Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Just as I lined myself up, her muscles went rigid, like she was bracing herself.
I pushed in, ready to fuck some obedience into her.
She hadn’t said no. She hadn’t said yes, either.
But her body was begging for it. That had to be enough—for now.
I craved to claim her like a fucking animal.
Hot, feral, and fucking brutal.
She wasn’t going to walk right for a week.
She would beg for me. Beg me to stop and beg me to fuck her again and again.
When I was done, she would be addicted to my cock, and I was going to love every fucking second.
I thrust the head of my cock into her tight hole and shifted my hips forward, knowing I would have to first ease her body into accepting the thick girth or I risked tearing her.
And that was when I felt it…
Resistance.
I froze.
There was no way.
She had been married. Then it clicked. Yes, married. But to a sick bastard with one foot in the grave.
Christ. She was virgin.
A virgin.
Untouched.
Until me.
The very idea that my cock was the first to feel the sweet tight clench of her pussy sent a bolt of something dark and primal ripping through me.
Not just arousal. Possession.
I was going to be her first.
Her only.
The impossible thought came unbidden—and yet, I couldn’t shake it.
Her only.
She was mine now.
“You’re still a virgin?” I asked. It came out as more of an accusation.
Zoya turned her head, her green eyes flashing with something lethal, something more than hatred or embarrassment.
I didn’t care. This was more important.
“Your husband didn’t fuck you on your wedding night? How is that possible?”
Her smirk was sharp, wicked even. “Maybe he could have gotten his flaccid dick up…if I hadn’t slit his throat first. He bled out so quickly, I don’t think he even had the chance to pop that little blue pill.”
I laughed.
The hatred and the vitriol in her voice mixed with this undeniable quick-witted snark was incredible.
Because of course she had.
Everyone assumed one of her father’s enemies killed her husband, or maybe some jilted lover. Hell, even I assumed that without a second thought.
But no.
This little minx took matters into her own hands.
Her husband would have never seen it coming. He would have had no idea that her father had sold him a black widow.
Well, that wasn’t true. Black widows fucked their mates before they killed them. She just slit his throat. Vicious and efficient.
I backed away from her, tucking my cock back into my pants before turning her over then wrapping my hands around her narrow hips, lifting her into a sitting position on the desktop.
She winced as her freshly spanked ass hit the cold, dented wood of the desk.
I took a little pride in that wince.
Her legs were still open, inviting, and goddamn, I wanted to drop to my knees and worship that perfect little virgin cunt. To get it ready for me to claim.
Instead, I grabbed her jaw, forcing her eyes to meet mine until our lips almost brushed, the sexual tension thick between us.
“Is that supposed to be a warning? If I try to fuck you, are you going to slit my throat, too?”
She bared her teeth in something between a snarl and a grin. “It’s a promise.”
I barely jerked my head back in time when she snapped forward, her teeth trying to sink into my bottom lip.
I almost let her do it.
“Fiery little thing,” I muttered, releasing her and taking a step back.
My fingers trailed over the belt still wrapped around her throat before I unfastened it and replaced it with my hand.
I gave her a slow, predatory smile. “We’ll see about that, printsessa.”
She was still panting, her eyes burning with fury and something else, something deeper, darker. Like ignited desire.
I knew mine reflected the same thing back at her. Before she could lunge for me or try to attack me in any way, which I knew she was planning, I sat her ass back down on the chair and secured her wrists and ankles in the shackles.
Zoya fought me with every move.
She screamed at me, spewed curses and even tried to bite me a few more times. I considered letting her just so I could feel her teeth sink into my flesh and her lips touch me again.
It was only fair.
She had felt the sting of my hands; I wanted to feel the bite of her teeth.
Soon.
Instead, I turned my back on her to leave.
Her angry shouts followed me out the door.
I didn’t hear them.
I was more focused on how stunning she looked as she fought me and how incredible she would feel when she finally submitted to me.
CHAPTER 11
ROMAN
She almost broke me.
I was supposed to break her—make her submit, get the answers we needed, and forget her name.
That was the plan.
It should have worked.
She was nothing but a pawn. Meant to be used. Sacrificed.