Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
My heart pounds, and I think Kirill might have the ability to pry my skin open to get his answers. I have to constantly remind myself that no matter how godly he is, that’s not something he can actually do.
“That part of my life doesn’t concern you,” I say simply, softly enough for the words to come out as a plea.
“A name, Sasha. I won’t repeat myself another time.”
I purse my lips.
Tension drifts off Kirill in waves, accentuated by his tightening grip on my wrists. For a moment, I think he’ll break them or something, but then he lifts me up by them.
I’m stunned into silence when he releases my hands, removes my jacket, and rips open my shirt. The buttons scatter on the bed and roll onto the floor.
My breasts tingle beneath my chest bandages, and my nipples harden to painful buds.
There must be something wrong with me, because even though I know he’s mad, I still like his rough side. A part of me yearns for it while another part is scared of it.
The fact remains, if this will keep his mind off the current topic, then all I can do is let it happen.
Soon after, my bandages are gone with a fast maneuver of his strong, veiny hands. My breasts bounce free, and my nipples pulse with need.
He then unbuckles my belt and pushes away my pants and boxer briefs so that I’m sitting completely naked on the bed.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been naked in front of him, but I still get that pang of doubt around him. I’ve always wanted someone, anyone, to see me as a woman. Sure, I didn’t sign up for it to be this unfeeling monster, but he happens to be the only one who discovered my identity.
And for some reason, I want to be beautiful to him. I want him to kiss me like he can’t get enough of me, like he did in his office the other day.
I love when Kirill kisses me. That’s the only time he feels more like a man than a monster.
My thoughts scatter when he grabs me by the wrist and hauls me off the bed. I stumble and nearly fall, but his grip keeps me upright. I have to jog to keep up with his wide strides as he leads me to the en-suite bathroom.
The strong white light blinds me as the sparkling marble counter and giant mirror come into view.
He pushes me against the sink and stands behind me with the eeriness of the Grim Reaper.
His eyes flash to a scary darkening blue that resembles an angry ocean. I don’t even focus on the fact that I’m stark naked while he’s fully clothed. All I see in the mirror is an entity of violence.
He releases my wrist just to close his hand around my throat from behind. The grip is firm enough that I go to my tiptoes, but it’s not meant to steal my breath.
This is a grip of control. So I know exactly who’s in charge of this situation.
His other hand drifts over my hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake, then disappears between my throbbing thighs. Two of his fingers thrust inside my core, and I go still.
My skin turns red, and I’m forced to see every detail of my embarrassment in the mirror in front of us.
I have to see the two whitening scars on my side from the massacre and the ugly hole in my shoulder from when I was shot.
When I try to shift my attention to the floor, Kirill uses his grip on my neck and lifts it up.
“You’re going to watch me own every part of you so you understand that you’re completely mine.”
He thrusts a third finger in, stretching me so fully that I can’t focus on anything but his touch. He scissors his fingers inside me, and a burst of pleasure floods through me. My toes curl, and my heart beats so fast, it’s scary.
Kirill’s pace verges on madness as he pounds his fingers into me with heightened intensity. My eyes close halfway, and I want to look away from the storm that’s about to take me over, but I can’t.
The longer I’m swallowed in his icy eyes, the more light-headed I become. He teases my clit in two expert strokes, and I’m a goner.
I come with a deep moan and would fall forward if it weren’t for Kirill’s hold.
“That’s it, Solnyshko. Show me how much you want me.” His voice falls against my ear in a grunt before he bites down on the flesh.
My thighs shake, and the orgasm seems to heighten and draw out in both length and intensity. It’s like his words are an aphrodisiac.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m too conditioned to the way he calls me his sun.
Why would a monster need a sun?