Terrible Beauty (Molotov Betrothal #1) Read Online Anna Zaires

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Molotov Betrothal Series by Anna Zaires
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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He feasts on me with soft, gentle nibbles, using his lips more than his tongue, and it’s so much more than I imagined, the sensations shocking and exquisitely acute. He’s only exploring my outer folds, not the throbbing bundle of nerves inside, but I feel each kiss, each lick, each gentle grazing of his teeth as if he were doing it directly on my clit. Pleasure, sweet and sharp, pulses through me, adding to the tension, and it’s both too much and not enough.

“Please…” I arch my hips, needing more. Seeking more. “Alexei, please…”

He ignores me. Pinning my straining thighs with his strong hands, he continues his tender torment of my flesh, the oh-so-light kisses and nibbles that are driving me insane. I’m panting now, my nails digging into his scalp, but he proceeds with his maddening agenda and the tension grows until I’m vibrating with it, until incoherent moans and pleas escape my throat. Only then does he part my folds with his tongue, and finally, finally, he presses his mouth where I need it most—directly over my aching, throbbing clit.

I gasp, straining upward against his hold as the pleasure spikes unbearably, bordering on pain. His tongue is soft and wet, dangerously skilled. I’m excruciatingly close to the peak, and he keeps me there, balanced on the razor-sharp edge between agony and ecstasy. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me, I can feel it. I’m burning, sweating, trembling, my heart pounding so hard it’s bound to explode, and then he slides a finger inside me, pushing it deep into my soaked channel, curving it in that way he’s done before—and I explode.

I come so hard I see bolts of lightning behind my closed eyelids, and every nerve in my body quakes as wave after wave of ecstasy thunders over me, making my inner muscles spasm and turning my mind utterly and completely blank.

I’m still drifting in the pleasure-soaked aftermath when he moves up over me, covering me with his body once again. The orgasm was so intense I feel as if I’ve been drugged, and my lids weigh a kilo each as I pry them open to stare up into his face. His jaw is taut, his forehead dappled with tiny beads of sweat as he settles over me and gathers my wrists in one strong hand to pin them above my head. His expression is implacable, determined, and a prickle of unease penetrates the sensual fog encasing me as, with growing clarity, I recall the stinging pain when he broke my hymen with his fingers.

“Alexei…” I wet my lips, my heartbeat picking up pace at the memory of the massive pressure of his cock starting to push inside me before my bodyguards burst in. “Alexei, I…”

He kisses me. It’s a sweet, tender kiss, nothing like the way he devoured me earlier. I can taste myself on his lips, and the reminder of what he did to me and the incredible pleasure I experienced rekindles the heat inside me, easing the gathering tension in my muscles. His lips are soft on mine, the strokes of his tongue gentle and soothing, and I find myself melting against him despite my fear… even as I feel the smooth, broad tip of his cock pushing at my entrance.

It’s as big as I recall from our last close encounter, but it doesn’t hurt this time, at least not at first. It starts off as an unfamiliar stretching pressure, my body’s natural lubrication easing the way. But then… Oh, God, then the stretch increases, and it begins to sting as my flesh resists further penetration. I tense, my breath catching, and try to twist away from his kiss, but he grips my jaw with his free hand and forces me to face him.

Breathing raggedly, I meet his gaze as a blinding flash of light outside illuminates the cabin, followed by a boom of thunder. The rain is now a constant drumbeat, nearly drowning out the pounding of my pulse. With my wrists confined in his grasp above my head, my dress torn in half, and his cock buried partially inside me, I’ve never felt more vulnerable, more helpless. More at his mercy.

His chest moves with heavy breaths as well, his jaw tight with the strain of holding back, of not thrusting as every male instinct undoubtedly demands. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he says hoarsely, “Alinyonok… I don’t want to hurt you, but—”

“Liar,” I whisper on a shaky exhale. Of course he wants to hurt me. How could he not? For running away, for disappearing, for rejecting him throughout all these years, he can’t not want to hurt me, to punish me, at least a little.

His eyes flare, and I know I’m right. Consciously or not, he doesn’t just want to possess me—he wants to make me pay. And on some level, I want that too. Because I deserve it. Because I need it.


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