Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Chapter Ten
Lucia
Iwoke slowly, pulled from sleep by warmth that surrounded me on every side.
For a few seconds, I stayed still beneath the heavy blankets, my body thick with exhaustion and soreness in places I had never known could ache. The dull throb between my thighs reminded me immediately of what had happened the night before, of the man who had taken my virginity without hesitation and without apology.
The realization settled into my chest before my eyes were fully open. Every small movement carried the memory of him, and the lingering sensitivity deep inside my body made my breath catch as awareness returned all at once.
My pussy felt swollen and tender, still sticky with the dried mixture of his cum and my virgin blood.
Then I felt his hand. It rested low on my stomach, large and steady, the weight of it firm enough to keep me anchored against him. The slow rhythm of his breathing pressed against the back of my neck, warm and even controlled.
The steady heat of his body threaded and wrapped around mine made it clear he hadn’t left my side. He held me as though keeping me close had been his intention all along, not simply the result of sleep or habit.
My eyes opened gradually, and the quiet luxury of the room came into focus around me. Morning light filtered through the tall windows casting pale gold across the dark wood furniture and silk sheets. The scent of him lingered in the air, sharp and masculine, mixing with the faint trace of expensive cologne and something darker beneath it.
I had already come to recognize that scent as uniquely his.
The steady rise and fall of his chest against my back made my pulse quicken while the memory of what we shared last night followed closely behind it.
I shifted carefully, testing the ache in my hips and thighs and especially between my legs. That small movement made him stir behind me almost instantly. His grip tightened, fingers sliding from my stomach to my waist as though instinct alone had guided the reaction.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and low against my ear.
The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine, not from fear but from the deep, masculine certainty in his tone. I swallowed slowly before answering, my throat dry as the full weight of last night returned to me.
“Yes,” I said softly.
The word had barely left my lips before he moved, sliding his hand along my side in a slow, leisurely path. The contact was steady rather than urgent, yet the simple pressure of his touch made awareness bloom again beneath my skin.
The soreness between my thighs pulsed sharply as I adjusted against him, and the quiet sound that escaped me gave away more than I intended.
Of course, Alexei noticed immediately.
His hand moved lower, fingers brushing along the inside of my thigh in a careful, assessing touch that felt both possessive and controlled. He traced the sticky evidence of last night where his cum had leaked from me, rubbing it into my swollen folds like a brand.
The contact lingered just long enough to make my breath hitch, and the slight tightening of his grip told me he understood exactly how I felt.
I hadn’t expected this gentleness from him… not from the Russian Butcher of the Bratva.
“You’re sore,” he said, his voice calm and certain.
It wasn’t a question. It was an observation delivered with the same authority he used when issuing orders, yet there was a quiet edge of concern beneath the words that made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
“I’m okay,” I breathed out as he continued to rub me between my thighs.
My body ached deeply from what he had done to me, from the stretch of him and the force of his possession. The reminder of that pain carried a strange sense of ownership alongside the discomfort. I had given myself to him completely, and he had taken me without hesitation, marking me in a way that could never be undone.
I knew the white sheets would be stained red.
He growled softly, lips brushing my ear. “I like knowing my cock left you this tender. Every time you move today, you’ll remember who owns this pussy now.” He shifted again, sliding his hand beneath my chin and turning my face gently toward him until our eyes met. The sight of him this close stole my breath.
His dark eyes were slightly heavy-lidded from sleep, and the sharp lines of his face looked less severe in the soft morning light.
The tiny scars along his jaw and cheek stood out more clearly now, visible reminders of the violence that had shaped him into the man he was.
Yet, there was something different in his expression this morning. The brutal edge that usually surrounded him had softened slightly, replaced by a quiet satisfaction that made heat rise in my chest.