Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“How can I trust you when you keep hiding things that point to your guilt? It’s like you’re here, but your heart is still in Colombia.”
My emotions threaten to choke me. "That’s not fair! What more do you want from me?"
He blows out a breath and touches my shoulder. "I want to believe you, Isabella. But every time I let my guard down…”
“You don’t have to prove yourself to me. You can trust me. I never betrayed you. Stop treating me like I did.”
Lev’s eyes flash with a mix of anger and vulnerability. He grabs my arm, our breaths mingling in the heated air.
I will try again. “Show me who you are behind this armor. Let me in.”
He crushes his lips against mine, the kiss rough and demanding. He tears at my clothes, the room filling with the sounds of our desperate need. It’s been days. It feels like an eternity.
He pushes me against the wall, his hands roaming over my body as if seeking silent reassurance. He cups my ass, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Our movements are frantic, driven by a need to prove something to ourselves. To each other.
He buries his face in my neck. I shiver, imbibing his scent. I lick his neck, relishing the salty taste of his hot skin, and he groans. “Sometimes I wish this wasn’t who we are. Sometimes I wish we were normal people who had normal jobs and worried about shit like, should we get a dog, and when’s the next fucking soccer game?”
I make a sound of disgust. “That sounds so basic and boring as fuck.” I kiss the underside of his jaw, heat rising in my belly, primal need clawing at my chest. I want him inside me so badly I could cry.
“Maybe normal is underrated,” he whispers in my ear.
“Let’s get through this,” I whisper back. “And then we’ll give it a go, mi querido jefe.”
“Deal, mi reina.” My heart surges in my chest. My queen.
“Are you hitting the Duolingo again?” I grin against his neck, and he slaps my ass. I close my eyes and moan.
“Aleks has a new housekeeper who speaks Spanish. I’ve been quizzing her.”
That’s so fucking adorable. I push back on his chest and frown at him. “Is she young and hot?”
He holds me with one hand while he yanks my top off with the other. I reach for his tee and pull it up and over his head. I stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles at his neck and back. I kiss the tats on his arms.
“No,” he snorts. “She’s like a sixty-year-old grandma.”
I kiss him. My tongue meets his. He utters a low, male sound of approval that does delicious things to me.
“Oh good, maybe she can make me tres leches.”
He bends my head back and kisses my neck, and I moan. “Thought you didn’t eat cake.”
I swallow, the rough, hot feel of his tongue making me crazy. “For tres leches, I make an exception.”
He grins. I swoon. Christ, my husband is a fucking god. Wordlessly, he lifts me onto his desk, pushing papers and maps aside. Pens bounce off the floor and something inside me thrills at his carelessness. He wants me.
With one hand gripping my thigh, he uses the other to open the huge window behind me, letting in the cool night air and the distant sound of the city. I thrill at the exposure, the knowledge that a whole city is right outside. I catch a glimpse of us in one of his huge monitors and grin.
He tears my clothes away and growls into my ear. “You’re mine, Isabella. Do you understand?"
I moan, my nails digging into the tats on his back. "Yes, Lev. I’m yours. Only yours."
Gripping me with one hand, he unzips his fly with the other. I hold my breath at the sight of his thick, throbbing cock. I want him in me. I can’t fucking breathe until he’s in me.
My head falls back when he shoves my thighs apart. I’m gripping his shoulders, but my hands are slick with sweat. I’m slipping. I fall, and he catches me in his strong, capable hands.
Our bodies move together in a fierce rhythm, the world outside disappearing as we lose ourselves in each other.
His phone rings over and over again.
“I have to take that,” he says in my ear. I open my mouth to protest. “Don’t say a fucking word, or I’ll punish you.”
I bite my tongue and grin as he stabs his phone and hits the speaker.
“Yeah?”
He shoves into me so hard a spasm rushes through me. I close my eyes. Someone talks to him in Russian, and he answers in grunts. I bend my mouth to his chest and lick his nipple. He hisses in a breath and yanks my hair.