Beautiful Chains (Molotov Betrothal #2) Read Online Anna Zaires

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Molotov Betrothal Series by Anna Zaires
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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“Alinyonok…” There’s a tortured note in his voice, even as dark fire blazes in his eyes. Releasing my elbow, he grips my face between his palms and stares down at me, his water-dappled chest rising and falling in a harsh, unsteady rhythm.

I stare back at him, my pulse roaring in my temples. I don’t know what’s happening, but it scares me. It feels like there’s a storm raging inside him, one that will drown us both if we’re not careful. Cautiously, I lay my hands over his wrists, feeling the brutal strength of his bones, tendons, and muscles. He’s not hurting me right now, but he could. So easily. Like my father hurt my mother.

Like he killed her before Nikolai killed him.

I must flinch, or make some kind of sound, because Alexei’s face twists, and with a tormented groan, he pulls me to him, bending his head to kiss me so fiercely I lose all the air in my lungs. He takes it all, every molecule of my oxygen, every thought in my mind, and by the time he swings me into his arms and starts toward the stairs, my body is on fire and the dark memories are distant, my fears once again nebulous, unvoiced. All except one…

“Wait,” I gasp, twisting in his arms as he carries me swiftly down the stairs and through the hallway. “Alexei, stop!”

He ignores me, like always. As he so vividly demonstrated this morning, my objections have never mattered to him. Reaching the cabin, he kicks open the door with complete disregard for his bare foot and brings me in before kicking it closed.

“I have to see you,” he says feverishly, laying me on the bed. His voice is raw as he reaches for my clothes. “Fuck, Alinyonok… I have to feel you.”

Resigned, I close my eyes and turn my face to the side as he strips me naked with equal parts ruthless efficiency and feverish intensity. I already know how this scene is going to play out: he’s going to fuck me, I will come, and then he’ll come in me, making me hate him and myself.

In no time at all, I’m naked and he’s caressing my belly, cupping my breasts with his big hands, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. His touch is frantic, yet there’s something off about it. Something almost… clinical.

What the fuck?

I open my eyes and turn my head to look at him.

He’s still wearing his wet swimming trunks, and they’re tenting with an unmistakably massive erection. However, the way he’s looking at my body doesn’t feel the least bit sexual. Even as he holds my breasts, one in each hand, he doesn’t seem interested in pleasure—mine or his. It’s like he’s examining me, the way a doctor would. What the—

He releases my breasts and steps back, shoving his fingers through his wet hair, the gesture filled with intense frustration. Confused, I stare at him as he squeezes his eyes shut, swears under his breath, and then leaves the cabin, the door banging shut behind him.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Suddenly painfully cognizant of my nakedness, I sit up and look down at my breasts. They seem okay to me, round and firm, my nipples a dusky rose-pink. My stomach is flat, even with the way I’m sitting all hunched over.

As far as I can tell, I haven’t suddenly turned into an ogre or sprouted horns in lieu of nipples.

Then again, men are fickle creatures. Maybe he’s grown tired of me that quickly. Maybe the reality doesn’t live up to whatever fantasies he’s built up in his mind over the years.

I should be glad. I should celebrate this development, but instead, my heart squeezes into a tight little ball and shame crawls up my spine. If my mother were here, she’d tell me this is what I deserve for all those times I didn’t listen to her, when I didn’t exercise enough, or ate junk food, or didn’t pluck my eyebrows. She’d say—

The door bangs open again, and Alexei strides back in, a small box in his hand.

Instinctively, I grab for the blanket to cover my nakedness, but he’s already by the bed, eyes blazing. He plunks the box onto the blanket I’m clutching, and shock slams into me as I see what it is.

It’s a box of condoms.

Magnum-sized, of course.

My gaze flies up to his, and he nods, jaw flexing.

“We’ll do it this way going forward,” he says gutturally and pulls me into his arms, slanting his lips over mine.

With burning hunger, he consumes me, and for the first time, I don’t hate myself when I melt into his dark embrace.

Chapter 22

Alina

The morning sun is shining on my face when I open my eyes and stretch luxuriously, feeling like a well-fed cat. I’m sore all over—Alexei didn’t let me out of his bed all afternoon, evening, and night except for a quick dinner break—but I’m feeling good. And not just because I had a dozen orgasms as the yacht rocked in yet another storm. There’s an unusual lightness in my chest, a buoyant sort of feeling. I’m almost… happy.


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