Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
As our wild fuck soothes to lovemaking, Miranda’s little mewls pick up. They clutch at my throat as vigorously as her pussy clutches my cock.
Who knew something so simple could bring a man to his knees?
“I need you to come again, printsessa. I need you nice and wet to make my sperms’ swim effortless.”
“Nero…” Her husky delivery of my name makes her seem cautionary. Her body is on the opposite end of the spectrum. It stills for half a second before it shakes in the brilliance of a fire-sparking climax.
Miranda moans my name again, louder this time, as the tight clamps of her pussy set me off. I come with a roar, my cock throbbing as sperm rockets out of me.
Then I realize we’re not alone two seconds before Miranda.
18
NERO
“I swear on my middle finger’s life, I didn’t see shit.” Eight nervously shifts from foot to foot, weakening the honesty of his statement.
He’s called Eight because he’s a fucking giant, often seeming closer to eight feet than seven, he was born in the eighth month of the year, his given name is August, and he has only eight fingers.
Eight swears one of his finger removals was an accident.
He won’t tell anyone about how he lost digit number two.
He has no reason to lie, but I appreciate his endeavor to pull me over the fence. “You were way too up in her business to get the slightest peek. Can’t say I blame you. Your girl is fine.”
Miranda, who I know has been listening in from the start since her perfume grew more noticeable when Eight knocked on the door of my room in the Clark’s compound to issue his tenth apology, giggles during his last statement.
I veer my fist toward his eyes.
“Jesus fucking Christ. I was giving her a compliment. Not an invitation to my bed.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Keep your beady eyes off my woman. Clothed or naked.”
While pffting like I have no reason for my anger, he hands me a wadded piece of paper. When our eyes lock, he silently pleads for me to open it in private.
When I nod, suddenly remorseful that my jealousy has me seeing friends as enemies, Eight pivots on his heel and stalks down the corridor.
He’s partway down when I try to make up for his bloody nose. “She’s single.”
He cranks his neck back to face me, his smile announcing he appreciates my extension of an olive branch but that he has no intention of letting me off easily. “Who?”
I play stupid as well as I do jealous. “A giant doesn’t want a boneless carcass to feast on. He needs meat. Lots of juicy meat.”
It’s fucked to admit this while standing across from my brother in arms, but I’ll never be a man who tiptoes around the truth. I much prefer stomping on it.
I’m hard as stone and uncaring who knows it since my room door has a lock, and the woman from my dreams is making herself at home in my domain.
With a grin of a serial killer, Eight says, “I’ll buy you an hour. Any longer than that, you’re on your own.”
His reply has me wishing he was dead. Eight only knocks at your door when you’re being summoned. That summoning only occurs around here by one man. Nikolai.
This kills me to admit, but I never thought the day would come where I’d put a woman above my loyalty to Nikolai.
Today is that day.
When Nikolai underhandedly threatened Miranda, I almost lost my shit. It was only when I recalled why his guards are up did my anger sit the fuck down.
He wasn’t pissed about the massive hit his empire just took, or that someone is playing him for a fool. He’s worried about Justine and how she will handle the best caterer in the state playing hooky on her big day.
He wants to protect his ahren from a bucketload of disappointment as readily as I’m striving to do the same for my butterfly.
After a quick work of my jaw, I open the note.
As expected, it is from Nikolai.
Need to see you at P’s.
Bring your girl.
When I flick my eyes up, my thoughts a mix between fuck no and double fuck no, Miranda strays her eyes to mine. She’s holding an invoice in her hand, and a deep groove is scoured between her dark brows.
“Did you witness Roy replace my birth control pills, or did he tell you he did that?”
I grind my back molars together to lessen the severity of my scorn while pacing closer to her. “I witnessed him do it.”
“When?” She doesn’t sound angry. She is more curious than anything.
I think back to the numerous times I saw her almost build the courage to leave him before I rewind back to the only time he gave me any indication he wanted to keep her for himself.