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)
“Yes, Pakhan,” Konstantin says immediately, and the others follow suit.
Even Pavel and Yegor. They might not be happy, but they understand how these things work. Yegor deserved much worse than what he got, and I will not be merciful a second time around. They’ll stay in line, at least for now.
“Very good. That is all I gathered you here to say. Please, enjoy my hospitality, and my vodka. Don’t insult me by leaving here sober.”
I turn and walk out of the room. The mood is no longer light and festive, but the men will linger for a while longer, eat Nikkita’s cooking, drink the alcohol and speak quietly about what they just learned.
“That went well,” Anton says, appearing by my side as I head up the stairs toward my room.
“I don’t need your sarcasm right now.”
“No, seriously, I think it was about as good as you could’ve expected. You only had to remove one finger. And not even the whole finger at that.”
I pause on the second-floor landing and look at Anton. “Yegor should be dead for what he said. He called my wife a whore to my face.”
“You made the right decision. Spilling Russian blood right now won’t go over well. The men will remember you spared him, but also that you made yourself clear. It was smart.”
Smart or not, it didn’t satisfy me.
I turn away from him and wave my guards aside. I close the door behind me and find my wife sitting in bed with a book open in her lap. Her hair is piled up in a messy bun and she’s not wearing any makeup. A big ZZ Top t-shirt covers her body, big enough to be a dress. I don’t know where she got that ugly thing.
“I heard shouting,” she says mildly. “I assume that went well?”
“I cut off a man’s finger.” I approach the bed. “Anton thinks that was successful.”
“And what do you think?” Her eyebrows raise and I can’t tell if she’s afraid.
“I think I’m frustrated.” I remove my jacket and throw it aside. “I think I’m going to take it out on you.”
She closes her book. “I could scream.”
“Go ahead. I’d like that.” I unbutton my slacks and slide them off. She watches me, her mouth hanging open.
Her hungry little mouth.
“You think you can just walk in here and do what you want with me? Even with a house full of guests?”
“I think that’s exactly right.” I unbutton my shirt. I love the way she looks at me. It’s a mix of loathing and desire, like she hates me, but she can’t help but want to fuck me.
That’s what’s so intoxicating about this relationship.
We’re spiraling together.
Yegor was right. Not about calling her a whore—he paid for that mistake already—but about this game I’m playing.
The Armenians are dangerous. They’re vicious, brutal, backstabbing cunts, and they deserve to die.
I should hate Karine. She represents the people that took my father from me in the most inhumane fashion imaginable.
And yet I don’t.
Not in the slightest.
I want to ruin her—dominate her—use her—but I don’t hate her.
She tries to dart away when I approach the side of the bed, but I catch her ankle. She yelps, kicks me in the face, and I feel my nose crunch under her heel. Blood pours down my mouth, down my chest, and I don’t stop. Her eyes go wide with shock.
“Oh, shit, Valentin—Valentin—I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
I grab her hair and bruise her lips with a kiss. I bury her mouth with my tongue and make her taste my blood. She moans into my embrace, and when she tries to struggle, I turn her around and hold her down, leaving that perky ass of hers up in the air.
She’s fucking soaked when I reach between her legs.
“You filthy girl. You broke my nose, and now I’m going to break you.” I slide my fingers inside of her and fuck her deep. “Tell me how much you love it when I make you shatter, baby.”
“You can’t,” she says, panting, mouth hanging open. Playing the game still.
But to me, this is everything.
“Say it, baby.” I fuck her deep then pull my fingers out and spank her ass hard. She gasps, jolting forward, but I grab her and hold her hips.
“No,” she whimpers as I press my cock against her soaking pussy.
“Tell me how much you love it when I make you come.” Blood drips from my nose onto her gorgeous ass. I spread her wide and grab her wrists, holding her down. “Say it, you dirty fucking girl.”
“I won’t say it,” she says.
And gasps as I slide my cock into her from behind.
She’s mine, my wife, my dirty girl, my perfect fucking malishka. I fuck her rough, like the goddamn animal I am. I fuck her deep and I pull her hair until she’s panting and saying my name, and as I reach around her hips to stroke her swollen little clit, she finally gives in.