Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I had to know. I had to use her moment of vulnerability to find the answer I desperately sought.
She’s mine.
The words that had run through my head with Vasya blare through me like a klaxon again.
Eva is a firebrand, just as I imagined. She isn’t some woman looking to seduce me for the power and money I represent. Not like the ones who lie there quietly, trying not to look at my face, their gaze elsewhere as I grunt above them.
No, Eva could give me blow for blow if I let her. She is the type who doesn’t like taking orders.
That’s when I realize that Eva never once looked away from my face, from my scars. She even put her hands on them before tangling her fingers in my hair.
A host of emotions assault me, emotions I don’t want to feel or even entertain. The anger rushes back, hotter than before, and I pick up a weight and hurl it into the mirror with a roar.
It shatters with the tinkling sound of rain, leaving a carpet of glimmering shards across the floor.
10
EVA
The sun sinks, and the sky goes fully dark as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. I’ve been here since I ran back to my room, cleaned up, and flopped down.
My mind is a mess. There are thoughts spiraling, careening, and racing so fast I can barely catch one. Most of all, I’m trying to make sense of what just happened.
I hadn’t even meant to wander into the northern wing of the house. Dmitri hadn’t given me an exact boundary, and when I’d found a hallway filled with art off a random room, I thought I was safe. Bored and looking for something to do, but safe.
How wrong I’d been.
And now? My core still thrums with Evgeny’s heat, with the feel of him inside me. His lips set my skin on fire as he trailed kisses down my body.
My head is still buzzing from the mind-blowing orgasms that ripped through me, blotting out the world, only for it to come crashing back in. I have never, not once, felt that kind of heat with anyone else before.
I’ve never seen a body like Evgeny’s, either. All taut muscle and sinew, like a jungle cat moving through the trees, power coiled to strike, muscles rippling under his skin. I wish I’d had more time and more presence of mind to study the scars covering the left side of his body or ask about the intricate tattoos telling a story across his skin. I was right to call him Mr. Giant for more reasons than one as well.
A flush climbs my cheeks at the thought, my core fluttering and tightening with need in response. The fact that I gave in to Evgeny galls me to no end. I should have shoved him away and left before anything happened. But my body had other plans, and I’d given in to my desperate desire to see what it felt like to have his hands running all over my body.
Yet even though he made me beg, and despite the intensity of our wild sex, Evgeny had been oddly gentle. He hadn’t done anything without giving me an out first. And for a brief flash of a moment, I thought I’d seen something soft in his eyes as he stared down at me, both of us lost in post-orgasmic bliss.
But he had turned so swiftly, so terrifyingly, into a beast. I can still feel his hand tightening around my throat, the terror that instantly replaced my daze, the knowledge that all he had to do was tighten his grip to kill me.
And it makes me so angry.
On that thought, my frustration pushes me out of bed in search of food. I can’t deny that the afternoon’s exercise has left me ravenous.
I offer silent thanks to Alona as I raid the fridge, falling on the food like I haven’t eaten in days, fueled by anger, spite, and hunger.
“Whoa there. Slow down or you’ll choke.”
I nearly choke at the voice suddenly behind me, coughing until my eyes water. Vasya laughs as he hands me a glass of water.
“Told you,” he says.
I glare at him, cough one more time, and take another bite of food.
Vasya gives me a look over his shoulder as he opens the freezer. “What’s up with you tonight?”
“Just had a bad day.”
“Is Evgeny on the other end of that bad day?”
I say nothing, stuffing half a piece of bread in my mouth to keep anything from slipping out that shouldn’t.
“Ah. I see.” Vasya chuckles as he pulls a bottle of Perrier from the fridge and what looks like an ice cream bar from the freezer, then turns back toward me. “That’s how people usually feel about him.”
“I’m not surprised,” I grumble, swallowing.