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)
He cupped my cheeks, dragging his nose along the side of my face, inhaling deeply. He brought his mouth to my ear and murmured gruffly, “Ty zastavlyayesh demonov vnutri menya sheptat, a ne rychat.” You make the demons inside of me whisper instead of roar.
I didn’t know what he’d said, but I felt how much he meant them.
He slanted his mouth on mine, kissed me so passionately, so deeply it was reminiscent of when he fucked me. I should have been embarrassed that he was all but fucking my face in front of everyone, but I wanted to just melt into him and take it all.
When he broke away, he was breathing hard. “Tonight”—he brushed his lips against mine, saying those words only loud enough that I heard them—“I’m going to fuck you as my wife.”
Chapter 38
Claudia
We’d all gone to lunch after the ceremony, some swanky French place with a massive crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the large room and everyone dressed like they were going to the opera.
So when I walked in wearing a wedding dress, even a low-key one, I didn’t stand out.
The owner came out from the back to greet us, shaking Nikolai’s and Dmitry’s hands, his grin splitting wide when the two Russians shook his hand. It was clear this man thought the sun rose and set with the two of them.
He led us to a table, assuring us it was the best one in his restaurant, and then snapped his fingers. He had the waitstaff bustling over, pouring artisan water, making sure the place settings were perfect, and then said a slew of French to them that had each of them rushing off.
It all seemed a little over-the-top, but when I looked at the owner's face, I could see him still grinning ear to ear. He clearly liked doting on the two mobsters.
We weren’t given menus, but then again, a place like this was five-star, serving four-course meals specially prepared by a chef. Wineglasses were set in front of Tatiana and me. Liquor was poured for the men, and water for Amara and Luca and the rest of the table.
Dmitry wasn’t subtle when he pulled out my chair and purposefully pulled it close to his. Our thighs touched, and his heat and the spicy scent of him wrapped around me.
He threw his arm over the back of my chair, the tips of his fingers lightly stroking the bare skin of my arm.
I glanced at him from underneath my lashes, amazed that this had actually happened. I was now Mrs. Dmitry Petrov. I’d never seen myself realistically in this situation, and a flutter of butterflies took flight in my belly. The feeling of euphoria that settled heavily inside of me was what I assumed someone high off opioids felt like.
I picked up my wineglass just as I felt Dmitry’s hand slide along my shoulder, over the length of my back, and settle on the top of my leg. He let it sit there for a few seconds before he smoothed his palm down to rest on my knee. And then he pulled my leg open so he could slip his hand between my thighs.
My heart started beating harder and faster with his ascent.
And the entire time he touched me, he kept light conversation with Nikolai. He pushed the fabric of my dress all the way up my leg so he could skim his fingers over my bare skin. I darted my gaze around the table, but no one acted as if anything out of the ordinary was happening.
And the entire time, my husband kept moving his fingers over the edge of my panties, teasing that spot where my leg and pussy met.
I placed my hand on top of his, trying to stop him, but all he did was tighten his fingers against my flesh, letting me know he was stronger, more determined, and this would happen whether I wanted it to or not.
God, that turned me on.
Fire licked across my skin. Being in the middle of a restaurant that was filled with patrons and sitting at a table with my family should’ve been like cold water on my arousal.
But I realized my mind and body didn’t care about any of that when it concerned my husband and him making me feel good.
Two waitresses came by with trays full of the first course. I thought Dmitry would stop teasing me then, but when I went to clench my legs together, silently telling him we couldn’t keep doing this, all he did was exact pressure and open me back up.
He ran his finger down the center of my pussy, gently pressing the fabric against my opening.
I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to act normal, like I didn’t have his fingers pressing on my pussy.