Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
When I looked up at him, all I saw was intense need reflected in his gaze. His jaw was tight, with dark scruff covering his cheeks and chin. I found it immensely sexy that this man was reining in his control. Because of me.
And then as if everything happened in slow motion, he sank down. My heart beat overtime, faster than I even thought possible given it already felt like a racehorse lived in my chest cavity.
“W-what are you doing?”
He looked up at me with fire burning in his gaze and let his fingers skate over the backs of my legs, up my thighs, and tightened the digits around my pleated skirt.
My inner muscles clenched, shooting a shock wave of unadulterated lust straight to my center.
“Getting a proper taste of you.” His accent was thicker, his voice deeper.
I should’ve told him no. This was so wrong. I felt this rush of power as I stood above him, looking down as he knelt before me. I felt like his queen.
But he didn’t lift my skirt right away. He leaned in and buried his face between my legs and inhaled deeply, a harsh rumble leaving him that had a little mewl leaving my mouth.
God, this man. He was so powerful and big, and I felt so weak around him.
I placed my hands on his shoulders, the muscles so tight and firm underneath his jacket. I wanted us naked, bodies pressed together. I wanted to feel the power I knew lay just underneath his veneer of civility, breaking away as he thrust inside of me to find his pleasure.
And I wanted to give him that. I wanted to be the vessel that he took out his sexual need on, that he filled up.
Holy shit. I wanted that so badly.
“Jesus, baby. You smell so good.” His face was still buried between my thighs, my panties and skirt blocking him from really getting in there deep. And I realized I wanted that desperately, so much that I started parting my thighs a little. The material of my skirt slipped farther between my legs, and he leaned in more, pressing his face tighter against my pussy.
He rumbled again and murmured, “You smell just like mine.”
I moved my hands and gripped the windowsill as he slipped his fingers back down to the hem of my skirt and slowly pushed it up. He was meticulous, as if he thought I’d tell him no or maybe stop this. That was the furthest thing from my mind.
Dmitry pulled back and our gazes clashed as he inched the fabric higher and higher until it rested on my hips. He didn’t say what he wanted, but I knew exactly what to do—I gripped my skirt, keeping myself bared to him as he finally tore his focus from my face and looked at what was revealed.
I could feel something shift in him, changing to become volatile and dark and dangerous. And I latched on to it. It absorbed into my skin and made me liquefied.
When he leaned in again to bury his face between my thighs, I felt his hands grip my ass cheeks, his fingers digging into the flesh so hard it hurt in the best of ways. He pulled the flesh apart before letting them fall back into place, the mounds shaking from the sudden motion.
I knew there’d be marks tomorrow. I wanted proof of his ownership on my body. I wanted everybody to see that I was his and he was mine.
God, my thoughts were ludicrous, but I couldn’t stop them. They were a freight train that had derailed.
He looked up at me, his hand tensing on my thigh. There was an unspoken communication passing between us. He was asking permission, but then I also knew he wasn’t. I knew this big Russian would do whatever he wanted, and God did that turn me on.
When I said nothing, he groaned, dragging his tongue across the center of my panties. I should’ve felt humiliated, knowing I was soaking wet, my arousal smearing across his face. But he kept nuzzling me as if he wanted that, as if he wanted my scent to be smeared all over him.
My fingers were wrapped around the material of my skirt so tightly my bones ached. I was afraid if I let the fabric drop, he’d stop his erotic torture.
“Ask me nicely to lick your pussy.”
A tortured cry left me, and I bit my lip so hard I felt the skin break, tasting the metallic tang of blood.
Dmitry lifted his hand and smoothed the pad along my bottom lip. He pulled his hand back and held the finger between us so I saw redness smeared across it. While holding my gaze, he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked on the digit, licking his skin clean and groaning deeply.