Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
I pinched my nipples, imagining it was the Russian billionaire doing it—-
AAAAAAAH.
My silent, drawn-out moan bounced against the walls of my mind, and my naked body arched against the covers. The silk over my body brushed tantalizingly against the tips of my breasts, heightening my arousal, and I gasped silently again.
Oh God, Sergei, Sergei, Sergei—-
I reached for my little toy, made the vibration just one level stronger—-
BRRRRRRRRR.
Oh God, oh God.
Sergei.
My eyes rolled back as my body started to tighten, the exquisite sensation painfully and wonderfully familiar.
BRRRRRRRRR.
My legs trembled hard, the inner muscles of my pussy contracting and releasing as it prepared for my release, and God oh God, it was just like having Sergei torment me—-
BRRRRRRRRR.
Sergei.
I could see him in my mind, his beautiful face made harsh with desire.
I could picture his thin, perfect lips moving, could hear his accented voice growling—-
Let me feel your cum.
BRRRRRRRRR.
Pleasure swept over me as I came hard with a silent sob.
My body shook harder and harder with every gush of wetness, and I could feel myself going faint. But even so I didn’t reach for my little toy. I let it vibrate and torture my nub, wanting to prolong my release.
It took a long time for the sensations to fade to nothing, and every tiny bone of my pussy felt used and exhausted by the time I put the toy away. The experience had been good. No, it was great actually, but even so—-
Why did I still feel empty now?
Another month passed. Playing with my “toy” was now a weekly thing, just as stalking Sergei online was. To distract myself, I accepted as many cases as I could and worked overtime every night. My diligence paid off, and I was eventually assigned to a high-profile case that had me representing Nick and Jason Christakos. The two younger Greeks were twins and billionaires in their own right, and if I won their case for them, making it to state attorney was almost a shoo-in.
Once the contract for legal representation was signed and my meeting with the twins over, I called my friends, wanting to celebrate with them but both girls asked for a rain check, with Alyx tied up at work while Anneke was still overseas.
And so it’s just me, I thought glumly. The weather outside the building matched my mood perfectly, with overcast skies and a steady downpour that had me tiredly snapping my bag closed before reaching for my trusty umbrella.
In the past, walking around had been completely out of the question with the way the paparazzi dogged my every step. But it was different now. They had seemed to figure out that I was no longer Sergei’s “Attorney Moneypenny,” and it had been weeks since I last made it to any gossip website.
Stepping past the law firm’s front doors, I snapped my umbrella open, and when I raised it up, the first thing I saw was...him.
I whitened.
Sergei Grachyov gazed at me with inscrutable dark eyes, looking more achingly gorgeous than I allowed myself to remember. He, too, was holding an umbrella, large and sleek and obviously expensive.
Burberry, I thought dazedly. Burberry actually made umbrellas?
“Zdrastvuyte.” His ‘hello’ was spoken quietly, his narrowed gaze trained on my face.
“Zdrastvuyte,” I whispered. I knew I was acting like an idiot. A thirty-year-old idiot, but I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t help staring at him, even knowing that I was being obvious about it. Had he always been this tall? Had he always been this muscular? And had he always been able to make my heart hammer against my chest like it was Thor wielding it?
The silence stretched between us, making me feel terrified and desperate. Please let this be real. Please let him not be a figment of my imagination. Please.
When he started to speak again, I couldn’t help stiffening, already thinking of the worst. He would tell me he hated me. He would tell me he was here because he was looking for another lawyer at the firm, not me. He would—-
And then I heard him ask tautly, “Do you still find my presence undesirable?”
Oh.
Oh!
Tears stung my eyes as I stared at him, knowing he could have made it so much worse. He could have prolonged my misery, maybe even forced me to beg. But he hadn’t. He could have chosen to act petty and immature, the way I had, and he would have had the right to do so.
I choked out, “No.” And before he could say another word, I said brokenly, “I’m sorry.”
The billionaire’s eyes flashed. A second later and he had taken hold of my hand, his grip punishingly tight, and it was exactly the way I wanted it. He was holding on to me like he never wanted to let me go, and I held him just as tightly, feeling the same even though I would never admit it out loud.