img Ivory Ashes - A Mafia Romance  /  Chapter 3 | 1.74%
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Chapter 3

Word Count: 1272    |    Released on: Today at 04:49

e among the loude

ig, dumb mouth. In a flash, Mikhail crosse

stubbornly away from mine, but he might as well be smothering me. I f

nd whispers in my ear. "Do you want me to make good on

I don't know wh

abit? C

a pompous asshole and never thought of him again, no matter how muc

l didn't deign to talk to anyone else.

ing himself to be so

o find o

oss the suite. "I'm still here because helping clean up some

nly when I turn around to find the trash can that I remember what I'

isn't the only one. There's a noticeable bulge at

d finally back up to the dark holes where h

ifficult to read, but I

out of it. His mouth twists down into a scowl. "

ll you,'" I say in a terrible impression of his voice. "

the distance between us and swats the glass shards out of my hand. They rain down over my bare fee

on a show! I'm cleaning up the

lf. "Someone does one nice thing for you and you're throwing away your chance

that, I might sta

, though. As it is, my heart is doing a

wasn't a good fit

wasn

t care. I don't care, actually. Still, I find myself adding, "Is that why I'v

in his chest, his throat, past his lips in

he shifts closer to me. My

t to honor the deal our fathers made b

His thumb works into my pulse point as he tilts my head back so he's t

ing against his fingers

gne wash over me as he whispers, "It's about

be worse t

He slides closer. His erection pushes against t

about that. Fuck the deal our fathers made." His thumb strokes possessively a

t," I b

e before I ca

backwards. His long legs brush agains

looks down at me for a second before he wraps his big hands around my

VI

kes the outer curve of my ass, discovering an ero

deser

t mean sex

ce and future generations, Trofim and his evi

. It was part of the arrangement.

feel the need to

w a temper tantrum. Our engagement was planned by our respective paternal overlords to be just over six months

e Trofim had was t

unds confused. Like that math isn't even close

hat's the point of living if I can't rip o

t. The promise of seeing what's going on beneath Mik

thout sex is like a lif

last six

single time. Just one deep sound, low in his throat, before he slips his thumb under the lace. He plays in my wetness, drag

ike I'm an interesting

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