Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Tatiana stands in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet, dabbing perfume behind her ears. The sight of her in that green dress stops me dead. With her pale skin and jade green eyes, she’s a vision. The silk accentuates her soft curves and tight ass. Her back is turned to me, her scars exposed. The sight of them fills me with both violence and admiration. I want to commit unspeakable acts and torture the man who did this to her to his last fucking breath, but as Jasper told me, I already killed him. Tatiana suffered horrendous pain, and she didn’t break. I know few men who’d last like she did without giving up a name. But she never told her father the name of the man who ruined and impregnated her when she was promised to another. For that, I’ve never admired anyone more.
Emily’s words repeat in my mind.
What happens when she remembers?
She’ll remember that she carries those scars because she protected me, and she’ll hate me with more intensity than ever before for the way in which I used her on the very night she almost bled out for me. No, long before that. Because I used her from the very beginning, even before I bumped into her on the sidewalk in the snow.
“Dante.” She takes me in. “You’ll have to hurry. If we don’t leave in five minutes, we’ll be late.”
Her nipples are visible beneath the fabric that drapes over her chest, and suddenly, I regret telling her to wear that dress. With the open back, she can’t wear a bra. I’m not even sure she’s wearing panties.
I stalk to her, closing the distance in a few long strides. She tilts her head back, a small frown pleating her brow.
My voice is gruff. “You look beautiful.”
Fucking inadequate. But I can’t think of words that will do her justice.
“Thanks.” A smile flirts with her lips. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
She touches her hair, which she’s taken up. Good. It exposes her back better. I want everyone to see how strong she is. I want them to look so that they can stop their whispering. I don’t know how it got out, but rumors always spread like a wildfire in our circles. I want all those cowards to look at her and see how much they’re lacking, that they can never be as brave as my wife.
She glances over her shoulder. “Is there something wrong with how I look?”
“Other than the fact that a beauty like you should be adorned with jewelry? No.”
“Then why—”
She doesn’t get out another word. I cup her hips and do it for her, turning her toward the mirror before flattening a palm between her shoulder blades and pushing her down with her ass in the air.
“Dante,” she protests. “We’re going to be late.”
“Then we’ll be late.” Using my free hand, I pull up the skirt and hook it over her waist, exposing a lacy thong. “I want to fuck my wife before we go.”
Her ass cheeks are round and tight, her pale skin unblemished. Hooking a finger around the elastic that runs down her crack, I pull it aside to reveal her pussy. Her lips are pink and delicate, a sweet temptation for my taking.
“I don’t think—”
Her words are cut short when I curl two fingers and slide them into her. There’s no preparation, no preamble or slow stretching, just her arousal coating my middle and forefingers, just me watching with a boner from hell as I split her open and bury my knuckles inside her.
She wobbles, her knees buckling as I add a third finger and fuck her in all earnest with my hand. Reaching around her, I grab her wrist and place her palm on the vanity. She clutches the edge to keep her balance as I use my free hand to rip off the thong and let it fall between her feet on the floor.
I pull out and smear her wetness over her clit before rubbing the button with the heel of my palm. She goes on tiptoes, either embracing the pleasure or trying to get away from it, but I don’t let her escape. I lower my head between her thighs and taste her with a long, leisurely lick. She shivers under my onslaught and cries out when I bite into her plump folds. I take my time licking and sucking, and by the time I’m fucking her with my tongue, she’s so wet, she’s dripping all over my face. But she’s not coming. Not yet.
Rolling her clit between my fingers, I apply just enough pressure to give her a bite of pain with her pleasure. I use my other hand to unfasten my buckle and unzip. My cock is stiff and ready, nearly combusting when I rub the crest over the apex of her sex.