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)
His cum spurting hotly inside me is the first reminder we didn’t use protection.
The sheer ownership on Andrik’s face is the second.
15
ANDRIK
It took me offering a majority share to Brody’s, the bar inside the Broadbent Hotel, and a no-touch promise for Mikhail to agree to deliver Zoya to a location that would offer discretion so I could discuss my dilemma with her like the astute businessman I’m meant to be.
In under ten seconds, I blew my pledge to keep my hands to myself.
Her smell.
Her lusty eyes.
That fucking shirt… Christ.
I was torn between ripping it off her and leaving it on the floor of the elevator in shreds or smearing it with cum and forcing her to wear it every day of the week.
Even after calling me every name under the sun when I failed to deny my current marital status, Mikhail upheld his end of our agreement. That alone should announce he isn’t my competition, but one sniff of his cologne on Zoya’s skin sent my head into a tailspin.
It is still reeling now.
I want to bang my chest and tell every man to back the fuck up. I want to make her mine in every essence of the word. To do that, I must turn my back on a promise I made to myself many years ago.
That’s not an easy accomplishment.
I don’t know a single man who could give up everything he’s been working toward for over two decades for a woman he’s only known for twenty-four hours, much less a woman going by an alias.
I’m reasonably sure Zoya isn’t lying about her given name, but I’ve had my security team search high and low for a Zoya Galdean over the past several hours.
Their search has yet to yield a single result.
I’m sure I can extract the truth from her. I must keep a cool, calm head, however, if I want to have my cake and eat it too.
I can’t do that in a square box that smells of lust and depravity.
Trades on the black market the CIA would cream their pants to net is a walk in the park compared to the effort it takes me to slowly notch out of Zoya and place her back on her feet.
My pupils blow wide when the removal of my cock is quickly chased by a line of my semen dribbling down Zoya’s thigh. I’m not shocked. I am fucking stoked. There’s nothing more claiming than taking a woman bareback, and although this is the first time in twenty-two years that I’ve let go of the reins enough to unearth its brilliance, it won’t be the last.
No fucking chance.
“I… ah…” When Zoya peers down at the mess before scanning the floor of the elevator for something to clear away the goop, I pull a handkerchief out of the pocket of my trousers bunched halfway past my ass before placing it between her legs.
One touch and she’s burning up everywhere, ready for round two.
It was the same last night. Our chemistry is potent enough to fire through hours of exhaustion and numerous demands for sleep. It displays that one taste would never be enough. We require hit after hit, and even then my cravings won’t be satisfied.
My cock is thickening now just at the thought of taking her again.
But I need to take this elsewhere.
There are ears everywhere, but they’re worse when royalty is in town.
My father will be the next president of Russia, and I’m meant to be his successor. That makes the vultures of the media extra hungry. They dig through trash every morning with the hope they’ll find something they can use against my family, so imagine how rampant they’ll become if they learn the once deemed “head bachelor of the Dokovic realm” is still playing the field so soon after the federation removed his single status on all his social media sites.
They’d have a field day knocking down my family pegs more than the federation already has, but since I’d rather save the bloodshed for the true culprits of my family’s demise, I must play it safe.
After watching Zoya clean up the mess I suddenly want to stuff back inside her, I tug down her skirt before pushing the emergency stop button on the elevator panel.
As the car jerks back into action, I curl my hand around Zoya’s. I’m not usually a hand-holding guy, but the surge it causes to her pulse makes it another item I add to my ever-growing list of wants.
“I should probably get something since we forgot to use protection,” Zoya says at the same time I ask, “Are you in any pain?”
I mistook her grimace about how lax we were with protection as a hurtful expression.
I’m a soft cock.
What should sound like an assurance comes out shady since it is forced through clenched teeth. “I’m clean, but I can get tested again if you’re worried.”