Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
She bucks against me.
She wants more.
So I stroke deeper, so she feels every thick inch.
“You feel what you do to me?” I growl against her throat, teeth grazing her skin. “You feel how crazy you make me?”
I thrust into her harder and she cries out, her fingernails raking down my back.
Her thighs lock around my waist and I hit deeper.
I grind into her, every thrust claiming her, worshiping her.
“God, malyshka,” I groan, her cries hitting higher and higher with every deep thrust.
She sobs out my name as she comes, her body arching, every muscle locking around me as she unravels.
I keep going. I want to give her everything. My pleasure. My pain. My fucking life.
Then I come, roaring against her throat, my hips jerking, my body shuddering, my cock pulsing hard inside her, and filling her with everything I have.
Sweat pours off me, my chest rising and falling against hers as I catch my breath. Her fingers stroke through my hair as the silence settles thick and perfect between us.
“Tell me you don’t regret it,” I whisper against her throat.
“Regret what?”
“Marrying me.”
Her lips part, but nothing comes out. She’s thinking, and it’s killing me every second she says nothing.
“Say you don’t,” I growl, brushing my lips along her jaw to the tender spot beneath her ear. “Say you don’t before I go insane.”
“You are insane,” she whispers with a smile.
My teeth graze her neck. “That’s not an answer.”
She’s deliberately torturing me.
She clamps her palms either side of my skull and lifts my head so she can see my face.
“Being married to you is absolute craziness.”
I can’t help but grin. “Are you’re surprised?”
Her smile is beautiful. Because she enjoys toying with me. “I mean, I only met you three days ago.”
I press my forehead to hers. “Tell me you don’t regret it.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“Semantics,” I whisper with a grin. “Now, put me out of my misery and tell me you like being my wife.”
“A thousand yeses, remember?”
“But I want to hear you say it.”
“You might have to torture it out of me.”
I’m about to protest. But she shifts beneath me. Bites down on her lip. I’m still hard. Still inside her. And the way she starts to clench my cock with her pussy tells me this conversation is over and we’ve got more pressing things to attend to.
27
NIKOLAI
Something pulls me from sleep.
But not a sound.
Instinct.
That sixth sense that’s kept me alive when I should be dead.
My eyes open.
The room is still and painted in shadow. Holly's warmth is pressed against me, her back curved into my chest, her breathing slow and even.
For a moment, I don't move. I listen. I strain to hear beyond her breathing, beyond the settling of the old lodge, beyond the whisper of wind against the windows.
There.
A creak somewhere down stairs. It’s not the house breathing. Not the cold contracting wood and stone. It’s something out of place.
Footsteps.
Someone is inside the lodge.
Every muscle in my body tenses as a need to protect Holly rushes forward. But I force myself to move slowly so I don’t make any noise.
Carefully, I disentangle myself from Holly so I won’t startle her awake. She stirs, makes a soft sound, but settles back to sleep.
I scan the darkness. The bedroom door is open. The windows are intact. The shadows in the corners are empty. For now.
Another sound. Muffled voices trying very hard to be quiet.
There are two. No, three.
I reach for my underwear on the floor and pull them on in one fluid motion. Then I'm at the nightstand, easing the drawer open and wrapping my fingers around the cold grip of my gun.
My mind maps the lodge like a tactical grid. The handgun behind the dresser by the door. The knife taped beneath the hallway table. The shotgun in the study. The panic room in the basement with its reinforced door and surveillance feeds.
But the basement is too far. I’m going to have to confront whatever is coming face to face.
I move to Holly's side of the bed. One hand reaches for her, the other keeps the gun raised toward the door.
"Malyshka." My voice is barely a breath against her ear. "Wake up."
She stirs then awakens. In the pale moonlight, I watch confusion cloud her features. Then fear.
"Nikolai? What—"
I press my finger gently to her lips. "Listen to me. I need you to take this." I press the gun into her hands and guide her fingers around the grip. "Do you know how to use it?"
She nods, her eyes wide and dark in the shadows.
"Good. Now get under the bed. Stay there. Don't come out for anyone but me. If someone else finds you, you point and you squeeze. Do you understand?"
"Nikolai." Her voice trembles. "What's happening?"
A floorboard groans somewhere below us.
I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you," I tell her, and I mean it with every dark and violent piece of my soul.