Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
How embarrassing. Whether I get to climax or not, he has humiliated me deeply. He has shown me that he can wind me up into this state of insane need. I want to push my hand down between my legs and make myself come, but the second I try, he grabs my wrist and pins it behind my back. I thought I was controlled before, but I am more controlled than ever now.
“I need to explain something to you,” he says. “Listen carefully.”
I don’t really have any choice.
“You are my mate,” he says. “You are my fated mate, a person created for me. Your body was made for mine. I have tried to avoid the realization, but I cannot. You are mine. And you will be coming home with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m taking you back home,” he says.
I squirm up on his lap, which I’m surprised he lets me do, but the notion that I’m going to be taken to what is to me a foreign country just because he says so is too much.
“I don’t want to go to Russia. No offense, but I don’t think Mom brought me here just so I could go back there.”
Also, he’s a stranger, and his assumption that he can just take me to another country is wild. Even in the midst of the most intense sadness I’ve ever felt, that feels insane.
He might be insane. I should consider that. The hotness and the sadness might be getting in the way of me noticing if he has some truly unhinged traits.
Alphas are sometimes quite odd, I’ve heard. Trent was actually pretty normal, but he’s a very small fish in a very big pond. Alexei is a much bigger fish in a much bigger pond. He might be one of the biggest fish on the planet. So saying no to him, that’s probably not an option.
If my mom were alive, she wouldn’t think twice about telling him to fuck off. She would tell him that I have my own life to live, and he has no right to interfere. She’d tell him that I was brought to America to live free, and all the rest of it.
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and uses it as a grip. Electricity zaps between us. I feel my knees getting weak as an arousal so intense I barely experience it as desire overcomes me. I feel like I’m going absolutely insane with need around him, and that’s not okay.
I pull away from him, entirely freaked out. I start to cry simply from being overwhelmed, grabbing at my underwear to pull them back up, trying to get some semblance of dignity back.
“This isn’t what Mom wanted,” I sob. The words don’t match my feelings, but they provide some kind of cover for the absolute torrent of desire and emotion that is coursing through me. I know I should go to college. I should make my mother proud. But all I want to do is fuck this man who is damn near twice my age and has an uncanny ability to make me feel safe.
I hear him sigh, and I fear that I have disappointed him, but what he says next is soft and understanding.
“I will make you a deal,” he says. “If you go to college, live out the best life you claim to be able to live, the life your mother wanted you to live, then I will leave you be. But, if you fail your classes, or stop attending, I will come for you.”
“You’re not my father.”
The words come out of my mouth almost reflexively. I blush having said them because I know they make me sound young and immature. I want so badly for Alexei to take me seriously. I want him to look at me like a woman. I want him to…
“I know,” he says. “The things I will do to you when you either finish college, or drop out again, are things no father should ever do.”
I feel myself blush bright red. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” I mumble under my breath. Does he know what he’s doing to me? Does he know how I crave him? How I taunt him to punish me because that’s the only way I get to have physical contact with him? I hope not. Right now, Alexei is the only person in my life who has any kind of close authority. He doesn’t feel like a father, but I never knew my dad, so this might be the closest thing. Trust me to make something twisted and weird.
“I speak the truth,” he says, that deep voice and thick accent doing nothing to make his words any less hot.
I pull away, turn, and run, actually kind of run away from him. He lets me go and I escape to my bedroom where I start packing. Then something hits me, a little practicality I’d almost forgotten.