Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Anastasia was his wife, and he had given her enough time to come to terms with her place in his world. He had no intention of killing her, and the truth was, he wanted this marriage to be complete. In basic terms, he wanted to fuck his wife.
She let out a gasp, and he knew she felt his hard erection.
“Do you want to stay and dance some more?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good.”
Spinning her around, he placed a hand at her back, and together they walked out of the nightclub, toward his car. His men were there.
He hadn’t driven with them. They had separate cars, and they would be following him. He helped Anastasia into the passenger side and then took his place behind the wheel, turning over the ignition. He pulled out and headed back to their country home.
There was not a lot of business to handle over the next couple of days, and he wanted her to have the freedom to enjoy his other homes while she could.
He couldn’t help but randomly glance over at her. Did she want him too? He wasn’t gentle on their wedding night. Had he ruined her interest in sex?
He’d never been in this kind of situation. When it came to women, he loved to fuck and they did as well. There was no past to deal with. And he certainly never had to consider their virginity either. He’d taken Anastasia’s, but she was still very much a virgin, there was no getting away from it.
Chapter Five
Bogdan hadn’t come to bed. That wasn’t usually a problem. She would be tired, she’d go to bed, and sometime through the night he was there. No big deal. Only, tonight it was different. All those other times she hadn’t felt his erection digging against her, yet today she had. There was no way she could mistake it for anything other than a hard cock.
She pressed a hand to her head and stared up at the ceiling. “What the hell is the matter with me?”
She glanced over toward his space, and she missed him.
Sex was a whole different thing. They hadn’t been together since their wedding night. The following morning, she had to put up with that awful ritual, and knowing what she did now, her father did it on purpose. Pushing all thoughts of that horrible man out of her mind, she threw the covers off. There was no way she was going to sleep as her mind was going too fast for her to slow down and just relax.
She had no idea what was going on with her and Bogdan, but the only solution for something like this was ice cream, or chocolate, or both.
Pushing her feet into a pair of slippers, she didn’t bother with a robe and made her way out of their shared bedroom, and downstairs. She went straight to the kitchen, not bothering to check if Bogdan had fallen asleep in his office. If he wanted to sleep there rather than in his bed, that was up to him.
Did she feel his hard erection today? Was it even for her? For all she knew, he might have had business with a mistress? After all, her father had married his mistress and moved her into the family home.
She shook her head and went to the fridge. Ice cream waited, but what also called to her was the chocolate cake sitting covered on a cake stand. It was a clear cover, and her mouth watered at the sight. She wanted a nice, big slice. She grabbed a knife and cut herself a piece, not too big. She loved chocolate cake, but what she didn’t love was the sick feeling when she ate a little too much. Chocolate was chocolate.
With a moderate piece cut, she could always go back for seconds. She took a seat at the kitchen counter, grabbed herself a dessert fork, and had a bite. It was so much better than ice cream.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Bogdan asked.
And he was the cause of her not being able to sleep.
“You’re awake.”
He stood in the doorway, wearing the same clothes he had that morning. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his endless streams of tattoos.
“I was working,” he said.
She nodded.
“Is it good?” he asked.
“The best.”
He moved past her and it was like she was hyperaware of him. She couldn’t help but look at his hands. They had once touched her, held her in place as he drove inside her. Their wedding night hadn’t been good. She accepted that, but it didn’t always have to be that way, did it?
He turned back toward her, and moved opposite her. She watched as he slid the dessert fork through his slice and took a bite.
“You’re right, it’s the best.”
Why did his lips have to look so good when he said it like that? She licked her own lips and tried not to think about how good he looked. Pressing her thighs together, she tried to ignore that pulse beating so rapidly inside her.