Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Me, stop it?
I retrieve my phone and type her a text.
Adrian: Get in here.
She stares at her screen for a second, her lips pursing further before she types back at rapid-fire speed.
Lia: No. I’m playing with Jeremy.
Adrian: That’s three, Lenochka.
Her eyes widen and she meets my gaze through the window.
Lia: I did nothing wrong today.
Adrian: You touched Yan twice and you just refused a direct order. Three.
Lia: You’re impossible.
Adrian: I will show you how impossible I can truly become if you don’t get in here in the next minute.
Lia glares at me through the window, her temper rising with every second before she types.
Lia: No.
Adrian: Then tell Yan to come.
A frown etches her delicate brow.
Lia: Why?
Adrian: So he can pay for touching you.
Lia: He didn’t do it. I did.
Adrian: Doesn’t matter.
The fact that she’s defending him makes his case worse, and the more she takes Yan’s side, the deeper his grave gets.
Lia: You need help, okay?
Adrian: And that’s four.
Lia jerks upright, throwing her phone beside Jeremy. He stares up at her with unsure eyes, but soon smiles when she kisses his cheeks and probably tells him she won’t be long.
Yan stands as well, but remains by Jeremy’s side.
Kolya, who must’ve witnessed the entire thing, gets to his feet and grabs his laptop. “I’ll be in the annex if you need me.”
“What?” I ask when he doesn’t attempt to go.
“Why do you keep Yan as her guard when you don’t trust him around her?”
“I’m testing him.”
“You’re breaking him in.”
“Same thing.”
“Still.”
“Stop spoiling him, Kolya. He’s not a kid anymore. In fact, he’s more cunning and works under the surface deeper than you’re blinded to see.”
“You’re only saying that because he’s close to Mrs. Volkov.”
“And you’re only defending him because you refuse to recognizes what he’s turned into. Can’t you see it?”
He frowns. “See what?”
“Yan is not the little kid who used to follow you around wherever you went.”
He pauses as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it, nods, and leaves.
I click my monitors shut and head to my minibar to pour myself a glass of cognac on ice. By the time I settle back into my chair, the door opens not so gently as a furious Lia barges inside and slams it shut behind her.
Taking my time, I drink her in. She removed the coat and is wearing a light pink dress that flattens against the curve of her breasts and waist before falling to her knees. Her cheeks are red, her lips pursed, accentuating the cut from when she bit them to the point of drawing blood.
That will change.
Sooner or later, that habit will disappear.
Sooner or later, she’ll be completely mine. Literally. Figuratively. In every sense of the word.
I click on the remote, causing the curtains to fall closed, shielding us from the outside world.
“What the hell do you want?” she snaps.
“And that’s five, Lenochka.” I motion at her to move closer. “Now, come here.”
19
Winter
My temper is about to snap and break all hell loose.
I’m so tempted to get out of his office—to hell with his punishments every night. The sick bastard always finds a reason to spank me or whip me, anyway, so it’s not like tonight will be any different.
He’s making it his mission to not allow me to sit comfortably and to feel every lash of his punishment whenever I move. I constantly sense his presence with me, even when we don’t see each other. It’s a persistent reminder of my shameful orgasms and how my body responds to the pain as stimulation instead of discomfort.
The worst part is that I look forward to nighttime now. I look forward to all the things he’ll do to me in the confinements of the bedroom’s walls. Sometimes, I lie in still in the morning and feel like a slut for taking another woman’s role and orgasming on the bed she slept in for years. I feel like an imposter and a horrible human being.
But come nightfall, all those thoughts vanish, except for the feel of his skin on mine. The scent of his cologne. The sheer power of his presence.
I tell myself to hate it, to loathe it, to rebel against it, but what’s the point? I may muffle my orgasms and turn away from him, but he’s a constant that’s impossible to get rid of. He might have confiscated me from the streets, but he didn’t force me to enjoy his ministrations. That was all on me. I chose to enjoy his brutality, his touch, and even crave it after a single taste.
Now that we’re in his office, it feels different from the bedroom. There are no voices telling me it’s wrong or that this place belonged to his wife.
Ever since the day I waited for him on the sofa outside, I’ve actively avoided this place, so this is the first time I’ve come in here. Like him, his office exudes an intense masculine vibe. The lounge area has a black high-back leather sofa and chairs. Even the glass on the coffee table is black. His dark brown wooden desk is topped by three monitors and he sits in a large chair that’s dwarfed by his muscular frame. I’m surprised to find floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with endless books on either side of him.