Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
My heart hammers in my throat as I strain closer again. His thighs knock my knees wider, stepping into the newly created space. His body comes over mine, pressing me down, down, my bones liquefying as I melt out across the wood.
Melt. Bleed. My arms reach for him, scrabbling against his shoulders as he seals his mouth over mine. He steals my breaths, swallows my gasps. He devours me.
“No one will ever know you like this.” The grit in his tone feels like punishment, the nip of his teeth against my lips sweet relief. His gaze burns down as he links our fingers, pressing them down to my sides, pinning me to the desk as the thick length of his cock demands entrance with each grunting press.
I sigh his name and buck against him, desperate for his touch.
Then his mouth is on mine again, his tongue a declaration: I’m inside you. You’re taking me.
My hips surge against him, and he makes a low carnal sound of appreciation, undulating against me.
“You’re so fucking lovely. You’re like a flower in my hand. I don’t know if I want to curl my fingers to protect you or crush you to smell your scent.”
Pinned beneath him, I thrash and jerk, desperate to touch him—to be touched by him
“Be still.” I groan as his teeth scrape the lobe of my ear. “Don’t move, milaya.”
He pulls back, my brain exiting stage left, taking my sense along with it because I don’t even flinch at the sudden flick of movement in front of me or how the light glints from the sharp blade. I gasp as his hands spans my collarbone, sliding down to the low neckline of my dress. A swift tug and my breasts are exposed, his warm breath spilling over my nipples.
“This is not a dress I ever want to see you in again.”
Down, down, down his hand travels, sliding between my breasts and over the soft slope of my stomach where he pulls at the silk tight.
“But it’s a dress I’ll never forget.”
The knife flicks up, then down, a ripping sound filling the air as he slices my dress from the waist down. He fans the silk over my hips, his finger hooking the elastic of my underwear. I hold my breath at the cold press of steel—once, twice—he slices away my tiny undies from the hip. The knife flips in the air before he stabs it hard into the corner of the desk, where it quivers.
His mouth descends on my nipple like a starving man. His lips fasten, and he sucks as though to chasten, my back bowing from the wood with a moan. His attention feels dark and wild, calling to something in my bones as I wrap my hands in his hair, tightening my fingers on the thick strands.
His groan is my reward, the nip of his teeth my mark of excellence. I repay him in kind, drawing the pointed heel of my shoe up his leg, pressing it into the firm globe of his buttock, causing him to hiss.
“You’re not the only one who can wield a pointy thing,” I rasp, my stomach tightening at his dark and sinful chuckle.
“How about something blunt and thick.” His hand slips between my legs, parting my flesh and finding me wet. With a groan, he thrusts two fingers inside me, the sensation rude, rough, and sublime.
“Oh God!” His finger work is fast, his possession hot as his mouth lowers to mine again. His tongue and fingers work in tandem, licking and flicking, sucking and stroking, driving my pleasure higher and higher until I begin to crest, panting, whimpering—what are those noises coming out of my mouth?
“Oh God. Oh, Niko. Yes, yes! Harder, please.”
“The lady gets what she needs,” he grunts. My back sticks to the wood as he yanks me down to the edge, but I can’t care as I lift my head and watch as he loosens his fly. So rude and ruddy his hand, he presses the thick head of his cock to my folds, sliding back and forth, the blunt weight of him parting me. Making me twist under him, pure animal now.
His breath held, he drives himself inside with a snap of his hips. Pressing, grinding, his expression dark, it seems like he’s trying to climb inside me.
My heart feels like a flock of panicked birds beneath my ribs. I cry out, my arms beginning to flail, the heels of my palms catching him in his chest. This is too much—what we’re—fucking after such revelations. After he killed for me. His possession of me is too much, the things he has done in the name of our love.
“No.” His hands catch mine, pinning them wide. “I won’t apologize,” he grunts, my body tightening as he drives himself inside me again. “I’m not sorry.” A thrust. My body bows. “I’d do it again.” His cock is so deep inside. “You would do it for me. You would kill to protect your family.”