Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I fisted her hair and she moaned in approval, feeling the vibration down my cock and shooting up to my balls. My muscles tightened and my knuckles dug into her scalp. She looked up at me with hooded eyes. My wife liked it rough and hard, as much as she loved sweet and slow love making.
I kept my eyes on Ayla, watching her work my cock when her words registered to my mind.
My lips quirked up, and I honestly tried to fight the smirk.
But it was impossible. Could you believe it?
Alessio Ivanshov had played matchmaker. Fucking fairy-godmother, right there. With a magic wand and all. Although right now, my wife was sucking my wand like she was starving for my taste.
Life was fucking good. Definitely.
Chapter 12
Viktor
I watched her lay in her bed, surrounded by all the white, fluffy pillows and the comforter. Her eyes were closed, and she hadn’t noticed me enter her room.
She was lost in her thoughts while I was lost in watching her.
The rise of her chest as she took each breath. I scanned her face, watching, staring, studying every inch of her features. She looked like the image of innocence lying there.
Golden hair. Hazel eyes with a hint of green specks. Soft skin I wanted to touch. Would she blush under my hands? Would she moan into my kisses? Like last night…
She was an innocent soul I wanted to corrupt. A forbidden beauty I wanted to steal away.
I remembered the way she had writhed under me, the way her lips parted in a silent gasp when I kissed her sweet cunt.
Her scent was intoxicating.
I remembered her sweetness, how her honey-saturated flesh tasted on my tongue, and I licked my lips.
Fuck, I wanted to taste her again. Craved it. I have had just one taste, and I was already a man obsessed.
Rubbing my fingers over my lips, I caught a little faded scent of her pussy. I knew it wasn’t there. It was all in my head. She was so fucking ingrained in my head that I could still smell her flowered-fragrant essence. Roses and peaches. Sweetest pussy I ever had.
I kept seated, giving her time to feel my presence. And when she finally did, her eyes popped open in shock. Her lips parted in surprise and she stared at me. Our eyes met, and then her gaze traveled to the length of me, as if she were really making sure I was here. Really here, in her bedroom, watching her like a fucking stalker.
But what could I say?
I was a damn sexy stalker. And I knew exactly how to make my prey melt into my arms and then melt into a puddle of need at my feet, on her knees.
Raising an eyebrow, I nodded toward her nightstand where she kept my pen—now her pen—and the notepad. Valerie sat up and quickly fished out the stuff. I noticed the way she swallowed. The sweet myshka was nervous. I bet her heart was racing right now, a little scared, anxious with a hint of excitement.
“What are you doing here?” she wrote on the paper.
I shrugged instead of replying. She didn’t need to know my thoughts…my dark…filthy thoughts.
Instead, I nodded toward the tray of food on her nightstand. I had the maid bring it up to Valerie after doing some “research.” Like I said, I was a man obsessed.
The need to know everything about her was overwhelming.
That included her favorite food. I had walked into the kitchen and subtly asked my questions.
Fuck, if Alessio would hear me now, he’d laugh until he wheezed.
“I am not very hungry,” she tried to say, but I ignored the words written on paper.
“Eat.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, sat back against the couch, and waited. She let out a small sigh, and I watched as she did as I demanded.
Valerie picked up a freshly baked croissant and took a small bite.
She instantly closed her eyes when the taste hit her. Chocolate. Her favorite. She quickly took another bite, chewing enthusiastically. I loved a woman who enjoyed her food and didn’t push around salads in their plates.
Damn, I really was fucked.
When she let out a small moan, the littlest sound, I shifted in my seat when the monster bulge between my legs grew uncomfortable.
I wondered if she’d make the same appreciative moan around my dick.
Valerie Solonik had a way of turning my head into a mess. She was dangerous to me, but I guessed I liked to dance with a little danger.
Before I knew it, I was up and walking to her. She was sitting up, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. There was a pull between us. It was undeniable and carnal.
I found myself sitting beside her on the bed, so close…close enough to reach forward and slide a finger up her neck and her face, feeling her silky skin under my fingertips.