Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Enfin.
His hands found the hem of her dress, and it was easy to push the bloody thing up and get it out of the way with Liana shakily raising her hips in assistance. They were both naked in moments, her breasts heaving, his length throbbing violently, and when their eyes met under the blanket, Sylvain nearly groaned at the way she was biting her lip.
His wife gasped as he bent his head to capture one rosy tip between his lips, her body arching against his as he began to suck. Tremors shook her delicate frame as his mouth traveled lower and lower and lower...until he was at eye level with the most intimate part of her.
"Don't stare," his wife begged.
But of course he paid no heed to this.
Silly girl.
Had she forgotten that every inch of her was his?
Her dewy flesh beckoned, and he was unable to resist. His Liana moaned as he parted her thighs, and then she was arching once more at the first flick of his tongue. And when his tongue pushed past her creamy folds, the way she sobbed his name out sent blood rushing straight to his groin.
It was time.
Sylvain's muscles tensed as he moved back up, and he heard her breath hitch as he positioned himself between her legs.
"This will hurt," he warned, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "But only for a moment."
"I'm not afraid."
Foolish little one.
"You should be."
Had she forgotten how he had seen the truth in her eyes?
Sylvain slid into her slowly and steadily, his muscles straining at the effort it took to control the beast that wanted to break free inside him.
Deeper and deeper he went into her...
Until he heard his wife cry out when his massive throbbing length finally broke past the barrier of her innocence.
"S-Sylvain."
She was his, finally.
And now, it was time for the monster in him to break free.
Her eyes flew wide as he started to move without warning.
His every thrust faster, harder, and deeper than the one before.
"P-Please..."
Her nails were scraping his back and into his muscles, her breasts jiggling against his chest, her hips rising clumsily to meet every plunge of his body.
"Sylvain, I..."
He reached between them, knowing what she was begging for without words, and as soon as he found that tiny sensitive spot—
"Let go, ma petite," he rasped out.
She shattered around him with a cry, and as soon as her inner muscles tightened around his, his own fingers dug into the soft curve of her bottom as he started pounding into her, wanting to give her everything...
Everything.
The strength of his own release was powerful enough to have him gritting his teeth, the pleasure so consuming that for one moment, the whole world ceased to exist for him, and all he knew was her.
My Liana.
Time slipped away in the aftermath, and he waited until her breathing gradually eased, and her eyes slowly drifted open...before cutting his heart out one last time.
"Her name...was Annie."
Chapter Thirteen
"WE MET AT A DIPLOMATIC function."
Sylvain's fingers trace idle patterns on my bare shoulder as he speaks. I don't think he even notices what he's doing, but even this simple touch speaks of his possessiveness, and for better or for worse, this comforts me.
"She was kind. And innocent." Sylvain's voice is clinical and detached, as if he's reading a file rather than recounting his own heartbreak. "I was assigned to protect a visiting minister. She was the daughter of a French attaché."
Jealousy eats at me, and I don't think this will ever change. Maybe, there's a monster inside of me, too.
"I was...too young to know better. But also too old...to simply believe someone as sheltered as her, when she told me I could trust her."
His words make my heart ache. Because I already know what's about to come.
"Three men took her on her way home from university."
The only question is how an innocent girl like Annie was forced to betray the man she loves.
"They sent me a video." His voice doesn't change. But I feel his pain all the same. "She told them everything within the first hour. My safe houses. My contacts. The security protocols for the minister. Everything I had ever shared with her."
"I'm so sorry," I whisper.
"They came for me that night. I was—" He pauses, and for the first time, I hear a crack in his composure. "I was not prepared for the level of their... enthusiasm."
While I...I don't think I'll ever be prepared to hear any story of someone hurting my husband.
He describes his capture and torture with the same clinical detachment he might use to describe the weather. Seventeen hours of being beaten and broken, of knowing that all of it is happening...because you've been betrayed by the girl you love.
"It was completely by chance that I managed to free myself..."
Was it, really?
Because the more I think about it, the more I'm unable to stop thinking that it can't be.