Page 155 of Jewel of the Assassin

A storm of lust and emotion rips through me. Whenever I try to move now, he snarls and pounds me even harder. He takes all the control. My breasts bounce and swing against his chest. His strokes are slow, pointed, but deep. The thunder rolls before the burning lightning.

All I can do is hold on for dear life as he savages my pussy. Like he is bringing me to the deepest circle of hell, one last time, before our new dynamic, our new era, begins. I’ll feel his cock’s flaming imprint in my pussy tomorrow. But it will never top the night he destroyed me in the chapel.

The chill in the air is extreme compared to the fire of him fucking me. All my senses are kindled, wanting nothing but him.

Roman crashes his mouth against mine, stabbing his tongue inside, flicking the roof of my mouth with the tip. One hand grips my ass, kneading the flesh, the scars, while he grips my throat with his other, holding me where he wants me. No choking. No breath play. But the way he kisses…steals my breath every time.

When I cry, he groans, and I feel the rumble in my chest.

His dangerous hunger crawls along my skin like a dark, sexual energy. And somehow, he is still calm, violently calm. My bodyshakes with my need. I’ll never stop craving him and the blissful delirium only he can give.

Picking up his rhythm, my husband fucks me like it’s the first and last time. The moment I clench, my inner muscles fluttering, he rises. I gasp into his mouth as he descends the throne and lowers me right onto the icy floor. My yelp gets caught in my throat from the sudden temperature change. It steals my orgasm away just as I know he wanted.

And then? He’s kissing his way down my body.

“My Lord!” I whimper when the wet heat of his mouth covers my breast. He’s stoking the flames in me again. Ice at my back. Fire at my front. Endorphins raging in a world between.

My nipples throb as he kisses, sucks, and licks like a man starved, fucking me and ripping me open without fail. When I reach for him, he grips my wrists, pinning them to each side. Frost sears my palms. But all I can feel is my skin catching fire, my body shaking. He licks and tongues my nipples, tugging at them with his teeth while my breasts grow swollen and heavy.

When his fingers find my slippery clit, I cry out. Cold as ice, they stroke the engorged nub. But he’s a flaming war hammer rocking me. His fingers pause as he grinds into me. But they return a second later with another cold kiss. He’s rubbing real frost into my clitoris. His stamina, his expertise at mastering me, ruling me, are ultimate. Closing my eyes, I lift my hips, receiving him, begging for him.

His hot breath lances my face a moment before he says, “Good girl. Take it. Take it all. Fuck it like the filthy slut you are. Moya zhená, moya dushá.”

Tears burn my eyes as he slays me more than ever. He’s branded me more than just the crown on my chest. And the flames and threads binding us have become stronger than jewels, than diamonds. “Muzh - golová,” I echo as his lips descend. Just a breath above mine.

“No other cunt grips me like yours, Valentina. So goddamnhot, wet, tight. Most beautiful fucking cunt on the most unbelievable, exquisite woman.”

Those dastardly fingers rub more ice onto my clit until it’s a red, plump knot of nerves drinking in every touch while my slutty pussy sucks his cock like it’s her last supper.

“Come,” he growls, slamming his mouth down on me, ravenous, possessive, and unrelenting.

My pulse spins wild. The fire and ice combust. He explodes, burying himself so deep inside me, but I erupt, spiraling into a vortex of pressure, pain, and unbelievable and exquisite pleasure.

I’m barely down from the high when he pulls out, locks his eyes on me, and commands, “Again.”

My lips part in shock because his fingers don’t stop rubbing. He dives, shoving my legs to each side and delving his tongue into my soaked pussy. I buck and scream from the hypersensitivity. He doesn’t stop. He torments the swollen knot with beautiful precision, alternating between his hot mouth and fingers rubbing ice. Heat and frost attack me again and again.

I rocket into another orgasm, screaming his name so high and shrill, I’m certain I’ve cracked the icy walls.

At last, he puts me on his throne. My bare bottom crying out from the extreme cold. But I forget it all when he seals his mouth to me and licks and sucks and eats me out. I come so many times, the frozen seat beneath me…melts.

52

“Trying to kill my husband wasn’t your worst choice.”

ROMAN

This is an escalation.

But a necessary one.

The room reeks of expensive cigars, ambition, and deceit. Heavy curtains shut out the city, the crystal chandelier casting light over polished mahogany and men who would slit each other’s throats if it meant another empire to their name.

I lounge at the head of the table and let my gaze sweep the room. Advanced tech. Rare earth minerals. Oil. Antiquities. A handful of shadowy tycoons, each representing interests that could make or break the Northern shipping routes, the Arctic supply lines, and even entire industrial sectors. They all know why they’re here. They know who owns the strings. And I don’t need a gun to prove it.

Valentina stands before me. I glide my fingers along her arm, feeling the steady warmth of her, the pulse beneath her skin. A glimmering vision in the gold dress. Imported silk. I spared no expense with the jewels.

They see a woman at my side and think she’s here for ornament. They’re wrong. She is my ultimate weapon. By the end of the night, they will know the repute she has gained is even greater than my legacy. Sheismy legacy. And the child she carries.