Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“But you like it, don’t you,” she purred breathlessly. He had already freed his cock from his trousers and in the next second, Mykolas had again ripped her panties away, the torn pieces joining her discarded purse on the floor. She pretended to sigh despondently. “Panty Ripper.” But the words were barely out of her mouth before she gasped, his cock sliding home into her already wet pussy.
Mykolas didn’t bother talking, fully focused on fucking Velvet hard. He kept his eyes on her all the time as he shoved his cock in and out of her, loving the way her own eyes became unfocused with desire. He loved those little whimpers she did, knowing she only ever made those sounds for him.
His cock still inside her pussy, he carried her towards the counter and flipping her to her chest, Mykolas bent her halfway so he could enter her from behind. “Hold tight.”
Velvet did as ordered, and thank God she did because this time Mykolas wasn’t holding back. He pounded into her so hard and good she could no longer make a sound. He had turned into a rutting beast, his hands squeezing her breasts hard, and oh God, she couldn’t get enough of it.
Even the slapping sounds of his balls against her thighs was hypnotic, and so were the wet plopping sounds that his cock made each time it shoved into her tight and quivering pussy. Soon, she couldn’t stop gasping, her heart racing, her body tightening and tightening—-
Mykolas gripped one bare cheek hard before reaching under her to pinch her clit. “Come for me, my love.”
My love.
Velvet screamed, Mykolas’ unexpected words triggering her release, and she kept screaming as Mykolas roared her name from behind, hot sticky come bursting out of his cock and flooding her until they started dripping down her thighs.
She knew of course that ‘my love’ translated to ‘agape mou’ in Greek, and that the latter was a common endearment. But tonight was the first time he had said the words in English, and God, how those words made her feel so...loved.
Inner turmoil had Mykolas stiff. He had a hard time believing he had called Velvet ‘my love’. He hoped she would not read anything in it. The words were an endearment. He repeated this to himself several times as if trying to convince himself. She was a fool to think it was anything other than that. And he would be a greater fool to worry if she did. It was not his problem if she did. What they would have tomorrow was a marriage of convenience – and nothing more than that.
Mykolas was quiet as he cleaned her, wetting his handkerchief to wipe away the come from her still sensitive flesh and her thighs. Seated on the counter, Velvet looked down at Mykolas and said, “It’s okay.”
Slowly, he lifted his head. “What’s okay?”
Her lips twisted. “I’m not the kind to beat around the bush, so I’ll just say it as it is. It’s okay that you said something you might not have meant. I get it, Mykolas.” She forced a smile. “You didn’t mean it when you called me ‘my love’, and it’s cool.”
Mykolas only spoke when he was done cleaning her and was back on his feet. “I never thought I’d say this, but...” He kissed her softly on the lips. “I’d rather you call me an ‘asshole’.”
Velvet blinked, then a laugh escaped her as the tension in the air noticeably lessened. She said obediently, “Asshole. You motherfucking goddamn asshole.”
“That was a little bit more than I asked for, agape mou,” Mykolas asked with a wince as he helped her down the counter.
“Consider it a bonus,” she replied promptly.
She and Mykolas were both quiet as they stepped out, the two of them busy with their thoughts that they were completely oblivious to the line of gaping women queuing to use the ladies’. When they reached their seats by the bar, Mykolas ordered a drink right away. Velvet took her phone out, checking for incoming mail or messages, but it was really to distract herself from the fact that she was a BIG FAT LIAR.
She was cool with Mykolas Sallis not meaning to call her his love?
Like she said, big fat—-
The breath was knocked out of her, and the rest of her thoughts completely disappeared when she realized the unread email in her inbox was from her lawyer, Lester Wilkins. He was a dear old man, having taken her on pro bono when she was eighteen and without a clue as to what to do with her life.
I have received a letter from Mr. Garfield, forwarded by his lawyer. I have, of course, reviewed the contents and it is my professional opinion – as well as that of a surrogate father to you – that you do not bother with it. But of course, it is still your right to read it if you wish, and I have scanned the content in the event that you prove stubborn and disregard my advice.