Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Anya.”
He says my name more softly, distracting me from my internal panic. I look into his eyes and I feel myself start to fall and then that makes it bad all over again. I have got to get a grip.
“I don’t need help,” I tell him.
It’s not true. I need so much help, but I don’t want to ask for it, or acknowledge how much it all means to me. I cook for him, I keep the house clean.
He smiles at me over the coffee I am sure he wishes was better. Mom only ever had instant and we don’t have a coffeemaker.
“I know,” he says in a tone that suggests he doesn’t believe me for a moment. “But I am going to help you anyway.”
“You’ve done enough,” I say, knowing I am pushing him away, but not being able to stop. “I appreciate it, I really do, but you owed my mom, not me, so you can go whenever you want.”
His brows lower a fraction. He doesn’t like me saying that. It sounds too much like I’m telling him what to do, and if there’s one thing he does not like, it’s being told what to do.
“I am going to look after you,” he says. “There’s nothing you can do about that.”
“I can run away again.”
I know as soon as those words leave my mouth that they are the wrong thing to say.
“I mean, I could… no! I’m sorry, that’s not what I mean… hey!”
He stands up and somehow grabs me without even having to try. I thought I was trying to evade him, but there’s no way I’m going to get away.
I am tossed over his lap, landing with my hips over his thigh. Next thing I know, he’s spanking me. Hard. His hand meets my rear over and over and over again with a relentless speed that makes a horrible sting turn into a hot, deep ache.
I scream and whine and kick and fight him as hard as I can, but, like every other time I fought him as hard as I could and tried to get away, I fail. There’s no way out of this Russian madman’s grip, and there’s no stopping what he’s doing to me.
“When I tell you what is going to happen, you will accept it like a good girl,” he says, his accent especially guttural on the two g’s of ‘good’ and ‘girl.’
Before this man, I’d never been spanked by anybody. My mother would never lay a finger on me, and she’d never let anybody else do it either. I’m still shocked to my very core at how it feels to be disciplined. I hate it. It really fucking sucks. It hurts and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, which isn’t fair.
What’s even worse is that the pain is very quickly starting to be something else. There’s a heat in my ass that is sinking through my skin, into my flesh, and finding me right between my legs. There’s a tingling right at the apex of my lips as my clit starts to act out at the worst possible time. Every time he smacks me, he jolts me against his leg and I grind myself against his muscular thigh.
I hope he doesn’t notice. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. It’s not like I want to get myself off. I just can’t help how I respond to the way he is touching me. I don’t feel as though I am entirely in control of myself right now.
I am absolutely horrified when he flips my skirt up and drags my underwear down. I feel it grip against my lips for a moment as my arousal betrays me. As much as I try to clamp my thighs together and avoid him seeing what’s happening to my underwear, I lose that battle too.
He pushes my legs apart easily and runs his fingers along the length of my slit before smacking my now bare ass.
“Wet,” he says. “You like being spanked, little wolf?”
The way he growls the words ‘little wolf’ makes me want to curl up and hide. There’s some tenderness in it, as well as a note of something much more carnal. The way he talks makes my stomach clench and flip. I don’t want to find my captor hot. I don’t want to like him in any capacity, but my pussy is dripping wet right now.
His fingers slide back between my thighs, I feel him part my lips, open me up, and push them inside me. He goes a little way in, then stops as he finds that little point of resistance that comes from being a virgin.
Only my mate will ever fuck me, I have sworn that to myself, and to my mate who I am yet to meet. I have promised that to myself for a long time. I don’t want to risk any of the problems you get when you mate with the wrong person. I don’t want to risk my transformation. I don’t want to accidentally bond with some unsuitable guy.