Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
We had a field trip to a farm before summer break. All of our grade was joking about the butter-making experience the entire summer.
Seems as if it wasn’t a joke.
“Your hand feels so much better than mine.” Ghost slows the movement of my hand. “Just slow down a little. You’re meant to suck the marrow from my bones like a dirty whore starved of cum. Not extract it with your hand.”
I don’t get embarrassed. His moans don’t allow room for shame. He’s being playful, and since it is a rare treat, I drink it in as much as his pre-cum.
After a few more minutes, Ghost orders me to sit on the vanity next to us. The glass has been replaced, and not a single shard remains on the tiles.
“But…” I stop myself. Questioning someone’s objection is a habit I will never fully let go.
So is the obedience that was beaten into me.
My temperament changes in an instant, but mercifully, Ghost seems to miss it. After plucking me off the floor and planting my backside onto the vanity, he positions himself between my splayed thighs then rubs the head of his dick through my folds.
A zap bolts through me when a warmth hits my clit. It isn’t spit or a foreign product invented to lube me up. It is a string of cum pumping out of Ghost’s cock. He coats the outside and inside of my pussy, top to bottom, ensuring I am wet enough to take him before he returns his still-throbbing head to my opening.
When he peers down at me before breeching the perimeter that will change everything, I wonder if he’s having the same thoughts as me.
“Are we being selfish?”
I realize I expressed myself out loud when Ghost replies, “Yes. But that’s okay. We’re allowed to be selfish every now and again.”
In an instant, it dawns on me that his captivity has been as long as mine—if not longer—meaning he has every right to be as selfish as me.
“Hold me, маленький ягненок. This is going to hurt.”
Pain splinters through me when he rams in a couple of inches without additional warning. It shreds through me like a wildfire burning and destroying everything it touches.
But it also comes with relief.
I’ve been tormented, taunted, and ridiculed for my virginity every day for the past eight years.
Now they can no longer hold it over my head.
“You’re so fucking tight.” Ghost breathes out heavily before the hand not gripping my hip darts up to my face to brush away my tears. “Дышите сейчас, маленький ягненок.” I don’t realize I’m not breathing until he grips my throat so firmly my body instinctively sucks in a large gulp. “Fucking breathe.”
When he frees my throat from his hold, I gasp in air like I’ve not taken a single breath in years.
It is released with years of torment and even more tears.
“Fuck.” Ghost’s curse this time isn’t in pleasure. He’s either angry or hurt. I don’t know his emotions well enough yet to decipher them.
As he grumbles a string of Russian words under his breath, Ghost pulls his blood-stained cock out of me, gathers me in his arms, then moves for the shower.
Unlike the time Artyom attacked me, he doesn’t wait for the water to reach a perfect temperature before stepping us under the spray. He stands us under the bitterly cold water, allowing me to hide my tears as well as he’d love to hide his scars from the world.
“Дыши, Маленькая Овечка. Вам нечего бояться,” he whispers in Russian, his voice almost drowned out by the water pumping out of the showerhead. “я буду держать тебя в безопасности. Я освобожу тебя.”
“They weren’t wishful thinking.” I lift my head off Ghost’s pec to peer at his face. He can’t hide in the shower. The light is directly above his head. “You spoke those words before. In here.” The shocks keep coming when I recall the grumbled comments he made while twirling my hair around his fingers on the ship. “You—”
Ghost ends any chance of interrogation by whacking the shower faucet off, stepping us out, then wrapping my shuddering frame in a towel.
“Dinner will be served in an hour.” He doesn’t look at me, but the worry swirling in my gut weakens a smidge when he adds, “I will return then to eat with you. Don’t open the door for anyone.”
He leaves before a syllable can escape my lips.
36
GHOST
Kirill pushes his chair back from his desk when I toss a black body bag onto the large, glossy material. It isn’t filled with a body, regretfully. It is every cash, bond, bill, and IOU slip I had in my possession. Since it was too much for a duffle bag, I used the body bag I’ve been saving for him.
The one I plan to bury him in once I get my sister and niece out of this mess.