Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
When we reached my room, I turned to Mik’hail without meeting his eyes. “Good night, akh.” My voice came out strange. Hollow. “I should—”
But before I could finish, he took my hand and led me inside, closing the door behind us.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Aurora.”
Just my name. But the way he said it—like it was something precious, something that belonged only to him—made my chest ache.
“Now that my sister’s back,” I made myself say, “I understand if you need to—”
“We’ll have to delay our wedding, yes.” His voice was grave. “Aretha will never forgive you if you make her attend in a ghastly cast.”
All I could do was stare at him.
“Can you imagine? All those photographs with her leg propped up on a pillow?” He shook his head, mouth twitching. “She would hold it against you forever.”
And just like that, all the fear and uncertainty that had been building inside me since Gordan said her name—
I burst into ugly, noisy tears as Mik’hailed pulled me into his arms. I’m sorry, God. I’m so sorry for being selfish.
“I was terrified you’d leave me now that my s-sister’s—”
“Aretha and I were never lovers,” the sheikh said tautly. “Not in the way you and I are. I am sorry for what she’s gone through, and I will, of course, ensure she receives the best of care. But do not let this blind you to the past, Aurora. She was never faithful to me. And she was never kind to you.”
“I k-know. It’s just—”
“You are the one I want.” His arms tightened around me. “And it will always be so.”
I had no chance to answer, with the sheikh taking my lips in a kiss that started soft and gentle before deepening into something that we both needed. I could feel him holding back as our bodies pressed closer, could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his whole body trembled with the effort of being gentle.
He undressed me slowly. Reverently. Pressing kisses to each inch of skin as it was revealed—my shoulder, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. By the time he finally eased the dress away, I was trembling so hard I could barely think.
I wanted to cover myself. Wanted to hide. But the way he was looking at me—like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—made it impossible to move.
“How beautiful you are.”
The roughness of his voice had my cheeks burning. I didn’t know where to look, what to do with my hands. I had never felt so exposed in my life.
“Please.” It was the only word I could manage. “Please, Mik’hail.”
Something in his expression cracked, and then he was kissing me again. Longer. Deeper. And so, so fiercely that I could only gasp for air as his lips finally trailed down my throat.
He touched me with the kind of care that brought tears to my eyes. He took his time, driving me slowly and exquisitely mad with his hands and his mouth until I was shaking beneath him, breathless and aching and half out of my mind.
“Mik’hail—” His name came out broken. Desperate. “Please—”
“Please what?” His voice was low. Dark.
But I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t form the words. All I could do was pull at his robes, trying to bring him closer, needing to feel his skin against mine.
And of course he understood.
If I paused to think about it, my sheikh had always understood what I wanted before I even needed it, and when we were finally skin to skin, the warmth of his body had me gasping anew. He just felt so powerfully solid and real—
Oh, Mik’hail.
I thought I knew what to expect. But I realized I didn’t know anything at all the moment he claimed me his. The pain was a sharp sting that had me jerking at first, but because Mik’hail was perfectly still and patient, the discomfort gradually faded while I became increasingly aware of how beautifully strange it was, to be finally one with the only man I had ever loved...and the only one I’d love for the rest of my life.
The sheikh’s movements started out like most of his kisses. Soft, slow, and gentle at first. Mik’hail waiting with the patience of a lion, biding his time while he focused on driving me crazy. He didn’t speed up even though I found myself driving my nails into the panes of his back. He kept that slow, devastating rhythm until I was clutching at his shoulders, gasping his name, my whole body wound so tight I thought I might shatter.
“Mik’hail...”
And finally, oh finally.
It was like finally seeing the real him underneath the courteous manners and warrior-like strength. Once his control broke, he was all danger, power, and speed, and to feel his powerful body shudder against mind as pleasure crashed over us at the same time—