Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“He’s not my fiancé,” I respond, unable to disguise the disgust in my voice.
“He certainly thinks he is,” Viktor says with a smile. “He says you’re his property and he will do whatever it takes to get you back.”
“I’m no one’s property,” I say, my voice rising. “Not his and certainly not yours. I belong to myself.”
I hate that he’s found exactly how to get under my skin. I especially hate that I’m reacting to it all. I should be staying calm and collected, but he’s gotten to me.
“And you’ve decided to let yourself starve,” he answers thoughtfully. “What a great use of your free will.”
“When I die, my blood will be on your hands,” I remind him through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would just let me go.”
“Oh, Anya,” he says in a pitying tone. “Do you really think that resigning yourself to death gives you control? It’s desperate and transparent. You’re better than this.”
I grab the chips and lob them at his head. He only flinches a little as they hit him squarely on the forehead.
“Maybe not,” I say, grabbing the plate and throwing the whole thing at him. He dodges that, and it falls to the floor with a satisfying crash.
“Stop being so childish,” he goads me.
“Let me leave!” I scream at him. “Or let me die.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he answers, getting up and moving into my space. He braces himself on the table, leaning over me. “You will eat, and you will behave, and you won’t force me to break into your room again.”
He’s so close, I can feel his breath on my face. My heart races at the closeness in a way I don’t understand.
“Make me,” I challenge him, and don’t miss the way his eyes darken.
I don’t know which of us moves first. It happens so fast. One moment we’re staring each other down, the next, our lips are locked in a passionate embrace and he’s pulling me up, spinning me around, and pinning me on top of the table.
My hands reach for his shirt, pulling and tugging until it’s gone and my hands are free to roam over his bulky muscles. He’s absolutely ripped underneath that button-up shirt. Even his muscles have muscles. I’m overtaken by a desperate desire to lick them. I blame the hunger.
He wastes no time stripping me down. He removes my pants before pulling me up to remove my shirt, all the while, never breaking the contact between his lips and my skin. He kisses me everywhere. My face, my neck, my chest.
I want to smother him. I want to rob him of all of his breath until he’s gasping for air. I grab the back of his head and pull him back to my lips, hoping in some delusional way that I can steal his breath. The harder he breathes, the more triumphant I feel. It grows inside of me like an ache.
There’s so little I can control right now, but I can control this one insane moment.
My hands wander down his chest and over the soft hair of his happy trail until I can feel his erection tenting through his boxers. When I reach for it, it causes him to breathe heavily.
His hands slide down to my hips, where he slowly pulls down my underwear. This is insane. The heat of the moment rushes to my head, and I feel almost dizzy. I want this. I also don’t. I hate him. I also need to control him. I need to consume him.
I pull his cock from his boxers and position him at my entrance. He may be on top of me, but we both know I’m the one with the power here. I could tease him. I could bring him so close to the edge of pleasure and then end this, walk away, leave him panting and desperate.
He’s holding his breath now, waiting for me to make a decision. I hope it’s torturing him. I hope he’s losing his fucking mind right now.
“Anya,” he whispers in a broken voice, and I know that I’ve got him exactly where I want him.
I nearly laugh as I open myself to him, pulling him inside of me. He groans out low and slow, nearly collapsing on top of me in relief. Good.
I set the pace. He moves inside of me, but I control our movements. He thrusts wildly, but he’s left with the knowledge that I could end this at any time. Damn it, I hate how good he feels, though. He’s big and he knows what to do with every inch of his cock. He finds places inside of me that I didn’t even know felt good, and he pushes in deeply.
I try desperately not to let myself get lost in the sensation of it, but it’s a losing battle. With every thrust and every kiss, he’s pulling me closer and closer to the edge of my sanity. He hits a spot that feels so good, I can’t contain the moan that comes out of me. Then, as if he’s memorizing me, he hits it over and over until I’m screaming and careening toward the finish line.