Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Frustration and worry have me in the kitchen at four in the morning, pouring myself a glass of vodka. I stand at the glass doors and look out into the vast back garden, the trees of the forest behind which is a twelve-foot solid wall topped with barbed wire.
This place is a fortress.
Our house will be a fortress.
But if taking it means we’re a part of this life, if taking it is somehow me giving my blessing for Lev to continue the work he’s been doing, then I can’t. I’ll walk away. I’ll have to no matter the cost.
I wonder if either man would let me, though.
A sound from inside the house has me turn toward the living room through which I can see the foyer. I hear the front door open. Two men speak in hushed tones in Russian, and I find myself exhaling. Thanking God.
The door closes. Quiet footsteps head to the stairs.
I set my glass down on the counter and hearing it, he turns, and when I see his face even in the dimly lit rooms, I think how much I missed him. How much I still miss him.
He hasn’t touched me since everything happened. I know he’s scared to hurt me, but I need him. Doesn’t he know that?
After watching me for a small eternity, Lev walks through the living room and into the kitchen. He looks at me but doesn’t speak. He eyes my drink, picks it up, and swallows the rest of it.
“What did you do?” I ask.
He takes the bottle and pours a second glass. He looks like he hasn’t slept. Like he should be drinking a cup of coffee and not the vodka he’s polishing off.
I put my hand over his when he pours one more glass.
“What did you do, Lev?”
“I buried the past,” he says and swallows that glass too. When he sets it back down, he’s finished with the vodka and moves around the counter toward me.
I turn with him, my back to the counter when he puts his hands on either side of me, his body against mine.
He needs me, too. I can feel the urgency of that need.
Leaning his head down, he kisses me. It’s tentative at first, but when I wrap my hands around his shoulders, around the familiar, comforting strength of them, he cups the back of my head, and that kiss turns hungry. Ravenous.
He lifts me up, still kissing me as I wrap my legs around him. Carrying me to the kitchen table, he shoves the chair loudly out of his way and sets me on top of the table, breaking our kiss for the briefest moment to rip the silky nightie I’m wearing to the waist, exposing my breasts.
He groans, eyeing them, then dips his head down and closes his hungry mouth over one, sucking it into his mouth, dragging my nipple out with his teeth as I arch my back and push myself against the hard length of his cock.
I need him. I need him inside me.
“Lev.” I reach for the buckle of his belt and open it.
He shoves my hands away as he pushes me backward to give equal attention to my other breast. His teeth are harder on my nipple than they were a moment ago, and it feels good.
I need to come.
I need him inside me, and I need to come.
“Kat.” He moans against my mouth when he kisses me again. Pushing my nightie up, he rips my panties in his haste to get rid of them.
Then he bends his head to taste me.
“Fuck. I missed this. I missed this so fucking much.”
I pant, wanting his mouth on me, wanting him to suck my clit hard and make me come, but I want him inside me more. I slide my hand into the waistband of his jeans and tug him closer, feeling the rock-hard muscles of his abdomen as I do.
He kisses me, pushing my clumsy hands away, then undoes his jeans, and shoves them and his briefs down.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he starts, and I watch him fist his cock. He wants this. I see it. Feel it. He’s as desperate for this as I am.
“I need you to. I need you to fuck me hard, Lev. I need to know I’m yours again.”
He stops, looks at me like he’s confused, then cups the back of my head with one hand and brings my mouth to his, kissing me as he guides his cock to my entrance.
“When did you think you weren’t mine?” he asks, pushing into me, tentative at first, like the kiss, but I can feel the frenzy just behind that caution.
“Whatever gave you the impression you weren’t mine?” He thrusts hard.
I gasp when his body is flush against mine, his cock buried deep inside me. It hurts. It’s been so long, too long, but this is exactly what I need.