Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
“Mikhail—”
Men scatter in all directions when Andrik pulls away from me with a growl. He tugs me to the hood of Mikhail’s car and arches me over it.
I don’t register him pulling up the hem of the business skirt I only ever wear to interviews until the cool breeze floating over my backside offers an immense amount of relief to the burn of his first spank.
He spanks me as if I am a disobedient child, and I love every damn minute of it.
Regretfully.
Tingles race across my skin as throaty, dirty moans form low in my throat. It takes everything I have not to release them, but I attempt to hold some of my pride.
After a dozen swats, the hand turning my backside red switches from punishing to soothing. Andrik rubs my stinging globes, his fingers lowering with every gentle stroke.
“Fuck, милая.” His husky words float over my back when his fingertips brush past the opening of my pussy.
I’m wet.
Ashamedly.
“N-not for you,” I stammer, fighting with the last morsel of rebellion I have.
After angling his body so I’m blocked from the main residence by his brooding frame and awarding me a smirk that announces I’m five seconds from being spanked again, Andrik slides his hand under the damp material clinging to my pussy and circles his thumb over my clit.
“You like being punished by me.”
He isn’t asking a question—he’s stating a fact. But I still rear up, fighting like hell to prove him wrong. “As much as I’d love having my wisdom teeth extracted.”
His laugh makes me hot all over, and when he places even more pressure on the nervy bud stealing my smarts, my willpower bends.
“Your clit is so hard that one flick of my tongue over it would have you screaming my name loud enough for Myasnikov residents to hear.”
“Y-you wish.”
He acts as if I never spoke.
“You’re drenched for me.” When he uses his spare hand to force eye contact, my thighs press together. Gone is the menacing madman hell-bent on vengeance. Replaced with a man with his head stuck in a lust cloud. “Aren’t you, милая?”
He makes sure I can’t reply by dedicating a heap of attention to my clit. He sweeps his thumb over it while maintaining eye contact.
His heated watch is almost too much. Too explosive. Too untamed. It courses desire through my body so uncontrollably that the only objections I manage are the ones warning my head that I will never forgive myself if it ends this now.
I should hate how good he makes my body feel.
Guilt should be my strongest emotion.
Regretfully, it isn’t.
It is taking everything I have not to come, and I’m not the only one noticing.
Andrik slides his fingers through the folds of my pussy, doubling the sticky residue coating his palm, before he asks, “Who owns this cunt, милая?”
He flicks my clit harder when I remain quiet. He bends my will by sliding two fingers inside me. His growl when my pussy sucks around them makes me whimper. He takes them deep, bruising me with his touch as much as he claims me with it.
“The word you’re seeking is ‘you,’ милая.”
“Fuck you.”
I feel his smile more than I see it.
You can’t miss the heat of arrogance, and I can no longer maintain eye contact. It is too intense and primal and has me the most conflicted I’ve ever felt.
“It’ll be my pleasure, милая.” Andrik pushes into me so deeply the imprint of his cock will be embedded in my ass for eternity. “But first, I need you wet enough to take me.”
“That isn’t what I meant. I don’t want th-this.”
My stuttered response has him seeing straight through my lie, much less the sound of my arousal as he pumps in and out of me.
He toys with my clit while finger fucking me at a slow, leisurely pace like he has all the time in the world. He knows every button to push, and within minutes, I roll my hips in rhythm to the frantic pulse of my clit.
I’m wet enough for signs of an imminent climax to be unmissable and to make a mess on the front of Andrik’s pants, yet his pace doesn’t hasten in the slightest. He takes his time, not needing a worded confirmation that he owns both me and my pussy.
He drives me to the brink until stars form and his name sits breathlessly on the tip of my tongue, and then he teases me with an underhanded promise I shouldn’t crave but desperately want.
“Do you want me to make you come now, милая, or once my dick is buried deep inside you?”
“Now,” I beg, arching up on my tippy-toes. “Please.”
“Please, who?”
I grit my teeth, hating how fast his name almost whips out of my mouth.
This isn’t how I envisioned our reunion. He’s meant to be huddled over, gripping his crotch, not cupping mine. He’s the enemy. The monster. A cheater. He isn’t supposed to have the ability to turn my brain to mush.