Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’m. . . yes, I’m curious.”
Christ.
“Spread your legs,” I rasp out.
Without a word, she complies, squeezing her eyes shut, perhaps to deny the reality of her own desires. Yet, I’ve learned enough about her to know that Vera’s solitude doesn’t mask her fiery spirit. A woman of her passion deserves a counterpart who worships her ferocity.
Leaning over, I prop myself on one arm and breathe in her scent—spring flowers blended with the crispness of autumn rain. Her pulse throbs under my lips; her sharp gasp fills the silence.
“Tell me exactly how you feel right now.”
“So, so turned on, Markov. Damn you,” she breathes out in a choked whisper.
I cup her ass, and she gasps. “I just disciplined you for such language, Vera. Was my message not clear?”
She whimpers softly. “You made your point.” Her voice is laced with feigned protest and genuine desire.
“Get on your back,” I command. The raw urgency to taste her is overwhelming, yet I restrain myself, remembering her innocence. My hands, however, can’t resist exploring the fullness of her breasts.
“Touch yourself,” I murmur. “Let me see.”
Clumsily, she pulls her panties to the side and reaches down to her slick folds just as I release one of her breasts from her bra and lick the peaked nub. Her body jerks, a cry escaping her lips.
Mine.
“You’re my wife, Vera,” I whisper, caught up in the moment’s authenticity. For a second, I forget our pretense, lost in the primal need to claim her.
I move her hand aside, replacing it with mine, feeling her warmth and arousal. Her voice breaks as my finger explores her.
“Markov,” she pleads, lost for words as pleasure overwhelms her.
“Mine,” I growl, my voice rough. “You chose this path. You were the one who said we were married. You were the one who confessed her longing to be commanded. Don’t pretend you don’t crave this now.”
Her hips rise in response, a silent, primal affirmation of her desires. I tease her relentlessly, drawing her close to the brink then halting. I savor the catch of her breath. Pausing, I hold my breath and hers in the balance.
“Umolai menya. Beg me.”
Her voice breaks in a desperate plea. “Oh. . . God. Please, don’t stop, Markov. Please.”
“Beg me harder. I want to know you mean it. Convince me.”
“Please, keep going. I’ll—I’ll do anything. I did what you said. You told me you were my husband, isn’t this what a husband does? Isn’t this what I need? Oh, God! Please!”
I indulge her, a small stroke sending her arching off the bed. Her body’s silent plea is deafening.
“Will you behave now?”
“Yes, yes, yes! Please!”
“Good girl,” I praise, a lazy stroke rewarding her compliance. “That’s what I want to see. You please me so much. Such a good, sweet girl you are.” I kiss her cheek and stroke her again. “Come on my fingers, Vera. I want to watch you.”
I take her mouth with mine as she detonates beneath me. I give one more stroke, easing her through the spasms of pleasure. I continue until her climax washes over her, uncontrolled and raw. She clings to the ecstasy, her cries muffled by my kiss, her pleasure mingling with my being.
She collapses, spent. My fingers linger, savoring the last touch.
Gently, I lay her against the pillows, her eyes hazy, overwhelmed by what she’s experienced.
“That was beautiful,” I confess softly. “So honest. So free.” I brush a kiss on her forehead.
Silence stretches between us.
“Tell me how you’re feeling now, Vera?”
She looks at me, her eyes earnest when she murmurs, “Scared, Markov.”
I cradle her, stroking her disheveled hair, urging her to share her heart. “Talk to me, Vera.”
She pauses before she speaks, drawing in a ragged breath. She buries her face in the covers and won’t look at me, but she manages to say, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
Jesus.
I turn her around to face me and sit on the edge of the bed with her on my lap. I’ve crossed so far over the line of propriety, there’s no turning back now.
My hard-on presses against her heated ass. I stifle a groan before I continue. “What are you afraid of?”
“I didn’t know what that would feel like,” she whispers. “I’m afraid that if we keep. . . If I. . .”
She tries to look away, but I bring her chin back. Her eyes are back on mine.
“Tell me.”
It seems that small spanking I gave her removed her ability to hide from me because she opens her mouth and the truth spills out.
“If my father finds out, he’ll kill you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Vera
Sharing a room with my fake husband is going to kill me.
I came here to study, not be seduced by the hottest fucking Russian man I’ve ever met in my life.
But it’s the first time I’ve had the chance to get close to a man – and not just any man, but a sexy, dominant one… maybe, for once in my life, I can live a little. I came here to prove myself capable and worthy of the opportunities I’ve been given, determined to break free from the confines of my sheltered upbringing. To forge my own destiny. Why should romance be limited to the pages of a fictional book?