Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
My pulse spikes again. Of course he wouldn’t. Not after everything he’s done to get us here. Still, he has to realize that marrying me this weekend—and not giving me any choice about it—is not the way to go after a nine-month-long absence preceded by a forced relationship involving murder, torture, and abduction.
“How about a winter wedding?” I say in desperation. “We could do it right around the December holidays, so the season will always be extra festive for us. We could plan a honeymoon around that time, too. I’ll be able to take a week or two off work, and—”
“We can do the honeymoon whenever.” Reaching for me, he slides his hands under my blouse, resting warm palms on my bare sides. His metallic eyes take on a heated gleam as his thumbs rasp across the sensitive skin underneath my ribcage, stroking back and forth. “If you can’t or don’t want to take time off next week, you don’t have to. I’m okay with waiting until winter for the honeymoon.”
“Then why not the wedding?” I hold his gaze, trying to focus on the topic at hand instead of the way the slow, hypnotic stroking of those thumbs is heating up my skin and making my insides quiver. “What harm will it do if we get married then, too?”
His mouth takes on a sensuous curve, and he bends his head, inhaling deeply, as if breathing in my scent. “You mean other than all my planning going to waste?” he murmurs, his lips brushing across the top of my ear.
“Y-yes.” I close my eyes as he pulls me closer, nuzzling against the side of my neck as my head instinctively falls back, granting him better access. My breathing quickens, a melting sensation softening my bones as the hard ridge of his arousal presses against my stomach, making me aware of an empty ache deep within.
“Well…” He lightly bites my neck, then soothes the tiny sting by licking the wounded spot. “For one thing, I want you as my wife, and I want it today, not tomorrow or three days from now.” His mint-scented breath is warm on my skin, sending electric tingles down my body. “I want you to wear my ring at all times, everywhere, so everyone knows you’re mine.” He places another biting lick behind my ear, his voice deepening further as he murmurs, “It’s not rational, ptichka, but I need this—need you. And I can’t wait. Not after being apart from you for so long.”
“What about…” It’s getting harder to gather my thoughts as he continues to inflict those sensuous little bites all over my neck and shoulder juncture. With monumental effort, I force myself to focus. “What about kids? And where will we live? And what—” I gasp as he undoes my zipper and slides his hand into my soaked panties. “What about”—I begin to pant as his fingers find my clit and start manipulating it with unerring skill—“your job?”
“I told you, I quit.” His breathing is just as ragged as mine as he sinks one long finger into me, then uses the resulting slickness to paint wet circles on my throbbing clit. “It’s over.”
“But… oh, God.” My hips are now shimmying in a circle, chasing after the movement of that teasing finger. The pressure is building inside me so rapidly I can no longer form a single thought. “Oh, God, Peter, I’m going to—”
With a choked cry, I explode, every muscle in my body clenching on a violent wave of pleasure. The orgasm is so strong that my mind goes blank, flooded with purely physical sensations. I’m dimly cognizant of being moved, of my pants and underwear being pushed down my legs, and then I’m bent over the sofa and he’s pushing into me, his big cock penetrating deep in one hard stroke.
The shock of it jolts me to the bone, and my still-quivering muscles lock tight, clamping in an instinctive effort to halt the invasion. But that only makes him feel thicker, more massive inside me, and I find myself panting again as he grips my hips and starts thrusting, his pelvis slamming against my ass with each merciless stroke.
“Peter…” I feel the wave gathering again, threatening to swamp me in white-hot bliss. “Peter, wait…”
He doesn’t slow down; if anything, his punishing thrusts speed up. “Come with me,” he commands hoarsely. “I want to feel you milk my cock.”
I’m there before he finishes speaking, the wave cresting with tsunami-like force. The pleasure batters my senses, eviscerating the last shreds of my resistance. I don’t know if I’m screaming or if it’s the blood roaring in my ears, but the rest of the sounds fade out.
All I hear, all I feel, all I sense is the ecstasy and him.
51
Peter
My ptichka is quiet as I bring her to the bathroom and lower her into the bubble bath I prepared before leaving to pick her up. The tub is too small for us both, so I use the sink to wash up and then perch on the side of the tub, watching her rosy nipples play peekaboo with the bubbles. With her head resting on the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, and her delicate features pink with post-orgasmic glow, she looks so tempting I want her all over again.