Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
It is the affection he portrays. The love.
It is how he will always place me first even when I wish he wouldn’t.
I dig the heels of my feet into Andrik’s ass as a climax bursts through me. My cries of orgasm echo around the bathroom, doubling the speed of his pumps. As I shatter like glass, he continues thrusting into me.
His pace increases with every long plunge until the adoration I’m hitting him with becomes too much for him to bear.
He balances his forehead on mine, aligns our eyes, then sinks in low before giving in to the waves of ecstasy barreling into him.
“Fuck,” he shouts as he fights the urge to still his hips.
He continues rocking, pumping, stealing the last of the air in my lungs. He fucks me wildly and recklessly until stars blister for the second time and I’m on the verge of an orgasmic coma.
“Fuck, милая.” With sweaty hands, he cups my flushed cheeks and raises my head before pressing his lips to mine. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to ruin me.” He drags his nose down the side of my cheek, stopping my heart. “Yet I still signed up for it like a schmuck with half a cock.”
As his fingertips tickle the backs of my ears, he breathes life back into my body with a heart-stuttering kiss. He licks at my lips and nibbles on my jaw as I fight not to surrender to the madness so soon again after only recently being freed from it.
Regretfully, I am as stubborn as a mule.
Andrik freezes with his tattooed fingers knotted in my hair when I ask, “What did you mean when you said they made out I was your blood?”
EPILOGUE
ZOYA
One and a half years later…
Huge blue eyes find me across the room before they’re stolen by the bubble maker Andrik cursed to hell this morning. I swear he was on the verge of firing at it with his gun before Mikhail took over the reins of setting up the decorations for Amaliya’s first birthday party.
I’m not upset I am not picked first this time.
Amaliya is obsessed with bubbles. It is almost on par with her father’s obsession with me, which pushes my devastation at being disregarded like a broken toy to the background of my mind.
Andrik has been greeting our guests for the past hour, but not a single second has passed without me feeling the heat of his gaze. He watches me as intently now as he did when he aired his family’s dirty laundry in the bathroom of one of his many country mansions.
Or should I say my family’s dirty laundry.
I won’t lie. It was a fight not to respond negatively when Andrik explained why he had been so cold and distant after our romp in the cabana, but the attraction that forever fires between us was strong enough to slacken the churns of my stomach to manageable in under a minute.
I was wary of Dr. Leverington’s death confessions—conscious some men will say anything to stay alive—but learned soon after our reunion that every secret he exposed was true.
I am Kazimir Ellis Dokovic’s eldest daughter, and Mikhail is his firstborn son. My family lineage is centuries long. I have brothers and sisters and dozens of cousins.
Every family member I have unearthed over the past eighteen months has stripped another member from Andrik’s rapidly dwindling family tree, yet he doesn’t seem to care.
How could he when our son is running across the manicured lawns of his palatial mansion, kicking a soccer ball, while our daughter woos her party guests with her two-teeth grin?
A life no longer under the federation’s thumb is all Andrik has ever wanted.
His grandfather gave him that wish, and a newly formed government is keeping it.
The federation didn’t keep Andrik’s lineage hidden solely to force his grandfather to toe the line. Andrik’s wish to return his family’s name to the notoriety it once held was founded centuries ago. His mother’s direct bloodline with Russian royalty is why the federation shifted Luiza’s title from Andrik Sr.’s mistress to his eldest’s son’s wife.
Ellis and Luiza’s union was never about love. It was for an heir Luiza struggled to conceive since she was diagnosed with a heart condition similar to Zakhar’s just shy of her eighteenth birthday.
Under the guidance of the federation’s chief doctor, she sought assistant from a holistic doctor who specialized in fertility issues. The story gets a little murky from there.
Some say they fell in love. Others say Dr. Holtz was so obsessed with Luiza that he switched Ellis’s sperm for his own.
Andrik believes both versions of the story.
To him, love and obsession are the same thing.
I startle when a familiar voice drags me from my reminiscing. “Are these ready to go out?”
A dress with a price tag heavier than its flawless design swishes around my thighs when I spin to face Nikita. Although the USB drive Andrik Sr. handed to Andrik before his suicide exonerated me of any wrongdoing in Yulia’s murder, I still confessed my sins to Nikita.