Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
As the pulse darting through my balls simmers to a pleasant throb, I pluck Katie from the floor, toss her onto the cabin bed too small for how flexible and adventurous my Little Lamb is, then demand she spread her legs for me.
“Wider, маленький ягненок. Don’t fucking hide from me.”
My hand falls to my rapidly reforming erection when the defiant gleam I crave more than cocaine blazes through her eyes.
She has me by the fucking throat.
So I do the same to her.
Her pulse thuds against my hand when I curl it around her throat and drag her to within an inch of my face. She isn’t scared. Why would she be? I’m giving her what she craves.
Me in all my hideous form.
“Is this what you want, маленький ягненок?” I tilt my head so the cabin light above our bed doesn’t shadow my face, then I roll my teeth over my lower lip to hide the twitch in my jaw.
If anyone raked their eyes over my scars like Katie does, they’d be dead, and I wouldn’t even remove my gun from my holster to take them down.
But since it’s Katie, my wife and fucking queen, I let her look.
“Yes.” A moan vibrates through my chest when her voice is the husky purr I aim for every time I bed her. “I want you.”
After cupping my jaw, her hold not as firm on the scarred side of my face, she kisses me with the last ounce of oxygen left in her lungs.
It is a desperate, unhinged kiss that strengthens her pulse instead of weakening it.
Incapable of holding back my urges for a second longer, I use my grip on her throat to pin her to the mattress before I lower my head between her legs. A hot breath of air escapes my lips when I notice how drenched she is for me. Her thighs are holding evidence of the juices her cunt frees when she sucks my cock, and since her pussy is bare, I can see her clit throbbing at the apex of her greedy cunt.
“What do you say, маленький ягненок?”
She squirms and thrashes before the faintest beg seeps from her lips. “Please.”
As her hands find their way to my hair, my tongue finds her clit. I lick the swollen bud with a long, purposeful stroke before I swivel it around it, then suck it into my mouth.
Katie bucks once, twice, then with the third jerk, her hands fall to her sides, and a breathy moan simpers between us.
“Louder.”
I suck, lick, and teeth her clit before slipping two fingers inside her to force her to follow my demands. I don’t need gimmicks or threats for her to obey me.
I merely need her beneath me.
“More. Please. Gh-Ghost.”
She fists the sheets in a white-knuckled hold before she lifts her ass off the mattress to grind against my mouth. She doesn’t want kindness and compassion when she’s being fucked. She wants to be manhandled and tossed around.
She wants to know she is being bedded by a man, not a pussy with a five-inch cock.
I work her harder. Faster. I drive her to the brink of insanity before I stop.
“Ghost… no… fuck.” Katie freezes along with me when her last word reaches our ears.
I angle my head, my expression stoic. “What did you say to me?”
“No-nothing.”
The wetness dripping off my fingers doubles when I mutter, “Don’t fucking lie to me, Little Lamb. You won’t like the consequences of your actions.”
I try to continue with my ploy that I’m angry, but the damn furl of my top lip gives me away in an instant.
A nanosecond after she sees it, a gleaning grin stretches across Katie’s face, immediately weakening my resolve.
“Scoot. If you want to swear like a man, you can do all the fucking work too.”
I’m acting as if I am disappointed I’m forcing her to ride on top.
I am a fucking liar.
There’s nothing sexier than my wife lining up my cock to drive home. And since she knows how much she can handle, I don’t have to worry I’m hurting the bump that’s real in her midsection this time around.
I had no clue Sofia was pumping Katie’s food with hormones that would make a pregnancy test positive. She branched out on her own with that and a handful of other things I’m not happy about—most particularly learning that the vials inserted into Katie were only filled with female sperm. That’s how Kirill knew her unborn child was a girl by checking her purity. But we’re slowly bridging the gap, purely because Kirill would have killed Katie along with me if he had learned the truth.
Mercifully, neither of their ploys affected Katie’s fertility.
She is five months pregnant, so it is finally time for her to go home to share the news with her sister. Since our daughter is a Petrov, I can go with her without the war I was planning if anyone dared to try and separate us again.