Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 97448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Stop that unless you’re in the mood to get fucked.”
“You know I am.”
He curses under his breath and barely lasts a few seconds before he grabs me by the wrist and drags me to a spare room on the first floor.
It’s more like a sitting room with a few sofas, a coffee table, and a fireplace.
As soon as he closes the door, he pins me against it, and his mouth clashes with mine. Kirill always kisses me with heat and boundless desire, but right now, it’s more animalistic and raw yet also tender.
Ever since I was in the hospital, he’s been kissing me as if he loves me. As if he’s grateful to have me.
Someone like Kirill will always be an authoritarian monster with skewed views of the world, but he makes me feel like I’m the center of his world.
The one person he looks for every morning and hugs to sleep every night.
The one person he tells everything to, whether it’s brotherhood business or his family business.
He didn’t only make me his wife and partner with words but also with his actions.
He also offered me the official position of his counselor if that’s what I want.
Without leaving my lips, he drags me to the sofa and lays me on top, his large hands groping me everywhere. I’m so hypersensitive that I moan from each touch. He pulls back and I’m slammed by the passionate, animalistic look in his eyes.
“I’ve been trying.” He unbuckles his belt and releases his hard cock. “I’ve been really trying to take it easy on you, but you’re making it impossible, Solnyshko.”
I inch up my dress and slide down my panties, then kick them away and part my legs as far as possible. My pussy is throbbing wet as I palm his cheek. “I never asked you to take it easy on me.”
“Is that so?”
I bite his lower lip and then release it with a pop. “Fuck me, Luchik.”
That’s all the invitation he needs as he thrusts all the way inside in one go. I’m tight, and the friction feels so good.
“You want it like this, wife?” he asks against my throat, then bites down. “You want me to fuck you like an animal?”
“Yes, yes…” I hold on to him and jerk my hips.
“You’re driving me fucking insane.” He wraps his hand around my throat and goes deeper, harder, giving me the stimulation I’ve been begging for.
Yes, he gives me orgasms, but mostly by eating me out or stimulating me. He usually doesn’t want to go to these lengths.
If I’d known all I had to do was provoke him, I would’ve done this ages ago.
My legs tense, and I bite onto his neck as I come with a muffled scream. Kirill goes on, pounding into me with delicious intensity until he finds his own peak.
“I love you, Luchik,” I whisper against his neck as we bask in the afterglow.
He runs his finger over the tattoo with his name on it, then kisses my belly. “I love you more, Solnyshko.”
“No way in hell.”
He pulls out, tucks himself back in, and changes positions so that I’m sitting on his lap. He doesn’t care that I’m messing up his pants with the evidence of our pleasure that’s dripping from between my thighs.
“I got your name tattooed on me,” I say.
“Why do you think I have too many suns tattooed on my skin? Besides…” He unbuttons his shirt and traces his fingers over the tattoos he got on top of his gunshot wound.
I lean closer, and my eyes widen. All this time, I thought it was a sun and a skull intertwined with lines, but in the middle of it, I read it loud and clear in Russian.
Solnyshko’s.
Like our rings.
“I also got your name tattooed on me.”
“How…” I swallow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you would’ve noticed it by now.”
“I didn’t know it was a word.”
“You do now.”
I lean over and kiss the tattoo, but more the scar from the bullet. “No one will be able to hurt you anymore. I promise.”
“I should be the one who says that, wife.”
“Well, I’m capable of protecting you, too, husband.”
“For now, worry about protecting yourself.” He sits me down on the sofa, then lifts my feet and removes my flats. “See? I told you the swelling had gotten worse.”
Like every day, he places my feet on his lap and rubs them with slow, soothing circles.
I release a contented sigh and lean my head back to enjoy the sensation.
“How many times do I have to tell you that whenever you feel them getting more swollen, let me know, Sasha? If I don’t check regularly, you become like this.”
“It’s okay. They don’t hurt that much.”
He shakes his head and continues with his task for more than fifteen minutes. Once he’s done, he helps me stand up, and I freeze as I feel something wet splashing down my thighs and then onto Kirill’s shoes.