Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I will.”
“No, you won’t,” he argues, his tone still humored even with it having a slight hint of arrogance.
“Mikhail…”
He pulls the world out from beneath my feet when he confesses. “You won’t because you don’t know that I removed the top page of our agreement because I had it amended before presenting it to you.”
My heart thuds wildly as I struggle to concentrate on both him and the road.
It is lucky we are on an isolated road or we may have gotten in a wreck by now.
I blink back tears when Mikhail twists to face me before confessing, “You won’t get solely fifty million dollars at the end of our contract. You will get five hundred and fifty million dollars.”
I stare at him, my mind struggling to process his words. “What?”
He suggests I pull over before we crash before he announces without the slightest bit of worry hardening his handsome face, “I signed the entirety of our combined inheritance to you.”
“Why would you do that?”
Tears fill my eyes as I realize the depth of his love and how it has never waned. “Because a man’s wealth isn’t measured by the digits in his bank account—”
“It’s from the memories in his heart,” we say at the same time.
When he nods, my heart squeezes.
“Mikhail…” I should say more. I need to say more. I just can’t.
I’m in shock, and it deepens when he says, “I didn’t want his money, Emmy. I only wanted you.” He tries to make out he’s not the sentimental schmuck I made him out to be multiple times during our perfect but far too short three years. “Which means in a little over eleven months, you can buy this car or that car…” He points as if a random car is driving past. There isn’t one. We’re alone, and I realize he is in this for the long haul when he says, “Or any fucking car you want. As long as it is a manual and I’m your instructor of choice.”
The horn honks when I use the steering wheel as leverage to lunge myself at him.
“Always,” I murmur over his lips before sealing my mouth over his. “You will always be my instructor of choice.”
One brush of our tongues and the world and everything in it fades.
As I rake my fingers through Mikhail’s long, silky hair, I drag my tongue along the roof of his mouth before kissing him as if I am starved of his taste. I tug his hair, loving the moan it produces, before I straddle his lap and grind down slowly.
A shudder rolls through me. He’s hard, but I know all too well that we won’t be moving from home plate anytime soon.
Mikhail loves foreplay. Almost as much as me? I truly don’t know anymore. I think I may have risen to the top of the pile after his confession.
The thought sees me rocking against him harder, the friction exquisite. I grind against him on repeat, stroking myself with the hard rod of flesh between his legs. My breathing labors as the tingles of an orgasm surface, but I can’t stop. The buzz is amazing, and my horniness feeds off it.
“Please,” I murmur breathlessly. “I need you.” My nostrils flare as I breathe in his scent, my lungs deprived like we spent more than an hour apart.
“No, you don’t,” Mikhail denies. He adjusts his position, making us more comfortable, before he spreads his thighs wide and arches his pelvis. “You’ve got everything you need right here. Keep going, Emmy. Make me come in my pants like a virgin at a whore house.”
I shouldn’t laugh. His analogy isn’t funny. Mikhail comes from an extremely bigamist family. Whore houses were very much a part of their welcome-to-manhood rituals. My laughter just can’t be helped. I love how wide Mikhail’s berth went when he steered his life down its own path. He skipped almost every horrid sacrament. I would like to say all, but unfortunately, not all of them were reserved for adults.
When my rocks slow, my thoughts trapped in the past, Mikhail shifts my focus back to him by rolling his hips ever so slightly. He’s so thick and long, his piercings stimulating my clit seconds after the mouthwatering rub of the crown of his glorious cock. They make me ache, and strip everything back until only the insane need to orgasm matters.
I hug his thighs with my knees as a wildfire blazes through me. My nipples pucker as my breasts grow heavy with need. I can’t stop grinding. Rocking. I take and take and take until Mikhail’s body trembles as ruefully as mine.
“Yes,” I moan, conscious Mikhail’s release is almost as formed as mine. I want him to come with me, to surrender to the power stronger than any man.
And I know the perfect way to achieve that.