter to approach our table with a plate of rye sticks.
“Good girl,” Matvei praises, his throaty tone hinting that I’m not the only one struggling.
He waits for the server to place down our bread before he nudges his head to a portion of the booth next to him.
I scamper to his side like a dog being tossed a treat. Don’t judge me. You can’t feel what I’m feeling. The tingles. The tension. The fireworks stirring in my stomach. I’m a ticking bomb, and Matvei is holding the only detonator. I’d be a fool to give this up.
I’m also incredibly turned on that he went against Vasily and won. Not many men in this town are game to do that, and they rarely try for a woman they hardly know.
I almost vault out of my chair when Matvei places his hand high on my thigh. His body temperature is as noticeably high as mine. His hand is fiery to the touch, but he pretends his zipper isn’t gnawing at his cock. “After we’ve eaten, I will let you come.”
“I’m not hungry,” I murmur, eager to get the show started.
I’m starving since I haven’t consumed a single calorie since lunch, but I lie since hardly any of my hunger is associated with food.
Matvei swallows a mouthful of wine before signaling for the hostess to return to our table. I can’t hear what he whispers in her ear, but her cheeks hue red before she dips her chin and skedaddles away.