“Fuck,” she moans, trying to claw at the bedsheets beneath her against the restraints.
I lick and suck on her clit, working my tongue in circles around it. My teeth tease over her arousal. She’s dripping wet and leaking all over my fingers. She mutters something in that I don’t quite catch.
I feel her coming undone, her muscles quivering deep inside of her. “Oh my God,” she cries out, as I fuck her harder with my fingers, forcing her over the edge.
Her cheeks are flushed and she looks like she’s having the first orgasm of her life—maybe she is. The thought makes my balls tingle, but I know I can’t push this right away. “That’s it, Krasivaya, let me taste every drop of you,” I groan, licking her until she’s stopped writhing.
Even though my cock is steel, I shift to lie down next to her, pulling her into my chest. She’s like jelly and her whole body is limp as she rests her head against my chest. Her eyes flicker shut without a word and I know she’s fallen asleep as her breathing deepens.
I’m still hard, but we’ve got plenty of time to experiment with each other. I can wait to claim this virgin as my own.
VERA P.O.V
Sickened.
It’s the only word that can describe how I feel right now. The guilt of what he did to my body makes me want to puke.
The worst part is that I loved it. He made me feel like I’ve never felt before. A part of me longed to feel him inside of me. It’s as if my body can’t fathom the truth my brain is aware of. This man is terrible.
He sleeps by my side, snoozing. I swallow hard as I look at him. The need to end him, overwhelming me.
The razor is in my jeans pocket and I need to use it, now. I can’t continue this warped, fucked up thing between us. If we have sex, I won’t be able to control my reactions toward him. How could I live with myself if the man who took my virginity was the same man who murdered my family?
I won’t have long to live once I kill him, but dying a virgin is better than giving this monster the honor. His brotherhood will slay me for the act. There are worse things in life than dying a virgin and one of them is screwing a man like him.
I peel the sheets from myself and move toward my pants. The blade is in the back pocket, and I clench it in my fist. This is the moment the past three years have been leading to. Somehow, it feels anti-climactic, but maybe nothing would have felt adequate.
I shift back into the bed and flick open the razor. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I gaze at him. The man who has acted different to how I expected. He is almost kind. As he sleeps, he looks beautiful. I hate the thought, but it’s true.
My hand shakes as I position the razor over his throat, ready to cut it open. This moment is one I’ve foreseen every day for three years, but now, I waver. The blade inches from his throat.
Why can’t I do it?
Tears of frustration prickle at my eyes. He is the first person I’ve ever attempted to murder, and people told me it isn’t easy, no matter how much you detest the person.
It doesn’t help that he has shown me kindness ever since he purchased me.
Where is the evil beast I’d heard so much about?
As I look at him, I can’t match him to the cold-blooded murderer of my family.
I shake my head. I’ve seen the photographs. The images burst into my mind, and I grit my teeth, realizing without a doubt I’ve got to kill him. It is now or never.
I’m ready to slice him open as rage courses through my veins. That’s when his hand closes around mine and his eyes shoot open. I try to force the knife into him, but he’s too strong.
Fuck.
Everything I’ve worked for the past three years and it has all ended.
He overpowers me, chucking the razor onto the floor out of reach. There is a frantic rage in his eyes. He forces me beneath him and pins me to the bed. His cock is hard against my tummy, throbbing.
“What the fuck are you doing, Vera?” he growls, searching my eyes.
I claw onto my shield, the only thing I have left, despite the urge to scream and shout the truth at him. The most important rule my uncle taught me was to never let your guard down. Instead, I bite my lip and glare at him.
“Answer me,” he growls.
I turn my head away.
“Why were you trying to kill me?” There’s a controlled and dangerous fury in his voice.
He doesn’t scare me. He can kill me for all I care. The aim was to get revenge, and I’ve failed. My life is pointless. Uncle will never forgive me for this.
I gasp, as his mouth clashes with mine, kissing me hard and deep. I resist, trying to stop him. His tongue slips into my mouth and I bite down on it, but not hard enough to dissuade him.
He groans against my mouth, biting my lip in return and drawing blood.
We remain tangled in a battle of lust and hate, warring against each other with our tongues and lips. The longer he persists, the more my body betrays me.