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)
He’s fucking lucky because I would have risen him from the dead and beaten him over and over again if he had.
I’m pissed.
Annoyed as fuck.
And exhausted.
There’s only been one time in my life I’ve sprinted as fast as I did when I saw Artyom chasing Katie. It was the night a little girl entered the world as cruelly as I did. Her cries for help were as weak and pitiful as the ones Katie released when I entered the corridor at the speed of light, but they displayed the same thing.
A wish to live.
She is the reason I’m talking Kirill off the ledge instead of letting him believe Katie was violated. Katie is Lera’s ticket out of this life, and I can’t give it up, no matter how angry I am. Or how fucking hard.
“I was dealing with other matters.” The creak of Kirill’s office chair trills into my ear before he says, “So I need you to check.”
“Again,” I say in my head at the same time he speaks it out loud. “Do you have an issue with my request, Ghost?”
A childish whimper in the background snuffs the reply I want to give him. Instead, I say, “I’ll take her to Grigori.”
Vera’s huff is barely noticeable, but it pisses me off all the same. I glare at her so sternly, she races out of the room as I expected Katie to do when I smashed Artyom’s face in. I never thought she’d run to me in a moment of crisis. I’m not that type of guy. I don’t offer comfort. I issue reasons you need it.
“No need. I trust you,” Kirill murmurs, his voice hitching during his last two words.
I push the phone in close to my ear, certain I heard him wrong. He doesn’t trust anyone—not even men with the same blood as him.
“Report the results directly back to me,” he directs before disconnecting our call.
His wish to leave me hanging is fast but not quick enough for me to miss the feminine voice greeting him. I’d recognize it anywhere, and it switches my anger to annoyance.
Luckily for me, I have someone to take it out on.
Katie’s eyes lift to mine the instant she leaves the bathroom. Her hair is damp and sweet-smelling, her clothing nothing but a teeny towel, and she’s peering at me like I’m her savior.
I’m not.
To save her, I’d have to destroy them.
I’m not willing to do that.
But I’d be a liar if I said the visual of her standing before me drenching wet doesn’t make my cock twitch. She’s so enticing. Looking at any woman after her isn’t the aphrodisiac I regularly sought only days ago. It is cock-softening and adds to the frustration heating my blood.
I’m sick of jumping on cue, but even more than that, I’m sick of spineless women doing the same thing.
They lick when I tell them to lick.
They suck when I tell them to suck.
And they moan when I tell them to moan.
Except Katie.
The marks on her body reveal she had the rules beaten into her, yet she’s still willing to push the boundaries.
That alone makes me tempted as fuck to do the same.
I just can’t.
Simple as that.
So instead, I be the prick I was born to be. “Lay down, маленький ягненок.”
A surging pulse zaps through my body before pooling in my groin when Katie repeats the pledge she made in the shower. “It was the tomato soup I was bringing to you to share.”
When I angle my head to the side and arch a brow, the fight in her eyes ramps up, but she folds only a second later.
Regretfully.
After flattening her back to the mattress, she drops her arms to her sides.
“Now open your towel.”
“I—” She stops, swallows, then pries open the cotton material from her navel down.
“More. I want nothing in my way.”
It is the fight of my life to hide the twitch that hits my lips when she shoots daggers at me before doing as requested. She is as scared as fuck to disobey me but wants to.
The knowledge hardens my cock to the point it’s painful.
I’m not the only one feeding off the tension. The folds of Katie’s cunt can’t hide the wetness shimmering between it, and her nipples are pert and erect.
A less arrogant man would say her glistening folds are leftover residue from her shower. I know better. I could smell her cunt when I bent down to take off her sweatpants. It was begging for me to touch it, and it took everything I had to step back.
I probably wouldn’t have if Katie hadn’t tried to touch my scars. I hate being touched in general, but when it comes to my face, I fucking loathe it.
Katie’s eyes pop when I demand, “Show me what he did to you.”
“Wh-what?”
My growl shudders her thighs more.