Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
When Hunter touched her, he demanded her full focus. To him, when they were alone, she belonged solely to him. It seemed to be a requirement they all accepted and no one dared to challenge.
“My lisichka,” he growled, his voice thick with absolute possession.
The primal taste of his desire caused her to moan into his mouth. His scent surrounded her, overwhelmed her—cedar and sweat and raw masculine hunger that was more intoxicating than any drug they’d forced down her throat at Whitmore.
“Pants off,” he commanded against her lips, the words vibrating through her. “Now.”
Her hands shook as she fumbled with the button, fingers clumsy with need and adrenaline. She shoved the fabric down her legs, the air against her bare skin feeling cool despite the tropical heat. He didn’t wait for her to step out of them completely before spinning her around with bruising force, pressing her front against the trunk.
The bark abraded her breasts, her belly, her thighs, intensifying every sensation until each nerve ending sung with awareness.
“Don’t move.” He pushed her hands to the trunk, silently commanding her to stay.
She gripped the tree, her nails biting into the bark. Behind her, something snapped and she turned. Hunter fisted the stem from a nearby aloe plant.
“What are you doing with that?”
He bit into the green branch, peeling open the leaf to expose the gel-like flesh on the inside. “Don’t you worry.” Scraping the natural liquid out of the plant with one hand, he tugged down his zipper with the other, that metallic rasp impossibly loud in the humid space.
Her eyes went wide as he fisted his swollen cock, stroking the aloe gel up and down his shaft until he was slick and fully coated. The heat of his hard body pressed against hers, his now lubricated cock hard and demanding.
“Hunter, wait!” Fear spiked through the arousal, sharp and clarifying.
“Nyet. You want me to stop, say the word.”
She bit down on her lips, knowing if she even mouthed the word stop he’d let go in a heartbeat. But the truth was, she lived for his wild domination. “Just…be gentle.”
“I’d slit my own throat before causing you pain.” His voice gentled fractionally, his hand stroking down her spine with surprising tenderness. “But you’re going to take it for me. You’re going to let me claim every part of you, mark you inside and out.” His fingers found her center, stroking through her slickness, finding her swollen and soaked, ready despite her protests. “And you’re going to love it. Aren’t you, Lisichka?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, the word torn from somewhere deep inside.
“That’s my good girl.” He worked her carefully, his fingers sliding through her wetness before moving to that forbidden place, circling, pressing, preparing. One finger breached her and she gasped at the foreign sensation—the burn, the stretch, the overwhelming fullness. He added a second finger and she whimpered, torn between wanting more and wanting mercy.
The aloe definitely helped. Despite his rough words, his touch was measured, patient. He worked her open slowly, thoroughly, his other hand reaching around to stroke her clit in maddening circles that made her hips buck against the tree trunk.
When he finally withdrew his fingers and positioned himself—the broad head of his cock pressing against that tight ring of muscle—she could taste copper in her mouth where she’d bitten her lip, could smell the rich earth scent of the solarium mixed with their combined arousal, could feel every atom of her body focused on that single point of contact.
“Breathe,” he commanded, one hand reaching around to stroke her where she needed it most, fingers slipping through her wetness with obscene ease. “Breathe and relax for me. Let me in.”
She did, pulling air into her lungs, air that tasted of orchids and sweat and sex. And, as she exhaled, he pressed forward. The burn was immediate, intense, stealing her breath. Her body fought the intrusion even as her mind screamed yes, yes, more.
“That’s it.” His voice was ragged now, control fracturing with each inch he gained. “Fuck, you feel incredible. So tight. So perfect. Moya.”
Inch by torturous inch, he filled her. The pain transformed into something else, something darker and sweeter that made her moan against the tree bark, the rough texture scraping her lips, her cheek. She felt split open, impaled, claimed in the most primal way possible.
When he was fully seated, they both stilled. Her pulse throbbed through every inch of her body. In her throat, her wrists, her core, around his cock buried so deep inside her she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. The humid air coated their joined bodies, making every movement slick, making her skin hypersensitive to every sensation.
“Say my name,” Hunter growled, his hips drawing back slowly before pressing forward again, establishing a rhythm that was both punishment and pleasure. “Make them jealous.”