Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
The first time I met Dmitry Petrov, he was making a deal for my sister’s hand in marriage with his brother.
I should have hated him for that alone, but when he stopped my father from hitting me, my young heart felt something new and wonderful for the first time.
It was this incurable sensation that consumed me at his protection.
But he was nearly fifteen years older than me, more dangerous than any man I’d ever met, and only saw me as his sister-in-law’s younger sibling.
And when he was arrested and thrown into jail, five long years passed. I refused to give up the notion that one day he’d see me as a woman—a woman he wanted. So I wrote to him daily, confided in him, told him about what was going on in my life, what I hated and loved. I did this all in the hopes he’d write back, wishing he’d want me the way I wanted him.
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Prologue
CLAUDIA
It was only when my eyes adjusted to the dimness that I realized it was Dmitry, his immense body blocking out the only escape, the menace pouring from him tangible. I felt it snake across the small interior and wrap around me.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly shocked to see him in front of me. I was curious how he got through the property with no one seeing him, though. The Sisters seemed to know what everyone was doing.
But then I reminded myself this was Dmitry. He was probably used to being stealthy as hell.
Neither one of us said anything as he took a step closer. I moved one back, not sure why I was retreating. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to go. It was the fact that I didn’t really want to escape. I liked being in his presence, feeling his big, burly body pressed against mine.
He was hard where I was soft. He smelled spicy and woodsy, whatever cologne he wore subtle and not nearly as arousing as his natural scent.
And then there were his tattoos, ones I could see sneaking above the collar of his shirt and past his cuff links.
Danger and violence certainly had a beautiful face.
“How did you get in here?” It was a stupid question. I knew that as soon as the words left my lips. And I didn’t actually expect an answer.
He didn’t grace me with one. He just kept stalking closer until I found myself pressed against one window, his colossal body looming over mine, my head cocked back so I could look into his face.
The survival part of me whispered that I needed to keep this man in my sights. He was far too dangerous to do otherwise.
“I gave you a day,” he finally said, his gaze raking over my face, then dipping down to my breasts before slowly trailing up my throat to look into my eyes again.
Although I was completely dressed, my skirt falling below my knees, my socks covering my calves, and my blazer buttoned up tight, I felt completely naked under his appraisal.
“A day?” My voice sounded far away and hazy, everything around my vision blurry except for the man standing right before me. “You gave me a day for what?” I asked again when he had yet to respond.
The corner of his mouth kicked up, but it wasn’t a humorous smile. It was as if he’d been waiting for me to ask so he could be bluntly honest with his answer.
“To come to terms with the fact that I’m not letting you go, detka.”
My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I felt beads of sweat line the valley between my breasts and the length of my spine.
I felt electricity moving between us. The surge ignited all over my body to the point the follicles of my hair tingled with awareness. Just having Dmitry so close, not even touching me, was like I’d wrapped my hand around a live wire.
And I welcomed the electric shock it gave me.
“For five fucking years, you wrote me. I had zero interest in you for those first three and saw you as nothing more than Amara’s kid sister.”
Realistically I knew it was good he didn’t see me as anything more. But my heart, I realized now as he stood so close and said these things to me, broke a little that he’d seen me that way.
He took a step closer, and I felt his body heat seeping into me.
“And then you turned eighteen, your letters getting more personal, the pictures you slipped inside so fucking modest and innocent, yet it made my cock harder than the fucking cement that surrounded me. I knew I had to make you mine.”
My head fell back against the glass, making a soft thud that filled the small interior.
“I knew it was wrong to desire you the way I did, to think of the things I did.” He stroked my cheek. “In the middle of the night I’d grip my cock and think about fucking you while I jerked off.” His voice had gone lower, deeper on that last part.
The image of him lying in that prison cell, thinking about me as he found his pleasure, was a heady sensation inside of me.
I canted my hips, seeking something that only he could give me. My breasts rose as if I had no control over my body. The mounds felt so heavy, the peaks so tight as they scraped against the cotton of my bra. I’d never felt such combustible sensations and emotions moving through me.
His enormous body shuddered as he inhaled at the base of my neck again, and then reached out to loosen my blazer, then pop free the first two buttons of my blouse. Dmitry pulled one side of the crisp material down and dragged his tongue over my collarbone.