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“Forward, Zaika,” he growled, slapping my ass cheek gently, and I crawled up the bed, making room for him.
I was so damn eager for his possession I was dripping with it. I gasped when the mattress dipped, adjusting to his weight as he joined me. His large, calloused hands felt good against my soft skin as he ran them over my back and shoulders, my ass, my pussy, and my thighs. I moaned and leaned back, but he held me firm, as if this was part of the ritual of lovemaking. His hands moved around to my belly, my breasts, and throat. All the while, he whispered to me in a husky voice, words I did not understand.
By the time I heard him rip open the packet and slide the condom on his cock, I was almost there. Adrik kneeled behind me, hands on my hips as he pulled me back so his cock was lined up with my slit.
“Now, the month begins. Right now, Zaika. Here. With me buried inside your sweet pussy.”
Then he slammed into me. Deep, hard, eliciting a guttural moan from my lips.
“Now, our real terms. You live here for one month,” he grunted, pulling out almost all the way and staying there until his next words. “I fuck you when I say. Where I say.”
Slam.
He filled me again, and I gasped. Adrik’s hand snaked around my hip, and he started pressing his thumb against my swollen clit. His cock jerked inside me, and my sheath tightened around him. It almost hurt when he pulled out this time, just leaving the tip inside.
“This bed is your bed. You will sleep here,” he growled, slamming into me again in one hard thrust.
His hips were flush against my ass, and I didn’t know how long I could take it. His cock was so thick, so long, it stretched and burned so good. I was so close. I wanted to move, needed to move, but his heavy weight held me down. I was powerless against him, pressed between the rock hard wall of his chest and the mattress.
“You belong to me now, Zaika,” he growled in my ear.
“For one month,” I answered, unable to help myself.
He froze, and I wanted to whimper, but managed to hold the sound deep within. There was something dangerous about hm. Something dangerous about me if I was willing to risk the former criminal, now powerful billionaire’s wrath. But I wouldn’t hold my tongue for anyone. Not even him.
“Da. One month. Starting now,” he grunted, holding my arms behind me as he started pounding into me at a relentless pace.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I wasn’t in pain. On the contrary, there was something about being pinned by him, held in this position that was so damn comforting. Like I could just let go of everything. All the responsibility. All the baggage. I could simply toss it onto his capable shoulders and let him carry it awhile. As long as he didn’t stop fucking me.
“I won’t, Zaika. I will not stop fucking you. Now, come.”
The command from his lips was the push I needed, and then I was coming.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADRIK
Every morning I worked out at five am. No exceptions. The routine was so deeply ingrained in my mind, I did not need an alarm. So, when I opened my eyes and peered across the rumpled sheets to find Zaika moya gone, I was angry.
Angry but not surprised.
Six days had passed since I had secured Sofia for my one month whatever this was. I did not know what to call it. Privately, it was my wild obsession. It was a behavior so unlike my norm, I did not want to share it with anyone. There did not need to be any witnesses to this madness I felt to possess this woman.
I’d ordered Josef and Marat out of this section of the triplex penthouse I owned, forbidding entry to any and all without my express and immediate permission. For the first forty-eight hours, we did not leave the bed. I thought for sure I would be tired of her afterwards, that this obsessive hunger I had to possess her would be filled. But that was not the case. Each day I woke up, I wanted her more than ever.
She needed clothes. After I’d ordered my people to her apartment to pack her things—women only were permitted to touch her belongings, otherwise I did not trust the old me to not come out looking for vengeance. God forbid a man touched her panties or even her hairbrush. Beast that I was, I could hardly contain my growl at the thought. I did not share what was mine, and for the next month, Sofia was mine.
It was clear the dress she wore, that silver swatch of moonlight that had held me so captivated at the party, had been borrowed. From her former boss, as it turned out. I had it sent back to Missy Castle, dry cleaned and packaged with a thank you note. That woman was bad news, but Zaika did not need to know that.
I had a personal shopper come and measure her, and we discussed some of the places we would be attending over the next month. Sofia was stunned, but silent when the older woman returned from a day of shopping with dozens of things for her. Gowns, suits, pants, sweaters, boots, coats, makeup, heels, you name it.
The one constant was silver. I meant the color. I had asked for silver to be prominent in all the articles of clothing and her accessories. My Zaika looked stunning in silver.
“Are you really telling me what to wear?” she asked, her brown eyes wide as she glared at me.
“Yes. I will tell you what goes on that body, and when to take it off,” I’d replied.
I proved my point by slamming the laptop closed, cutting off the call with the stylist, and ripping my borrowed t-shirt off her body. Fucking her with my mouth as I pinned her against the wall in the kitchen of my penthouse turned out to be a messy affair.
