Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I wasn’t terribly hungry, though I did nibble a bit of everything and drink two cups of coffee. He teasingly asked me if I would like a Bloody Mary. I demurred.
I noticed that Anton did not eat much either. I tried not to worry about the waste of food and the labor of the chef and servants to set up the sumptuous, partially eaten meal overlooking the sea. I knew what my host, my owner, my captor, my soon-to-be lover would say.
He would say that there was plenty to go around. That our pleasure and enjoyment was not wasteful. That he could afford it. And that the servants were grateful for the chance to be of service.
I patted my lips with the napkin, and then he took my hand. He practically lifted me to my feet and kissed me, before leading me away from the cliff’s edge. We strolled around the grounds towards the house, talking softly about nothing and everything.
We walked up the broad steps to his house.
I knew what would happen next. Not the details of course. But I knew that he would take me to his bed and make love to me for the first time.
It would be the first time for us.
It would also the first time for me.
I wondered if he knew. I wondered if he cared. Perhaps that was exciting to him. Or if my inexperience was something he found tiresome, but not terribly important. Or if he did not care either way. If he simply wanted me, exactly as I was, experienced or not.
I exhaled shakily and looked around as we entered his home.
The entryway was as impressive as the entryway to his wing of the estate in Moscow, but lighter. Airier. There were no dark polished wood, amber glass chandeliers, or heavy brocade curtains. And his mood seemed to reflect that.
He was smiling as he lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“Would you like a tour? Or to freshen up?”
“Both, please,” I asked, not sure if I wanted to get my deflowering over with, or delay as long as possible. “Tour first.”
He nodded, kissing my fingers. He gave me a brief tour of the house. ‘Brief’ being less than an hour. The house was exquisitely lovely but nowhere as imposing as his main residence. I wondered if each home represented a different side of the enigmatic man, who was now leading me up the stairs of his house to the second floor.
This part of the tour was much quicker.
He didn’t even stop to show me the guest rooms. He led me straight to ‘his’ room. The master chamber.
He gave me an intense darkly heated look before tugging my hand so that I followed him into the enormous room.
He glanced back at me, then continued forward. I stopped; my eyes caught on the bed. He watched me, saying nothing. I exhaled and swallowed, giving him a small smile, before the unending swath of blue caught my eye. I walked towards a wide cushioned seat below a large picture window.
The ocean stretched in all directions.
“Oh, my goodness,” I breathed as I stared out at the unobstructed ocean view. It was even better here than it was from the gazebo. It looked like a magical quilt of ever-changing shades of blue. Much brighter than the Atlantic. It was not as gaudy as the pictures I had seen of tropical waters, though I longed to see the bright turquoise water up close, just to see if it was real.
Anton must have sensed my fascination with the ocean, how drawn I was to see it, taste it, and touch it. I wanted to dive in, though it was far away and much too cold for swimming. It looked close enough to reach out and drag my fingers through it… though I knew it was an optical illusion.
He threw the windows open and I could smell it, the tangy freshness of the salt air, just as potent as it had been in the gazebo where we had eaten our breakfast. He stood there quietly, just beside me, watching me. I was almost afraid to look at him, but I did.
The look in his eyes was tender and hungry, soft and fierce, loving and devouring, all at once. The warmth he gave off made me catch my breath, then break out in goosebumps. I realized suddenly, that I would never be the same again. This was the moment where my life changed completely, once and for all, for better or worse.
There would be no turning back from this one moment in time.
“Are you frightened of me, Mishka?”
“No,” I answered swiftly. And I wasn’t. Not of him. Not ever again. I knew he would not hurt me. Not intentionally. I did fear his power over me. But not the man. Not the purity of his heart.