Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I’m more important.
“Why do you want this so badly?” I ask, my words groggy and full of lust.
I cry out in pleasure when his answer arrives with the raring spurts of cum ejaculating from his cock. “Because I want you wholly and without constraint, and I will have you.”
Once his cock stops pumping, which is many lust-induced spasms later, he slips me off his still-firm erection, lays me down, then rubs his still-warm sperm into my pussy.
I gasp when his fingertips massage my clit with urgent circles. It coils my senses as well as sends spasms rocketing through my womb.
“I just need it to be your choice.”
I cry out, my legs quaking in pleasure. “This is coerc—”
He’s on me again before I can finish my sentence. Except this time, he makes love to me with his mouth like his semen isn’t smeared from my thighs to the apex of my pussy.
He eats me until I violently come, and then asks those three words again. “Be my wife?”
“N—”
Again and again, over and over, he drives me to the brink until I’m limp, exhausted, and delirious enough to say yes.
31
NATALYA
Once the adrenaline wore off, I was certain Matvei would recant his proposal.
I was horrendously wrong.
The massive diamond sparkling in the late afternoon sun was the cause of Matvei’s fight with Maksim. His brother saw it, knew what it represented, then voiced caution about both Matvei's wish to wed and not use protection.
In his bid to make Matvei see sense through the madness, Maksim ripped open the box of condoms Matvei searched his office for earlier, then offered a live demonstration on how to use them.
“If you’re not smart enough to know how she could ruin us, you’re clearly not smart enough to know how these work.”
It was those words shouted that switched their verbal argument to a fistfight. They went blow for blow for several long minutes before the only person game enough to come between them ended their disagreement.
In the footage Matvei made me watch to authenticate his claims he didn’t cheat, the brutality of her sons physically shook their mother. Irina said that she’d raised them better, but that their fight proved the thousands of miles she’d placed between them and their father hadn’t stopped him from influencing their lives.
Her comment cut through Matvei as well as mine did when I accused him of adopting his father’s cheating ways. He snarled something to his mother in a foreign language before he stormed into the bathroom attached to his office.
Ivanka entered shortly after everyone left, and although the bathroom didn’t have surveillance footage, their exchange was only out of view for two minutes before I arrived.
Matvei wouldn’t have even undressed by then.
I felt stupid about how I reacted, and the embarrassment made it that much easier for Matvei to fulfill the pledge he’d coerced out of me.
For the second time in my life, I went from single to married in less than a couple of hours.
Our wedding was low-key, with a priest from a local church and Troy, the only staff member Matvei speaks fondly of. He is sixty-seven, immensely funny, and the only father figure Matvei had during his childhood.
Since our vows were solely for us to move forward in our relationship, we’ve decided to wait to tell everyone until we’ve courted for longer than a couple of weeks. Engaged will go over better than married, and it will save me from being drilled by the people who will think I’m insane.
I know I’m crazy. I don’t need it spelled out to me by the people I want to be happy for me. Yes, this is rushed. Yes, we could have waited until the euphoria had worn off, but you only get one life, and I am sick of living mine in the shadows.
I won’t need to anymore, not after the gift my husband gave me on our wedding night. It wasn’t the satin slip with “Mrs. Matvei Ivanov” emblazoned on the back that demonstrated his quest for us to marry wasn’t rushed, or the countless orgasms that followed. It was the footage Matvei didn’t sleep the prior night to unearth, a set of images that prove my innocence.
He found footage from the night of my first marriage that verifies I didn’t kill my husband. The video projected through the window of our suite is grainy, but it shows Bastian standing as I slowly inched toward freedom, and the footage from the hallway where I dumped the gun is so crystal clear you can see the relief in my eyes when I sprint into an awaiting elevator.
I’m dying for the world to become aware of my innocence, but Matvei wants to wait until the local DA’s office agrees that I won’t face prosecution for evading charges. It is preposterous that I could face a second hearing for evading false accusations, but I’d once thought you couldn’t get married without consent, so what would I know?