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)
I won’t handle the latter.
Jealousy has never been an issue of mine. That could be more because virgins were always my top pick.
I never had an interest in another man’s leftovers.
I can’t say the same now.
I’ll still seek names. It just won’t be until I’ve finished making Zoya scream mine.
I don’t bother hiding my smile when Zoya strives to keep things even between us. “What about you? What’s your count?”
“Does it matter?” I ask while swiping my thumb over her clit.
“Y-yes,” she stammers out, her breathing picking up. “If you know mine, it’s only fair I know yours.”
“There you go with that if again, милая.”
The wetness of her arousal almost drowns out her groan when I work her harder, faster. I toy with her clit until I can add a second finger to the mix without hurting her. Then I return my attention to our conversation.
“If is an uncertainty, a doubt.”
When her back rests on the wall of the elevator as she struggles to fill her lungs with air, I tilt her hips higher, opening her up to me.
“It doesn’t belong between us. This”—I palm my cock, which is throbbing with so much want a circle of wetness is just left of the tip—“this is the only thing between us, and not even it is an uncertainty.” She whimpers desperately when I growl out, “You will take my cock. Every. Hardened. Inch.” Then she shudders when my lips brush the shell of her ear. “And then you’ll thank me for the orgasms that rip through your body by giving me the name of the Долбоеб who did you so wrong you thought abstinence was your only option.” We moan in sync when her pussy clenches around my fingers. “He’s the only one I won’t take my time with. Because if it weren’t for him, my kill count for one night may have notched higher than my one-night body count.”
Zoya’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, brighter and stronger than before.
Or is it jealousy?
We skipped official introductions, so I haven’t paid enough attention to her quirks to be able to decipher them just yet. My sole focus has been on concealing my jealousy.
Since I’ve done a shit fucking job, I stop beating around the bush and get to the point.
“Four is manageable, милая. I can deal with four.” I lean into her so closely her nipples scrape my chest with every breath she takes. “Six?” My tsk rumbles through both our chests before it vibrates my lips. “Don’t test me on six because I can guarantee neither you nor him will survive the outcome.”
8
ZOYA
My life was just threatened by a man with his hand down the front of my panties. The same man who has no qualms announcing he keeps a tally of his bed companions and his kills, yet the only response my body elicits is devastation when he removes his fingers from my pussy and pops the glistening digits into his mouth.
I’ve always been a little wild, but this is batshit crazy.
He threatened my life. I shouldn’t be skimming over that fact. He’s handsome as sin and has desire pulsing through my body in a way it’s never experienced. Still, morals need to enter the equation somewhere. Lust can’t always take center stage.
“I… um. I forgot to remove my phone charger from the port in my car. It’ll drain the battery if I don’t—”
Stupidly, my knees pull together when Andrik growls partway through my excuse to leave.
I wait for the spark it caused to diminish before correcting my error. “It will drain the battery, so I must remove it.”
After licking his fingers clean like they’re coated in cake batter, Andrik tugs down my skirt until it returns to its pre-whore length. Then he places his hand on the curve of my back and guides me out of the elevator.
“I’ll send someone down to do it. Though it won’t really matter. You won’t be driving that piece of shit for much longer.”
“Because?” I ask, too shocked to wade through my confusion alone.
He drops his eyes to mine. They’re still full of the lust that saw me toppling into ecstasy with only the lightest of stimulation, but something deeper and more tangible is darkening them. “Because that make and model isn’t safe. I’ll organize an SUV or a hybrid with a higher safety rating.”
I sound nowhere near as smart as my GPA indicates. “You’re going to buy me a car?”
“Yes,” he answers casually.
“Why?” I talk fast when I’m nervous. “And will that be before or after you track down the Долбоеб”—my attempt to mimic his accent is horrendous—“who saved you from needing to have a quintuplesome to keep your reputation intact?”
Of course he veers for the part of my statement that has nothing to do with the threat of murder. “Quintuplesome?”
“I couldn’t think of a name for a threesome with two extra participants.”