Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Put your palms on the window.”
Ambrielle complied slowly, but without real hesitation.
He slid his foot between hers and widened her stance, one hand on her back between her shoulder blades, pushing her head down so she was forced to bend over. He kicked at her ankle, forcing her to spread her legs more. “That’s it. That’s where I want you. Don’t move. Stay just like that.”
He cupped her left ass cheek with his palm, stroked it and then slid his hand lower to test between her legs. She was already slick and hot for him. She hadn’t been lying. “You were thinking about me, weren’t you, princess?” That surprised him. Maybe he’d gotten more than lucky, and his new little wife was the kind of woman who was very turned on by rough. He hoped so, because he didn’t know—or care for—any other way.
Ambrielle could barely think, her mind in complete chaos. She had thought of her parents when she ripped the bloody wedding dress from her body and kicked it into the corner of the bathroom along with her high heels and torn nylons. She showered for what seemed hours, crying for her parents until she thought there were no more tears in her body left to shed. Then, while she filled the deep bathtub with hot water and the fragrant bath oil she’d found on the granite sink, she thought about how she was going to put a bullet right between the eyes of Gleb, Denis and Walker Thompson.
She didn’t want to think about all the other women Master had brought to this particular room to have bath oils sitting right there on the sink in an ornate bottle. The tub was beautiful and located, strangely enough, right off the master bedroom, meaning she could stare right at the bed as she took her bath.
She had laid her head back and forced her mind to think about nothing but Master. She didn’t want to think about her parents anymore. Or the disastrous wedding Thompson had tried to force her into. The bodies lying on the chapel floor as she’d married Master. She’d forced him into marriage. Clearly, he hadn’t been happy at the idea and had done just about everything he could to talk her out of it.
Ambrie had filled her mind with the look of Master. All that dense muscle and hard strength. His eyes. Those killer eyes. There wasn’t anything soft about him. He had big hands, scars on them. Tattoos on them. Tattoos crawled up his neck. There was something about the way he towered over her, the wideness of his shoulders, as if he could block out the world with his body and take over. It was the rawness of him and that feral, predatory look, almost a cruelness in him that drew her like a magnet. Just thinking about him made her slick with heat.
She had concentrated on that. Thought about the way his kiss had turned her inside out. So hot her brain had incinerated. That bulge in his trousers had been more than impressive—in fact, maybe a little intimidating, but it was all hers now. She wanted him. She was going to claim him. Have him. Keep him. This was her wedding night, and she wasn’t going to sleep. Or let him sleep. She wasn’t about to think of anything but sex. Raw, beautiful, hot sex, and he’d better be good at it. Good enough to keep her from thinking about anything but him all night.
“Asked you a question. Expect an answer.”
The hard authority in his voice unexpectedly turned her on even more. Ordinarily, she would have told him to go to hell, but bent over, his hand on her ass and his fingers circling her clit and then stroking her scorching slit sent a fresh flood of warm liquid to coat his fingers.
“Yes. I told you I was.” It was all she could do not to push onto his fingers. She was beginning to feel desperate, and she didn’t even know why. Was it just the fantasies she’d conjured up? Could her own mind be making her feel this way when she’d never once wanted another man other than with a fleeting moment of interest? Nothing like this wildfire out of control?
Then he was on his knees, his wide shoulders shoved between her legs, his mouth replacing his fingers without any warning whatsoever. His tongue stabbed deep, lashing and scooping, finding her hidden secret nerve endings, already sensitive beyond anything she’d ever known or imagined. The sensation was absolutely shattering, tearing her mind apart. He wasn’t gentle. He was rough in his claiming, merciless, nearly snarling as he devoured her.
Ambrielle didn’t know how to feel, her body coiling tight so fast, the pressure building and building until it threatened to destroy her. She tried to buck him off, pushing back against the glass, rocking her hips to dislodge him. At the same time, she never wanted him to stop. Nothing had felt like the sensations he was giving her. He just needed to slow down and let her process, let her catch her breath. She couldn’t even tell him that, it was just so much.