Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“How does it feel to hear me defile you, Natalia?” he breathed in my ear.
“Call me Natasha,” I said, the name he’d used in the nightclub. Natalia was his past, his bride, his future, but Natasha was just his toy. It would be easier for both of us to think of me that way.
But he said, “No, Natalia.” He gripped my hand more tightly and my fingers stroked my clit as we moved together. “Your pussy and your ass will stretch to fit me, and it will be your sweet, pouty lips that suck me sloppy—until I explode down your throat.”
My body shook with an impending explosion, his hot and profane mouth putting my climax within reach.
He removed the sweet, pulsing pressure against my clit and used his index finger to swipe mine against the crotch of my underwear. Missing the weight between my legs and taken aback by how wet I was, I sucked in a breath.
“I suspect I’m the first man to soak your underwear clean through.” He withdrew both our hands and brought them to his mouth to suck on my dewy finger. “Mmm. My first taste of heaven. I imagine it will inspire a thirst so deep, even drinking from you every day wouldn’t satisfy it.” His chest rumbled against my back. “I wonder if the same will be true when an angel like you drinks from the devil,” he mused, as if perusing a menu and trying to decide on a lunch order. “Will you come to crave it? Or will you do it just to please me?”
Adrenaline pulsed in me with the blood rushing through my veins. “Or will I spit it out?”
He answered with a sinister chuckle. “You think you can only drink from your mouth?” he asked. “I will spill myself into all your holes, and I won’t relent until your body has drunk every last drop I have to give. Until you’re mine through and through.”
I was going to climax just from his words. I needed to. The ache firmly rooted in the depths of my tummy cried for more. I tried to put my hand back down my pants, but he lowered it to the bed, pressing it into the mattress in front of my eyes. “Final rule,” he said in my ear. “Your orgasms are mine. You will not come until you ask for it. Until I stick my cock in you and tell you to.”
He rolled away as shudders of pent-up frustration quaked through me. I opened my mouth to protest, but what could I say? Was I willing to ask for it? That was what he wanted. And I had no doubt—once I asked, he’d make me beg.
His breathing evened out within moments, and he fell asleep as if it were nothing at all, leaving me wide awake and alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my vibrating need, my longing for release was so agonizing, I almost wished I’d just broken down and asked.
That I’d begged for my own destruction.
12
Natalia
The cicadas’ song vibrated the heavy air. Sweat trickled from my temples and under my breasts as I stood on dry grass, trying to mirror Alejandro’s stance as he droned on about the importance of stability during a fight.
If my self-defense lessons with Cristiano were equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, the ones with Alejandro were downright yawn-worthy. He was lucky he was so easy on the eyes, because he spoke in a monotone, without inflection. And he never got too close to me.
Cristiano was such a master of diversion that a few nights before, I’d forgotten to feel relieved that he was leaving town and I’d get some measure of freedom from him. For days, I’d mostly just read by the pool, watched TV or movies, and snacked.
The air was thick, as if polluted and dirty, even though I hadn’t seen one car within the Badlands’ walls aside from those in Cristiano’s flock. A need for relief weighed on the sky. Things seemed desolate, as if it hadn’t rained in years, even though it just had.
I massaged my side through a cramp. My period had just started, and even though I was bloated and disgusting, everything seemed to turn me on since Cristiano had left me aching.
The more I tried not to think about him turning my own fingers against me or the orgasm he’d denied me, the hotter I got. That uneased throb spurred me on, and as my hormones went haywire, each day I wished Cristiano would return and finish the job he’d started. One firm touch between my legs had inspired all kinds of things in me, but when I’d tried to replicate it in the shower the next morning, it’d simply felt like touching two body parts together. No fire, no easy walk to the brink of pleasure.