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)
“Do I need to take you over my knee, милая?” I curse my lack of attention to detail to hell when excitement is my first response to his threat.
If I had paid more attention to both the ticket and our location, I would have known his next confession before he announced it. “I own this club… and everyone in it.” My eye roll stops halfway when he whispers, “Including the fool you arrived with.”
My throat grows scratchy when I recall the conversation we had when his jealousy got the better of him.
Dead men don’t count.
Vlad doesn’t deserve my loyalty, but I give it to him anyway. “Vlad didn’t touch me.”
“Tonight,” Andrik agrees as he places something bulky and cool around my neck. “But he has previously.” My heart beats in my ears when a second after he clasps what I believe to be a necklace together, he returns his hand to my stomach and growls, “That’s enough for me to kill him.”
My brain is mush from having him so near, knowing he isn’t a man who tosses out worthless threats, and my unexpected gift, so I’m not surprised when my smarts dip to his level. “Then I suggest you double your security. I know where you live, so if you touch Vlad, I’ll tell your wife exactly how many indiscretions you’ve had in your very short marriage.”
He smiles.
He. Fucking. Smiles.
It pisses me off to no end, but no matter how hard my brain screams for my feet to move, they refuse to budge. His quick exploration of my body means his fingers are a mere inch from my clit. They sear my morals as potently as greed does when I notice the size of the massive rock reflecting in the glass wall. It is massive.
Furthermore, I read his contract. I know the terms.
His wife isn’t getting this from him.
I shouldn’t be either.
Even if it is an arrangement, he has to respect the vows he took—doesn’t he?
My brain screams yes. My heart is on the other side of the fence. It is trying to rationalize that his marriage is nothing more than a roundabout way of surrogacy.
It’s fucked to think this way, but a straight and narrow path is boring, and I’ve already had my share of lackluster encounters. Isn’t it time for me to live for me?
Goose bumps rise over every inch of me when Andrik’s hand slides under my shirt. As his fingertip glides over the soaked seam of my panties, his hot breaths continue caressing my ear. “I’d kill him if I believed any of this wetness was for him.”
When he nudges his head to the glass pane separating us from Anya and her partner, I murmur, “It is for hi—”
His hand stills, immediately ending my campaign to dispute his truthful accusation.
I’m not wet because the man doting on Anya is well-endowed and lasted longer than two seconds. My eyes rarely veered lower than his midsection. I was mesmerized by his eye contact and how he made it seem as if Anya was the only person on the planet he was out to impress.
It is similar to how Andrik is making me feel now.
He knows every button to push and for exactly how long. Within seconds, the guilt that forever charges our exchanges lightens enough to blur the line I’m endeavoring to place between us.
As his fingers roll over my clit, his lips nibble on my shoulder. I moan as my hands splay against the glass wall, lost in the sensation of a gifted pair of hands.
“More,” I plead desperately, my pussy needing something to cling to as it rides the wave of ecstasy threatening to crest at any moment.
My teeth grit when Andrik breathes heavily against my neck. “More who?”
I shiver when his fingers slip between the folds of my pussy and arch upward. He’s not quite fingering me, more ensuring I can’t deny his need to be reminded of who is helming our exchange.
“More, Andrik. Please.”
His lips rise against my nape before he spears his fingers inside me, shoving them in deep. They’re so long and girthy that if I didn’t feel his fat cock grinding against my ass, I would assume we skipped foreplay.
Andrik thrusts his fingers in and out of me, stroking my G-spot with every precise pump. In seconds, sweat beads my nape and pleasure swells my insides. I can’t deny how wet I am. I can feel it slicking Andrik’s palm and hear it over my frantic moans. I’m drenched, and at this very instant, unashamed.
“Oh god,” I pant when the world commences blurring.
“No,” Andrik snaps out against my neck. “Not him. There is only one name you’re allowed to scream when you’re being wholly consumed. It isn’t his.”
He finger fucks me faster, harder. He drives me to a blubbering, shuddering mess with rough pounds and curling fingertips.