Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
And in some ways, maybe he does.
Slowly, he puts a hand on my lower back. He tugs me closer, the soft chiffon of my dress rustling as he pulls my body to his. Valentin’s big and so warm, and I put my hands on his chest, thinking I can push myself back.
Instead, I leave them there. His heart’s pulsing hard under my fingers, and I dig them into his muscle as I tilt my chin up at him, wanting to feel only defiance.
Something else burns in my core.
He leans down, his lips pressing closer to my ear.
“If you want me to stop, malishka, say the word airplane. Do you understand?”
My eyes go wide. My pulse doubles, hammering down between my legs. “Are you giving me a safe word?”
“That’s right.” He dips his mouth and kisses my neck. “You’ll need one.”
I push back, hard.
But it’s too late.
I manage only a few inches of separation, enough to give me false hope as I turn to the open door, reaching for it—
Valentin grabs me and drags me back.
“Please,” I say, and I know it’s the wrong word, I know it’s not the one that will stop this. Because I don’t want it to stop. “Valentin, please.”
“Oh, my little wife, I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you walked into my life and took off your clothes like the dirty fucking girl you are.”
I gasp, back arching. He reaches out with one arm and slams the door closed as he tangles his other fist in my hair. I groan, and he destroys any hint of complaint when he smashes his mouth to mine with a vicious, ugly kiss, almost as painful as it is intense and needy. I kiss him back until I get the chance to bite his lip, and he grunts with pain, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You want to hurt me, wife? You want to struggle?”
“Let me go.”
“I don’t think I will.” He grabs the back of my dress and wrenches down the zipper. The delicate material tears and I whimper as the bust sags. I barely manage to hold it on with one hand pressed to my chest. “No, my beautiful wife, now that you’re mine, I plan on claiming you. Every single inch of you.”
He pulls my hair again and kisses me. This time, he shoves my hand aside and wrenches my dress forward, ripping it from my body. I’m bare for him now, just like the first time we met, and his eyes are just as starving as they were then. Almost as if he’s never tasted me before.
I moan into his kiss, shocked at how powerful he is and how easily he undresses me. I’m down to only a nude bra and a white lacy thong, and he lazily shoves me over to the bed, turning me around and bending me over with his powerful body. I feel his erection against my ass.
He grabs my hand with one strong fist and pulls hard. “That’s right, baby, look at you. Stripped bare for me on your wedding night.” He spanks my ass with his other hand. “That’s for thinking you could resist this.”
My mind goes blank. My brain softens into mush. All my fight fades away—if there was ever any fight to begin with—and I let myself drift into his hands. I’m his, entirely his, at least for right now.
It’s messed up. I know I should struggle. This shouldn’t feel so good, but I can’t pretend like I’m not attracted to him.
Big and dark. Terrifying and beautiful. Valentin’s a monster, a man draped in brutality and blood, and I want him all the same.
It makes me think I’m broken.
And maybe I want to be.
He wrenches down my panties and spanks my bare ass. He spanks it again, and again, until I’m aching and grinding up against him, whimpering and mewling, pathetic and tiny. He growls in my ear and teases my bare pussy with his fingers, keeping me pinned down to the bed.
“You’re so fucking wet right now,” he moans, clearly enjoying himself. I feel his hard dick against my leg, thick and long, bursting from his suit pants. “Look at you, filthy fucking girl. Begging for me to take you. What happened to the strong woman I married?”
“Fuck you, Valentin,” I gasp out as his fingers plunge in deep.
“There you are, show me a little spark.” I try to twist around, but he only laughs and keeps fucking me from behind with his fingers.
I don’t know how long I can take this. It feels so fucking good it’s breaking my mind into little pieces. I push back against him, simultaneously wanting to struggle—wanting the game of the struggle—but also needing him to have his way with my body. I need release more than anything I’ve ever craved before.