Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
I don’t want this man. I can’t want him. Yet even as I tell myself this, I know it’s a lie, a falsehood born of wishful thinking. Whatever it is that draws him to me works both ways, the pull of connection between us as strong as it is irrational. I do want him. More than that, I need him. My body doesn’t care that he just killed two people in front of me, that I despise him with all my being. His touch doesn’t repulse me; it arouses me, my desire stoked by the intimacy he’s forced on me over the last few days and the twisted pleasure I’ve known in his embrace.
By the unnatural, perverse tenderness that has no place in our violent relationship.
He’s still waiting for my response, his eyes narrowed, and I know I can back out of this, pretend it was a big misunderstanding. But if I do, he’ll continue stalking me, undermining my resistance day by day until I cave, and in the meantime, everyone around me will be in danger.
“No games,” I whisper into the tense silence. “The condoms are in the nightstand drawer.”
He inhales, his fingers tightening around my wrists, and I see the exact moment he processes what I’m saying. His nostrils flare and his pupils dilate, the look of fury on his face transforming into one of dark, unbridled hunger. Reaching into the drawer with his free hand, he pulls out a foil packet, rips it open with his teeth, and rolls the condom onto his large, jutting cock.
My heartbeat jumps, anxiety tightening my ribcage, but it’s too late.
Lowering his head, Peter captures my lips with his.
Chapter 31
Sara
I don’t know why, but I never expected him to kiss me, to place his mouth on mine and feast on me as though he’s starving. Because that’s what it feels like: as if he’s consuming me, taking in my essence, my very being. His lips and tongue ravage my mouth, devouring me, taking the air right out of my lungs. His free hand burrows into my hair, holding me still for the voracious kiss, and it’s all I can do not to melt into the sheets. Because he doesn’t just take; he gives. He gives so much pleasure I’m overwhelmed by it, overtaken by his taste and scent and feel.
He kisses me until I’m flushed and burning, until I can barely recall what it felt like not to kiss him, not to inhale his warm, minty breath. Until all thoughts of who and what we are are gone, and I’m arching against him, mindless with need, desperate for more of his touch, of this dizzying, scorching pleasure. My fingertips tingle from his tight grip on my wrists, and his body is heavy on top of mine, but I want more.
I want to lose myself in his merciless embrace, to dissolve in him and disappear.
He releases my lips to trail burning kisses over my face and neck, and I gulp in air, my heart racing and my skin pebbling from the electrifying pleasure. With each breath I take, my nipples rub against his muscled chest, and wetness slicks my inner thighs, my body preparing itself for him, for this act I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t crave with such violent intensity.
Breathing raggedly, he lifts his head, and I see an answering hunger in his silver gaze, a dark need mixed with something disturbingly possessive. His hand releases my hair and moves down my body, cupping my breast. “Sara…” My name is a rough exhale on his lips as his thumb grazes across my aching nipple. “You are so beautiful, ptichka… everything I’ve dreamed of and more.”
His fervent words sear through me, filling me with warmth that goes down to my core—and sets off alarm bells in my mind. This feels too much like the consummation of a loving romance, and as his knee wedges between my thighs, the sensual fog engulfing me lifts for a moment. With a jolt of clarity, I process what’s happening, and horror douses my desire.
What am I doing? How can I be enjoying this on any level? It’s one thing to stoically bear a monster’s touch for the greater good, but to actually want him—to let him act as though we’re lovers—is sick, utterly insane. Even with my wrists restrained, there’s no use pretending I’m unwilling, that my body doesn’t crave him in the most perverse ways.
The broad head of his cock nudges at my folds, and my breathing turns shallow, my muscles stiffening in sudden panic. I can’t do it—not like this. It’s too much like lovemaking. He’s still looking at me, his gray eyes filled with burning heat, and I know I have to tell him to stop, to end this—
He pushes into me in one hard stroke, and I forget what I was going to say. I forget everything but the stark, brutal sensation of his cock entering my body. His uncompromising hardness forces apart tight inner tissues, and despite my arousal, I feel a stinging burn as he presses deeper, ignoring the resistance of clenched muscles. It’s been a long time for me, and he’s big, both thicker and longer than George. My heart drums violently in my chest as my body yields reluctantly to the rough penetration, and with a mix of disappointment and bitter relief, I realize my fears were for naught.