Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
From the stories she’s shared of her father over the years, he is a big, protective bear who’d never let anything bad happen to her. His little girl sees him as a nurturer. It doesn’t take much for the switch to be flipped, though. The footage I found on the Bobrov server while hunting for the driver Kliment left there months ago almost had me reaching my breaking point. I was filled with rage at how cowardly Kirill gunned down Feo. I wanted to kill anyone who crossed my path, but since I yearned to protect Polina more, I reached for her instead of my usual crutches.
When Leon tilted slightly too far to his left, any crutch but murder was wiped from the table the instant I spotted his gun. I wanted to kill him, and I planned to do exactly that as I crawled out from beneath my opponent and kicked him up the side of the head.
It seems Polina’s father plotted the same revenge as me.
Although the newsflash is broadcasting Leon and Vasily’s death as an accident, my opinion is on the opposite end of the spectrum. They would have had to be doing double the signed speed to reach the part of the lake capable of swallowing a car quicker than its occupants can exit it, and excluding the boat ramp, which isn’t anywhere close to the freeway in that part of Kronstadt, the lake is covered with dense shrub. You’d need a semi to break through the shrubbery, but there isn’t a single stick on the sedan as the tow truck slowly drags it from the lake’s floor.
Vasily and his father were killed, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I’m disappointed their executioner wasn’t me.
32
POLINA
“Oh god. Don’t stop.”
You’d have no clue Yev’s leg is in a cast halfway up his thigh with how fluently he rocks his hips. With his hands fisting the sheets and his core suspending his ass an inch off the bedding, he plows in and out of me like I’m not meant to be riding him.
He takes control, which I don’t mind at all.
I love handing the power to him when we mess the sheets. He never uses it to his advantage or makes me feel uncomfortable, and since we’ve had more time to talk the past week than the past year, he knows all my limits.
I’d be annoyed if it didn’t return his eyes to mine a second after he locked them to the area our bodies are intimately joined. They’re fired with lust and burning with so much desire, you’d have no idea he woke me this morning with his head between my legs.
He’s meant to be on bed rest.
Yev says Dr. Dustin’s rules are for wimps.
As another climax presents hard and fast, I’m inclined to agree with him. I doubt I’ll feel the same way once he brings me back from hysteria. I hate that he got hurt protecting me and feels a little inadequate now.
He’ll never admit it—he’s far too cocky for that—but I see his frustration when I assist him in and out of the bathroom, and don’t get me started on when his crutch slipped out from beneath him when the pizza boy got a little lippy in front of one of his neighbors.
The teen thought he was a man when he told me he was my dessert. He looked like a frightened boy when Yev appeared in the doorway, ready and willing to put a boot up his ass.
His fear lasted as long as it took him to realize Yev’s leg was in a cast. While heading for the elevator, minus a tip from Yev’s neighbor, he let out a string of insults. His scorn switched to howls of laughter when Yev’s attempt to retaliate saw his crutch slipping on a puddle someone left in front of the elevator doors.
Pissed, Yev threw his crutch at the rapidly closing elevator doors before refusing my numerous offers to help him from the ground. His short fuse broke his crutch and the pizza boy’s nose, and his dinner had gone cold by the time he gave up trying to apply weight to his screwed-together leg.
He crawled inside instead.
It was as hot as you’re imagining, but he was too frustrated to notice my squirms past his anger.
He went to bed sulking.
He’s such a stubborn man, but some good eventually came from his anger. Since he can only hobble without a crutch as far as the master bathroom attached to his room, he’s been enduring the bedrest Dr. Dustin instigated the past two days.
It’s done wonders for the energy he expels every time he fucks me senseless.
He gets restless staying in one spot, but that neurosis is null and void when it comes to bedroom activities. His stamina is remarkable, and it has me racing for my third climax this morning.