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)
I lift my head so my chin is no longer balancing on my chest when Alek mutters, “Same fucking thing.” When he spots my stitched brows, he shakes his head. “You are so fucking clueless, so let me help a brother out…” He stands, shoves the food tray for Katie into my chest, then heads down the hall, his strut undeniable. “Feed your girl. She’s hungry.” I wish I had my gun still pointed at him when he cranks his neck back and murmurs, “If you want that to be your cum, I’m sure she’ll be down for it. Women don’t scream like that when any fool’s head is between their legs.”
I wait until Katie’s porridge is on the verge of being uneatable before I man the fuck up and enter her room. Unsurprisingly, she is in the shower. Shockingly, I let her shower in peace. I could leave altogether, but Katie is a stubborn fuck. Alek has threatened her every day the past three days to eat, and half the time he left with more food on him than in Katie’s stomach.
“No tantrums today, маленький ягненок. I’m not in the fucking mood.”
Katie freezes in the doorway of the bathroom before shooting her eyes around the space, searching for an answer as to how I knew she was approaching when her footsteps were soundless.
I know when she is near because I can smell her.
Her scent isn’t unique, every woman in this compound uses the same shampoo and conditioner. Katie’s is the only one with extra added ingredients. I thought having her smell like me every time she washed her hair would be enough to get over my anger that Kirill’s sperm was inside her after me, but I needed more.
I wanted my cum coating her head to toe, so what her conditioner wouldn’t take care of, I fixed by smearing my cum into her breasts, stomach, and thighs. I wasn’t meant to wake her, but the little moans she released when I rubbed her nipple through her nightie made my urge for her stronger than the sedatives I slip into her food to knock her out.
Excluding her hair, I don’t usually touch her when she is asleep.
But as I said earlier, I fucked up momentously.
“They made your fav—”
“I’m not hungry.”
Slowly and angrily, I raise my eyes to her face. My lips twitch when I realize she’s washed her hair, but not an ounce of pleasure is heard in my tone when I say, “It may be a little much, but I’m not leaving until you’ve finished at least half of what I’ve arrived with.”
“I’m. Not. Hungry.”
My fuse is short, but only Katie can make it the size of an ant.
She doesn’t flinch when I send the salt and pepper shaker across the room. Why would she? I pegged them nowhere in the direction of where she’s standing. “You will eat.” I stand, silencing any reply I see firing in her eyes. “Or I’ll force it down your throat with my cock.”
Katie smiles a grin that would make any man’s cock twitch before she saunters across the room. Her skin is glistening, her hips are swinging, and even though I can smell my cum intermingled with her conditioner, the smell of her cunt is even more prominent.
It takes my focus off the task at hand—her malnourished frame when she first arrived—long enough for her to flip the tray on the table, spilling all the contents onto the floor. “I’m. Not. Hungry.”
I blame my reflexes for my quick grab of her throat, but in reality, it is my drug-fucked head. I say I can’t think without them, but it is more that I hate the responses given, so I drown them out instead of acknowledging them.
As Katie’s pulse thuds the length of my hand, I drag my thumb over her lip. It is swollen like it’s kiss-swollen, but on closer inspection, I realize they’re grazed from the number of times she’s run her teeth over them. “Why are you fighting me?” When her lips remain still, I slant in so close there isn’t a wisp of air between us. “I shouldn’t have forced myself onto you. I fucked—”
I stop talking when the slightest ruffle hits my ear. It isn’t Katie’s struggling for breaths. My hand is curled around her throat, but I’m not applying any pressure. She’s speaking in hushed whispers.
When I lean back, certain I didn’t hear what I think I did, she stares straight into my eyes before slinging them to the heater vent. For a man with no reason to be suspicious, nothing is out of the ordinary. Only someone who lives their life under the spotlight would notice that the screws don’t match. Two are white, and two are silver—shiny and new.
Katie’s pulse thuds when I shift my focus back to her. Her sneer has returned, but nothing but silent begs beam from her eyes.