Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He grabbed my hands, lacing his fingers through mine and pinned them above my head against the sheets.
A quiet act of dominance.
A warning.
Then he rocked his hips.
Slow. Deep. Claiming me.
His cock forced my body to accommodate him, and I had no choice but to surrender. I melted into him, let his thrusts wring more pleasure from my exhausted body, let his kiss soothe something even deeper.
Giving in to him wasn’t just pleasure. It was my purpose.
It made me feel whole. Like I had finally found where I was meant to be, who I was meant to be. Like I was made to be the woman Kostya lost himself in. Like he was made to be the man who took me, who owned me, who protected me.
"Moy zaichonok,” he growled against my lips. “I could spend my life between your thighs. Your sweet pussy is milking my cock, begging for my seed.”
Something snapped through the haze of pleasure.
Panic.
Cold, sharp fear sliced through the molten heat in my veins, dragging me back to reality.
“No, Kostya, you can’t.”
He let out a dark chuckle, something sinister and knowing. “You keep telling me what I can and can’t do.” He punctuated his words with a brutal thrust, so deep my eyes rolled back. “I have to admit, I enjoy proving you wrong.”
I fought it.
Fought the pleasure, the dangerous pull of him.
“We’ve been reckless enough,” I gasped. “I’m not on birth control. What happens if it takes? We can’t let that happen.”
His hips slowed, but only enough to torture me, to make me feel every inch of him dragging against my sensitive walls. His eyes darkened.
“Let that happen?” His voice was a rumble of amusement, his lips curving into something dark, something possessive. “I want it to happen.”
Another thrust. Deeper.
“I can’t wait to see your belly swell.” His words dripped with something terrifying. Something final. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful carrying my children.”
A sharp, humiliating pulse shot through me. My traitorous body clenched around him, tightening, wanting. Some dark, forbidden part of me wanted exactly that.
Kostya’s child.
It was wrong. It was so wrong.
“Kostya, no,” I whimpered, trying to fight the heat rising inside me, trying to fight him. “I can’t carry your bastard. Please. It’s—”
He reared up, his grip on my hands shifting, his fingers tightening around my wrists, pinning them higher above my head.
My body stretched beneath him, completely exposed, utterly defenseless.
His other hand found my throat.
His thumb and index finger gripped my jaw, forcing my head back, forcing me to look at him while he fucked me harder, while he owned me.
“Wrong?” His voice was nothing but gravel and sin.
His hips snapped against mine, his cock hitting impossibly deep, dragging me back under, drowning me.
“You belong to me, moy zaichonok.” His grip tightened just enough to leave me lightheaded, enough to make me feel how easily he could take my air, take my choices, take everything.
“My children will never be bastards,” he growled. “And I’ll kill anyone who dares to say otherwise. As your husband, it’s my right to fill your womb, and I intend to take full advantage of that.”
His thrusts turned brutal, almost punishing, as if he were driving his claim deeper into me. His jaw clenched, his body tensed, and with a guttural growl, he spilled inside me.
His hand left my jaw, sliding down to rub my clit. The sharp friction shattered me, pleasure detonating through my body.
I came with him, my cries swallowed by his kiss, my body pulsing around his.
I couldn’t have stopped it, even if I had wanted to.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, my head resting against his chest as we caught our breath.
The weight of his words settled into my bones.
I sat up abruptly, breaking free of his embrace, my heart hammering as I stared down at his beautiful, arrogant face. “What do you mean, as my husband?”
CHAPTER 36
MARINA
“I’m not going to marry you.” My voice was sharp, my chin lifted high in defiance as I glared down at Kostya.
He barely acknowledged me, lounging on the edge of the large whirlpool tub, his fingers idly tracing one of the cut crystal bottles lined up along the marble ledge. Steam curled from the filling bath, misting the mirrors, the heat making the air thick, heavy.
“Do you like bubbles in your bath?” he asked, still not looking up.
I clenched my fists. “Did you hear me? I said I’m not going to marry you.”
Kostya hummed as if I hadn’t spoken at all, nodding to himself as he selected one of the bottles. “Yeah. You’re the type of girl who likes bubbles in her bath.”
He uncorked the glass, pouring a ribbon of rich liquid into the steaming water. Instantly, the scent of vanilla and jasmine unfurled into the air, sweet and intoxicating.
I hated that he was right. I did like bubbles. I loved sinking into a bath that smelled like heaven, letting the warmth soothe away aches and tension. And my body was sore, every muscle worn from the night before. It would feel like bliss.