Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Oh…” I sighed, unable to stop the restless motion of my hips. “I don’t think I can…”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he ground out.
“It… oh… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” I said, looking up sweetly at his dear, worried face.
“Are you sure, Mishka? I won’t be able to stop.”
“I’m sure,” I cooed, sliding my arms around his neck.
He moaned helplessly, closing his eyes, and finally did as I asked.
He moved.
I whimpered with the pleasure of it.
He withdrew slowly, then drove forward again. With each thrust, our chests came back together. The feeling of his body on mine, and in mine, was delicious, naughty, and profound.
It was a whole new world. One I was very, very happy to be in. In fact, I never wanted to leave.
He picked up the pace, driving home again and again. I felt the friction against my sensitive spot and arched my back, just as another wave of pleasure overtook me, lifting me to the pinnacle of pleasure and then crashing me down again.
I was shaking as he froze above me, calling my name. Then he started to buck wildly, with none of his former composure. I felt him expand inside me, then he started to pulse and I was filled with a wetness that spilled out and over my body, onto the bed beneath me.
Anton lay on top of me, breathing heavily, his body still inside mine. I felt my body clench down on his in a series of aftershocks. He was watching me carefully, his eyes searching mine.
“Are you alright?” He asked, tenderly smoothing away a piece of my hair away from my face.
“Yes,” I said softly, nodding. I felt so shy but also so well loved. I felt so safe, secure, and somehow, fulfilled, by what had happened between us.
He kissed me again, then slid an arm under me, shifting us so that we were on our sides, still facing each other. We shared a laugh as he hoisted us further to the left, and out of the damp spot on the bed.
It was more than damp, truth be told. It was soaking. I was slightly embarrassed about that, but so relaxed and sated that I didn’t think about it too deeply.
“I love you, Mishka,” I heard him murmur as I started to drift off to sleep. “You’re my sweet girl.”
A loud rumbling woke me a little while later. The light had shifted so I knew that time had passed. It was still the middle of the day, from what I could tell. The sound filled the room, buzzing like angry hornets. The bed didn’t quite shake, but I could feel the vibration in my chest.
“Anton? What is that?”
Chapter 39
Anton
“Oh no. Oh please God, no,” I breathed, uttering yet another prayer. I had never prayed before I met Mishka. Now, it seemed, I seemed to pray nonstop.
I was holding my woman in my arms, wondering if it was too soon to make love to her again. My desire for her had risen as soon as our breathing calmed, even before she had so sweetly fallen asleep in my arms. The girl trusted me, had trusted me with her virginity. With her future. With her life.
Making love to this magical, tiny woman had been a revelation. Like riding a rocket ship to the stars, and coming home again. It was like seeing the birth of the universe itself.
Selfishly I wanted to take her again. I knew it was most likely too soon. I should wait until tonight, I decided. Perhaps shower and put a cool cloth against her, then feed her before making love to her again in the evening. I was about to ask her if she was sore when I heard it.
The sound of motorcycles.
Lots and lots of motorcycles.
“What is that sound?” The angel in my arms asked innocently. Her huge eyes looked up at me from where she was nestled against my shoulder. I loved having her there, her magnificently beautiful and oh-so-naked body curved against me, safe and snug. Her dark eyelashes were so long and thick that they partially obscured her incredible eyes from me at this angle.
She hadn’t heard me begging, thank the Saints. She had been asleep. But she was about to get a rude awakening, quite literally.
And an education in the American wing of our family.
The very American, very extended wing of our family.
The unwanted houseguests wing of our family.
Then I heard Russian. Loud Russian. My brothers were here, too.
All of them coming into my house. I heard them all. Heavy boots stomping in the entryway.
“Anton?”
“My apologies, Mishka. We are being invaded,” I said, pressing a kiss to her rumpled silk hair. The noises downstairs got louder and I muttered “Goddamn it,” mimicking my cousin-in-law, if such a thing existed. Vice was a good man, I admitted grudgingly. I trusted him with my cousin. But his crew of ornery bikers were a righteous pain in the ass.