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Everything.
I whimper as he brands me with his rage. Each swift slap electrifies my insides like I’ve just grasped a live wire with my wet hand. And just when I think I won’t be able to take another second of the carnal torture, Luka slips one finger into my soaked pussy.
He slides it in and out, stroking my swollen clit each time. “You’re so wet.”
“Don’t stop,” I cry out. “Not this time.”
He slides a second finger inside of me, the motion stretching my virgin pussy enough where I feel the slightest bit of a burn.
And it turns into the best kind of burn imaginable.
I fist the comforter, shoving my face deep into the mattress as ripples of some otherworldly euphoria captivate me. Shocks of pleasure zap my insides like a fierce game of pinball. My screams are muffled by the down comforter stuffed into my mouth, and my mind is a mess of words, none of which I can string together to form a single coherent thought.
I lie there, facedown in the soft sheets, my heart lodged in my throat as I process what just happened between us.
Again.
Luka’s arm brushes against mine as he collapses onto the mattress next to me with a deep sigh.
Luka hasn’t said a single word since his fingers ceased their sensual attack and I want to know…need to know…if he’s as affected by this as I am.
Or is my headspace so clouded by the forbidden and the taboo that I can’t formulate a single, sane thought?
I finally roll over to look at him, and the conflict etched into his expression confirms he feels something.
But what?
Before I can ask the question on the tip of my tongue, he launches himself off the bed.
“Get dressed.” His jaw twitches, anger blazing in the depths of his turbulent irises as he glares down at me.
“What if I don’t want to–?”
His sharp voice cuts me off.
“What you want doesn’t matter.” His spine stiffens. “You’re still marrying my brother.”
