Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“So, those texts from my family.”
I go still.
“Are you going to intercept my texts?”
“Not a feckin’ chance,” I growl, kissing her hard, right on the mouth. “I came here. I took you with me because you belong with me, Zoya. You know that as well as I do, don’t you?”
She stares at me, like she’s waiting for the catch. There is no catch.
“You were set to marry some gobshite who wouldn’t know yer worth if it kicked him square in the stones. There’s no way in hell my family and yours would’ve agreed to it. So I made it happen.”
“Quite a visual…” she mutters, her eyes twinkling at me.
I lower my voice. “I made that happen because that’s what I bloody do, Zoya. Some people hate that about me. I fucking thrive on it.”
I lean in, pressing my lips to hers again.
“I wanted you. So I took you. And now that I have you, I swear I’ll take the best care of you. Take your phone? No. But other things, love…”
I kiss her mouth again, my tongue teasing hers, just for a fraction of a second before I pull away.
“You may not get the privacy you want. Because I won’t be letting you out of me bloody sight.”
She laughs. “Why not?”
I shake my head, walking her into the bathroom with me. My body aches, my muscles are sore, and sweat is soaking my skin. But none of that matters. Not when I want her like this.
I turn on the shower, spin her around, and give a sharp slap to her perfect, perky little arse.
“You’re fair beggin’ for a proper putting in your place, aren’t you now?” I ask.
“Put me in my place,” she whispers back, and her eyes flutter half-lidded with anticipation. She likes this. Loves it. “Yes.”
My sweet, dark little girl.
I guide her under the water, letting it soak into her hair, and begin washing her slowly. Reverently.
I lather her hair, watching the suds run down her neck, her breasts. Her perfect, upturned breasts. I rinse them off, then bring her nipple to my mouth and scrape each one with my teeth. She moans, head tilting. I take the opportunity to kiss the trail of sudsy water down her neck.
“Let me wash you too? Please,” she says, her hands already on me, possessive and eager.
“Tell me,” she murmurs, fingers trailing over my chest, “how you’re not going to let me out of your sight, Seamus.”
“You won’t have a bodyguard, Zoya,” I tell her. “I’m your shadow, your bloody shield, your man for every damn thing.”
“And what, you’ll be with me all the time?” she teases.
“It’s feasible now,” I say, my voice dark with promise.
My hands roam over the curve of her arse, and all I can think about is how fucking deserving she is of a proper spanking. I want to show her what it is to unravel for me, piece by bloody piece. She’s been raised hard. Firm. She knows the Bratva’s world.
She’s about to know mine.
“What about when you work?” she asks.
“I’ll take you with me.”
“And when you travel?”
“I’ll take you with me.”
She grins. “What about when I need to pee in peace?”
“Now you’re just looking for trouble,” I say, gripping her arse and hauling her leg up onto mine. Her hands, those wicked, beautiful hands, are gripping my shoulders, my chest, my biceps like she’s trying to memorize them.
She grabs my arse. I groan.
I want to take her right here, right now. But I’m not going to claim her virginity in the bloody shower. No. This is just the prelude. The foreplay. I want to make this last.
So I cup her lovely tits in my hands.
“Quiet now, love. Remember what I said about obeying me? There’ll be time for questions later.”
She moans as I roll her nipples between my fingers.
“What do you say, Zoya?” I murmur, a threat and a promise wrapped in velvet.
“Yes, sir,” she breathes out. “Yes, sir.”
She melts against me like honey.
“Tip your head back,” I say.
She obeys. I finish washing her hair, then rinse. She does the same for me while my hands explore her all over again.
And this is just the beginning.
She’s slick between her thighs, so fucking tight I can barely breathe. I slide three fingers inside her, slowly, working them in and out as her hips jerk and shudder. A soft, desperate moan spills from her lips, and I press a thumb gently, reverently, against her clit. She cries out again, a sound that’s more than just pleasure; it’s surrender.
I’m going to make her body sing for me. I’m going to train her to crave my cock, my mouth, my teeth, every dark and dangerous part of me.
“This is what you want, Seamus? Me?” she asks, trembling. “Are you sure?”
I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life. I shut off the shower, come out dripping, steam curling off our skin, and towel us both off. I wrap her in a thick towel, then lift her into my arms and carry her straight to my bed, where she fucking belongs.