Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“You did say you wanted to bend me over this desk,” I rasp.
Without a word, he folds me forward until my chest meets the cool mahogany. I steal a breath before he spreads my legs and sinks into me from behind.
The position is so damn good I have to grip the far edge of the desk just to stay grounded. I’m already close, my walls clenching so hard around him I doubt either of us will last long.
He pounds into me with such wild abandon that items slide off the desk. After that, I notice nothing, lost to pure sensation. He fills me, driving so deep I can barely remember my own name. There’s only him, his hands digging into my hips, words tumbling from his lips like a prayer.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I scream.
I climb higher, past anything I thought possible. My legs give out, so he hooks one over the desk for leverage. The other dangles uselessly while my body trembles around him again.
And then the world explodes into bright light, into colors I didn’t know existed. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, leaving me breathless and limp. I pant against the desk, watching my breath fog the glossy surface. Sergei collapses, bracing himself over me, careful not to crush me.
He drags in a ragged breath. “Holy fucking shit. That was better than I ever imagined.”
I can only nod, unable to form words just yet. I close my eyes and let my body rest for a moment as he pulls out of me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.
He lifts me up gently, turning me around to face him. “Baby?” he asks, cupping my face.
My goofy smile must reassure him because he relaxes and kisses me, sloppy and sweet.
“Just let me come back down to earth,” I whisper. “I’ll be fine.”
He kisses my forehead and pulls me against him in a warm embrace.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “Thirsty? I’m going to go get something from the kitchen. Anything you want. You’ve earned it.”
I giggle as I watch him dress, my body jelly. I grope for my clothes, halfheartedly tugging them on.
“Your dress is on backward.” He chuckles before kissing me again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I simply nod and sink into his chair, muscles boneless after the workout he just put me through. After he’s gone, I finally take in the mess we’ve made, looking at the piles of papers and trinkets scattered across the floor and laugh softly, impressed by our enthusiasm.
After a moment, I force myself up and start tidying. Some of the papers are slick from our sweat, but thankfully nothing looks too damaged. I have no idea how they should be sorted or organized, but I figure at least I can stack them up and get them off the floor.
It takes several minutes to gather and sort everything, and a few more to set the sentimental items back in place. There’s a picture of him and his mother, one of the whole family, including a man who must be his father. I study them, then realize I’m completely alone in Sergei’s office.
The temptation is overwhelming. I can’t just sit here and not snoop a little. For the first time since moving in, I have unfettered access to his inner sanctum. His bedroom is devoid of personality, but this room brims with him. I eye the stack of papers with mild interest.
I peek at one, hoping to glean something useful. It’s just a spreadsheet with some numbers circled in red pen. Nothing exciting or noteworthy. Ignoring the gnawing guilt in my stomach, I flip past it and sift through another page, then another. Unfortunately, none of it answers my questions.
I have no idea how long it will be until he comes back with our food, and I don’t want to get caught red-handed. I know he’d be upset if he came in and found me going through his things. When another minute passes without his return, I begin easing open drawers, careful not to pull them too far in case I need to slam them shut.
I find a bottle of vodka in his bottom drawer and roll my eyes. He’s such a cliché. Another drawer holds files that mean absolutely nothing to me at first glance. Then I find one with a letterhead. Jackpot!
I slip it free and snap a quick picture in case he walks back in. I put the paper back and shut the drawer, pulling up the picture on my phone. I expect to see the name of some shipping company at the top, but instead, the header reads Internal Document to All Members of Volkov Bratva in bold black.
I’m not sure what Bratva means, and I’m about to look it up when the doorknob jiggles. I tuck my phone away just as Sergei walks in, balancing a tray piled high with sandwiches and packaged snacks.