Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 90540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Once he’d unbound my hair, he ran his fingers through it. “I see what the problem is.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned in to murmur at my ear, “You believe I would be eating you out for your pleasure instead of for mine.”
CHAPTER 17
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I hadn’t said my safe word when he’d pressed me back naked in my bed. I’d remained silent as he’d used a scarf to tie my wrists to the headboard.
But now, when he snapped one of my leather belts, I was tempted to scream, “Cognac!”
“I don’t know about this.” So why was my voice so throaty?
“You know your choices.” Still dressed, he stalked around the bed, his eyes dark and fierce, like an animal surveying a meal it was about to devour.
I had called him a beast just two nights ago. Felt like ages had passed.
When he licked his lips, I shivered and my nipples puckered tighter.
His predator’s gaze locked on them, noting my response. “Your body wants more. Safe word or surrender. One or the other.”
Fucking Russki. In the club, I hadn’t known what I was getting into, but now I did. Refusing to flinch, I followed his gaze from my aching breasts to my hair fanning out, then to my eyes, to my lips. Back to my breasts, before dipping lower . . .
“Bend your knees and bring your heels up against your ass.”
“We can do other things, Dmitri,” I said, though I’d brought my heels up.
He wrapped my braided belt around the middle of my thigh and my shin, securing one leg in a bent position. “Nyet. You said I’d inwardly curse your name? You’ll outwardly curse mine. Understand me, Vika, I will kiss you for as long as I like.” Then he secured my other leg with a second belt. “If you come without permission, I will keep tonguing you with no care for how sensitive you’ll be.”
Though this sounded titillating, I wasn’t sold. My head fell to the side, and I sighed. I should just fake it.
Brett had gone down on me one night early in our relationship, and I’d known it wasn’t in the cards, but he’d kept trying, so I’d faked it.
And he’d still massaged his jaw and waggled it with an adorable grin that had made me feel awful. Sex shouldn’t hurt.
Dmitri Sevastyan was a mark; why should I care how he felt? “You can still back out.”
“I’ve made sure you cannot.” He’d bound me tight as hell.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Or, rather, that he was doing this to me.
“Unless you use your safe word,” he added. “Otherwise I won’t relent until you’ve come so many times I pity your tender pussy.”
“You expect multiple times?”
“The only thing I expect of you this night is your submission.” He sat beside my waist, facing my feet, stretching a possessive arm over my torso.
His fingers brushed over my mound. “Never remove this light hair of yours. It drives me wild.” He ogled me so close I could feel his breaths. “Let your legs fall wide. Show me where you’re wet.”
Face heating, I . . . did. I had to bite back a moan when my damp labia parted for him.
He bit out, “You are exquisite. I’m going to learn every inch of you.”
The idea of his eyes on me, roaming over my most secret place, made my spread pussy quiver.
He must have seen it because he gave a rumbling groan. “You need to do as I say, don’t you?”
Yes. My nipples were so hard, my areolas were raised. My breaths had shallowed. I felt myself getting even wetter, my folds swelling. “I’m trusting you with this.”
“Your trust humbles me, Vika.” He sat up on the bed and removed his jacket, tossing it onto my cheap office chair.
Would I finally see him naked?
He bent to remove his shoes; I heard the creak of costly leather. When he stood, I watched his every movement in fascination.
His clothes were like art to me. He was art to me.
As he shrugged out of his shirt, I was treated to the sound and scent of its starchy crispness. The long lean muscles of his arms flexed as his broad chest was revealed.
My gaze drank him in. His pecs were rigid planes of muscle, his torso defined perfection. Just following the black trail of hair leading down from his navel had me rocking my hips.
He undid his belt and unzipped with fingers that looked masculine and rugged—especially with his busted knuckles—yet they’d played me like an instrument the night before.
His slacks whispered down his muscular legs, his buckle pinging as it hit the floor. His cock bulged in his gray boxer briefs, and sexy precum wetted the material. I could make out the shape of his piercing.
He pulled off those briefs, and his dick bobbed. Oh, my God. He stood before me naked, shoulders squared, letting me look. His body was a bonanza. His shaft jutted ramrod straight, the crown taut. His balls were large and looked in need of cupping. Would he like it if I gently tugged on them?
Or even, not so gently? My fingers clenched and unclenched.
He stalked beside the bed, looming over me. As I gazed up at him, his veined length pulsed so hard it jerked.
Oh my.
My, my, mine.
Seeing him like this made me a thousand times more aware of my bonds. I couldn’t simply walk over and explore him, couldn’t heft the weight of his big dusky balls or fondle his pecs. Couldn’t follow that trail of hair below his navel—with my mouth.
I couldn’t tongue his piercing. I found myself licking my lips as I stared at it.
He caught me. “Again, you show me no mercy.” He gripped his shaft. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes. I wish you’d just let me suck you.”
He rested a knee on the side of the bed. “Perhaps afterward.”
“How long will you do this before we call it?”
“Look at my cock. I’m this hard from mere anticipation. Watch my reactions if you want to know how long I’ll do it.” He leaned down and used the pierced head to rub one of my nipples.