Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Or should I break her so she lost her fight, and I would lose interest?
Did I need to trick her into loving me, so she became my escape like Samara was for Gregor?
Or did I just need to be rid of her?
Letting her go wouldn't be enough.
If I knew she was still out there, I would hunt her down, then I would be no better off than Gregor.
If I decided to get rid of her, to eliminate the distraction, it would mean killing her.
It wouldn't be the worst thing I had done in service of my family's ambitions, but my stomach churned at the thought even crossing my mind.
I never lost control, but the more time I spent around her, the more my grip was slipping. Watching her walk ahead of me, the gentle sway of her hips, the graceful curve of her neck, it was all I could do not to shove her against the wall and devour her.
Maybe I could be strong enough to leave her be. Make her stay in the apartment while she completed her studies and trust in my men to monitor her while I did my best to focus on Solovyov and then Gregor.
It was clear that was what she wanted.
She saw the moment my mask slipped earlier.
I only gave her the briefest peek at the monster inside, but she saw it.
Viktoria saw everything.
It was one of the things that I found so fascinating about her. I wanted to know exactly what was going on behind those beautiful eyes all the time.
Her skill for careful, quiet observation was one of the many reasons I knew that leaving her alone could never really be an option.
"Thank you for dinner," she said as we reached her door and she stepped inside, partially closing the door between us. Her voice was soft, uncertain, a stark contrast to the fire I'd seen in her eyes just hours ago when she was writhing beneath me.
"Viktoria—" I warned.
I could still taste her on my tongue from this morning. Could still feel the silken heat of her wrapped around me. My body ached to have her again, to pin her wrists above her head and remind her who she belonged to.
She looked up at me with those striking eyes of hers, and I saw it.
That addictive defiance and fight staring back at me.
She held my gaze, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. She wanted to fight me, but not to win. Not really. She wanted me to prove that I could win. That I was worthy to dominate her and make her mine.
God, I loved rising to that challenge. Literally.
The sweet struggle before surrender. But there was something else tonight.
Maybe that was why she took up so much of my mind. She craved my dominance as much as I craved her obstinance. The knowledge that she was still tender from our earlier activities only intensified my desire. I could be gentle. I could make her forget everything except my name on those perfect lips.
As she stared at me, I felt the tension shift.
She was demanding some autonomy.
I could push the point and control her anyway. Remind her how much she loved being under me, her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails digging into my back as she begged for more.
But that didn't feel like the right move.
Not tonight.
The next time I sank into her sweet body, I wanted her to be desperate for it. For that, I was going to need to give her a little time. Remind her what it was like to go to sleep cold and alone, so she remembered waking up in my bed was far preferable. Let her body heal just enough that when I took her again, the pleasure would overpower everything else.
If I took her now, she would resent me for it, not crave it. She was too angry to behave, but too smart to do something that deserved another punishment.
If I pushed her, eventually that fire would be snuffed out, and that was one thing I was not willing to kill. Tame, yes, but never kill.
Right now, I didn't need to guess what she was thinking. She was upset, worried that I was going to somehow make the situation with her professor worse. So there was no way that she was going to invite me inside that apartment.
I understood.
I even understood her fear that things with her professor would get worse. The fact remained that it wasn't possible for me to drop it.
That professor was using her, isolating her from everyone else in the class, so when he tried to fuck her for a passing grade, she would have no recourse.
Either she would do it and he would make her do all types of depraved things, probably keeping a recording of it if he was anything like the other vultures I had dealt with before. Or she would try to fight it.