Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
How dare he?! I let the anger build, using the outrage to mask the treacherous heat that was thrumming down to my groin. I locked eyes with him as I gripped the bottom of my crop top. I hate you, Gennadiy Aristov.
I inched the fabric higher, my eyes never leaving him. I felt it move up over the cups of my bra, but Gennadiy’s eyes didn’t move from mine. I pulled the crop top into a narrow band of fabric, then lifted my arms and pulled it up over my head and dropped it to the floor. His eyes still hadn’t moved. I could feel my breathing getting faster, and the heat was building, becoming a living thing that stole all control. At the same time, there was a sick fear, as I thought about him seeing the breasts I’d always been insecure about. I stirred the anger, thinking about how much I hated him to power me through it. Fuck you, Gennadiy. I reached behind me and unclipped my bra, then shrugged it off my shoulders. Our eyes were locked. Fuck you, Gennadiy. Fuck you. Fuck you—
I dropped my bra to the floor...and his eyes finally flicked down to my chest. The anxiety hit me, stealing my breath—
But then I saw the brooding, angry mask he always wore drop away and, for a second, he was open and unguarded. He sucked in his breath...and smiled like it was Christmas morning.
He doesn’t look disappointed. I blinked in shock. He looks…
His eyes narrowed in lust. His fingers sank deep into the cushioned leather on the couch’s backrest, and he exhaled, loud enough for me to hear it over the music. His eyes darted left and right, as if he couldn’t work out which breast he liked most. Then he finally managed to tear his gaze away and look me in the eye again, and the need I saw there made my knees go rubbery. I’d never been wanted so hard: not ever.
I hate him, I reminded myself. Hate him.
Everything else: the club, the mission, even Amvrosy, seemed to drop away. There was just Gennadiy, staring up at me from the couch, and me dancing topless in front of him. And as I moved to the music and watched him watching me, everything seemed to flip around. I’d been thinking of this whole thing as humiliatingly submissive, a slave girl dancing for a king. But…
His eyes were running over my body, now: he’d lost the fight to keep them on my face. I’d done that to him. I swayed left, and his head followed, his attention locked on me. I lifted my arms, momentarily hiding my breasts, and heard him grunt in frustration.
I had the power, here.
I took a step towards him, then another. God, the size of him, the sheer muscled power of him… I bit my lip as I gazed down at the X-shape of his body: broad torso, lean waist, and thighs thick with muscle. I looked at those big, tattooed hands that gripped the back of the couch. At any second, they could just grab me and pull me to him. It felt like teasing a bear.
I told myself I had to do it. But that wasn’t the reason I took that final, dangerous step, the one that brought me close enough to touch. I could feel that...gravity again. I hated him, hated everything he was. But there was something about him that drew me helplessly in.
His eyes raked up and down my body, bathing me in warmth. Our eyes locked again, and he leaned forward ever so slightly. He looked just as helpless as I did.
I turned my back to him, sank down, and straddled one of his legs. My leggings were so tight, and the material so soft, that I could feel the firmness of his muscled quad and the heat of him soaking through the thin fabric of his suit. I slid forward, riding his leg as I moved to the beat, then glided back until my ass kissed his abs. He caught his breath.
The blood was pounding in my ears. I braced my palms on the couch, either side of his legs, and shifted my ass inward, knowing what I’d find. I lifted myself and then lowered myself, right into his lap. At the first hot touch of his cock, I jerked, feeling it throb and harden between my ass cheeks. A wave of heat rushed up my body, flaring in my cheeks. My mortal enemy was getting hard from touching me. I should have been mad, I was mad, but—
But every touch of him, every rasp of his breath in my ear, made my groin ache and pulse with needy heat. Heat that was rapidly turning to wetness.
I pushed my ass back, stroking along his cock, and felt it surge upward through his pants, stiffening even more. God, he’s big. I pressed my naked back to his chest, the hard curves of his pecs warm through his shirt. I arched my spine and thrust my breasts up towards the ceiling. My head kissed his shoulder, my soft hair stroking the rough stubble on his cheek. It was meant to be a lap dance, impersonal and emotionless. But leaning back over him, half naked and vulnerable, it felt so intimate, so trusting. I closed my eyes and my whole world became the slow rise and fall of his body as he breathed, and the heat of his gaze as it roved over my breasts, my face, my lips….