Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
There’s nothing nice about my hold this time around, nothing brotherly to it. It is the grip of a murderer, and one that leaves my little brother so breathless he scratches at my hand, certain he is moments from death.
Once his lips turn a fascinating shade of blue, I loosen my grip. Not a lot. Just enough to ensure his panic is low enough he will hear the sheer honesty of my words. “If you touch her, I will kill you.”
For some insane reason, I want to protect Zoya. The easiest way to achieve that would be to keep her as far away from my family as possible.
That isn’t something I can do.
Zoya Galdean is mine, and I’ll annihilate anyone who implies otherwise. I just can’t announce that publicly until I fix the monumental fuckup I initiated last night that has nothing to do with bedding the woman I’m certain will destroy me.
10
ZOYA
An unusual aroma wakes me. It isn’t unpleasant, more unexpected. It is citrusy and fresh, a stark contradiction to the smells I’m accustomed to waking up to in my apartment.
My building is on the worst street in Myasnikov, yet probably the safest.
Greed is a slavery that will never entrap the poor.
After scrubbing a hand over my eyes I’m certain are a mess, I peer in the direction of the scent. The fruity fragrance makes sense when I discover an oversized glass of orange juice on the bedside table. It is butted against an unopened packet of pain medication.
My body is sore enough to warrant intervention, just not in the way I expected when I gave in to my desires last night. I thought the pain would be unwanted because I never anticipated for it to be a pleasurable throb.
My muscles are sore, but it is more in response to the number of orgasms I experienced than the side effects of endometriosis.
Last night was amazing, and although some could say my high rating could be attributed to a long abstinence from sex, I’m doubtful.
Andrik rocked my world, proving his cocky statement in Dr. Hemway’s examination room was true.
No man has ever fucked me like he did, and I doubt any man after him will compare.
Is it wrong of me to contemplate future bedmates so soon after my last conquest? I would have said no if I’d detected an ounce of Andrik’s presence in his home. If the lack of arrogance in the air is anything to go by, he left hours ago.
Although caffeine will always be my go-to pick-me-up, I swallow two pain tablets with a mouthful of orange juice before slinging my legs off the edge of the bed and taking a leisurely stretch.
I’m as naked as the day I was born, which means there’s no coverage for the mess my condition caused the no-doubt three-thousand-plus thread count sheets.
I had no clue I had bled last night. Not the slightest bit of disgust crossed Andrik’s face when he plucked me from the living room floor and walked me to the kitchen to quieten the loud demands of my hungry stomach.
He was so attentive and sweet while replenishing the energy he had exhausted that the shock of the unexpected treatment saw us undertaking round two shortly after the first round had wrapped up.
That time, dessert was consumed on the kitchen counter.
Page thirty-three was as mind-boggling as the cartoon characters portrayed, and it had me swooning like crazy.
I passed out from exhaustion on Andrik’s mammoth bed seconds after the umpteenth orgasm careened through my body. I’m reasonably sure Andrik was on the brink of exhaustion with me, but I can’t attest to that. That’s how out of it I was.
Mercifully the smears of blood on the sheets are faint. Not faded enough for me not to strip the bedding and search for a washing machine, but they’re not so horrific that I’ll need to purchase a new set.
“Come on. There has to be a laundry room here somewhere,” I murmur to myself when my search of every nook and cranny surrounding the living room comes up empty-handed. There are a hundred spots to hang a coat, but not a single washing machine to be seen.
When I return to the bedroom, lugging the sheets I stripped from the mattress, I sling my eyes to the massive walk-in closet. I only saw one-half of it when I snuck into the bathroom in the darkness of the night to pee away any possible nasties. What I saw was impressive. The room has side-by-side walk-in closets that lead to a bathroom as large as the living room.
I didn’t see a washer–dryer combo, but my visit was shrouded by darkness. It’s large enough to hold a concealed laundry area, so I head toward the opening wide enough to park my car between.
I’ll never be more grateful for a king-size bed when I’m greeted upon entering the walk-in closet.