Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Hush.” I use my grip on her knees to keep her thighs open. “Just lie back and relax.”
“No, I—” She gasps, clutching fistfuls of my hair as I pull her clit into my mouth. I begin sucking on it with strong, rhythmic motions, and the tension in her leg muscles slackens, her breath catching audibly in her throat. I can feel her growing slick under my tongue, and I take advantage of her distraction by moving my right hand up to her pussy.
“That’s it, ptichka, just relax…” I blow cool air across her clit and am rewarded with a soft moan before her thighs tense again. She’s trying to resist, to reject the pleasure, but I already have my elbow in place, preventing her from crushing my head between her legs. She’s breathing hard now, her hands tightening in my hair as I resume sucking on her clit, and I push two fingers into her tight, wet opening, curving them inside her until I feel the soft, spongy wall of her G-spot. Her pussy clamps tight, quivering around my fingers, and her hips arch off the bed as I intensify my sucking. She’s close, I can sense it. My heart is thumping heavily in my chest, my breathing coming fast as the ache in my balls grows unbearable, but I restrain myself until I’m certain she’s on the verge. Then, and only then, I give in to my own need.
Pulling my fingers out, I move up, covering her with my body, and line my cock against her swollen entrance.
“Come with me,” I say hoarsely, meeting her gaze as I penetrate her in one hard stroke, and her body obeys me, her tight, wet flesh clenching around me, milking my cock just as the orgasm hits me. Her beautiful eyes go soft and unfocused, her face twisting with ecstasy as her fingers dig into my sides, and I hear her choked cry as my seed spurts out. It feels like every muscle in my body is vibrating at the same time, my lungs working like bellows as the pleasure blasts through me in scorching waves, and as I collapse on top of her, I know that this is it.
I’ll never want another woman again.
I don’t know how long it takes until the aftershocks die down, but by the time I find the strength to push myself up on my elbows, Sara has recovered enough to realize what happened, and horror creeps across her face. Like me, she’s breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with post-coital glow, but there’s no joy in her gaze, only the sharp glitter of tears.
She’s regretting this, beating herself up again, and I won’t stand for it.
“Don’t.” I dip my head to kiss her cheeks as the tears spill out, streaking down her temples. “Don’t, ptichka. Don’t feel bad. You did nothing wrong. It was all me. I hurt you, remember? I gave you no choice.”
Her breath trembles on her lips as I rain kisses across her face, and I feel her shaking underneath me, her hands twisting in the sheets as the tears keep coming. I’m still inside her, my softening cock buried in her body, yet she’s trying not to touch me, to curl in on herself and reject the connection between us.
I wanted her pain and I got it—and it’s tearing me up inside.
I don’t know what to do, how to calm her, so I just keep kissing her, stroking her as gently as I can. The thirst for vengeance is gone, and all that’s left is regret. Once again, I’m the cause of Sara’s suffering, and this time, it’s infinitely worse. This time, I know her.
I know her, and I care.
She’s still crying when I withdraw from her and get up to dispose of the condom in the bathroom. When I return with a wet towel, I find her curled on her side, with the blanket drawn up to her neck.
“Here, let me clean you up,” I murmur, pulling the blanket off her naked body, and when she doesn’t object, I run the towel over her soft folds, soothing the sore, swollen flesh and wiping away the evidence of her desire. She’s no longer crying, but her eyes are still wet, and the moment I’m done, she huddles back under the blanket, pulling it over her head.
I’m about to climb into bed with her when I hear the vibration of my phone on the nightstand, where I left it in case of emergencies.
Frowning, I pick it up and glance at the screen.
Change of plans, the message from Anton reads. Velazquez is moving to the Guadalajara compound in 2 days. It’s tomorrow or never.
I bite back a curse, fighting an urge to throw the phone across the room. Of all the shitty timing… We just finished working out all the logistics of the plan and were going to strike in six days. But if our target is changing locations, we’re back to square one in terms of planning. It might take several weeks to scope out Velazquez’s Guadalajara compound, and our client, a rival drug lord, is already getting antsy. He wants Velazquez gone as of yesterday, and he won’t look kindly upon a delay.