Page 43 of Jewel of the Assassin

One more grinding rotation of his hips. Then, he lunges inside me again. I bear down, seizing, falling apart for him, crying his name over and over.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my lips, watching me come undone as the intense pleasure threatens to crush me. “Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful. Making those sweet noises when I’m fucking you, praying my name when you come. By the time I’m fucking finished with you, you’ll be a hot, soaked, bow-legged mess on the floor, ready to kiss my feet and express your undying gratitude for how I’ve destroyed you.”

My pussy clenches again, almost coming from his words. Tears blur my vision. More sting my throat like acid. I hate how his dirty talk turns me on. Only Roman Makarova could make degradation sound like praise.

One rocking of his hips, and he has me on the ground again. The cold bites into my back, the stone chafing the open wounds, but it’s nothing compared to when he spreads my legs wider apart and shoves my thighs up to my shoulders until the undersides of my knees drop onto his shoulders. It gives him unrestrained access, especially with the spreader. His cock digs in deeper than ever, and my cunt screams. My folds are swollen and puffy, my clit distended and slippery. My muscles squeeze around his shaft, which feels thicker and longer, impossible.

“Fuck, look at you.” He plants a kiss along the curve of my throat as he gives three slow, testing thrusts. I gasp, eyes closing until he grips my jaw, fingers burrowing into my cheeks. “What the fuckdid I say?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whisper, giving him my eyes in obedience.

“Now, I’m going to really fuck you, Valentina.”

Because he somehow wasn’t before? Fuck, I’m doomed. He’s going to send me into cardiac arrest.

Something vicious and carnal enters his eyes and scares the shit out of me. “Prepare for me to beat this cunt up, use you, and violate you. Won’t stop until you’re a wretched, aching, begging mess.”

And he does. He comes out all the way, then slams into me. I sob from the pressure as he moves. My core clenches around him as he brutalizes me, ricocheting my heart.

Roman moves faster, and my heart pulses to the rabid rhythm. I reach for him, relieved when he lets me sink my nails into his ass. He flexes, nearly breaking them with his rock-hard glutes.

“That’s it, Valentina.” Roman pistons his hips, pumping in and out, his breath hot against my face. “Take what you need. Touch me, moya zhena. Cry for me,wife.”

He doesn’t hold back. He wreaks carnage on my cunt, savaging me. My breasts swing with every jerking motion. I meet his deeply hooded stare, my grip tightening on his ass. A soft scream escapes my throat.

“An army could be laying siege to my island, and I wouldn’t fucking stop,” he growls, cupping my breast and rolling the nipple between two fingers. “I’d slaughter any man who would dare come between me and this hot, little cunt.” He takes my hand and plants it where we are joined. I clench harder, and he groans before leveling my eyes with his. “It’s mine now. Fucking forever. I swear, on all the graves of my ancestors, Valentina Makarova, you are my wife, and if any man dares take you, I’ll cut their dick and balls off with a rusty, dull blade and fuck you over their miserable, bloody corpse.”

I shiver down to my soul. I can’t remember…that depth of primal possession, of intense sovereignty. I don’t know what to do with it.

His head bows to mine, and he touches his lips to my brow in a light kiss that has me trembling from the shock of vulnerability.

Somehow, the pain fades to pleasure, the burn melting into a glow. It radiates from my spine and spreads like veins of slow, mounting pleasure. Every nerve ending stoked.

Roman Makarova is a shameless asshole. But he’s my husband. So, I guess that makes himmyshameless asshole.

His hand grips my throat again, siphoning my air as he leans in with predatory stillness. “Say you’re mine, Valentina.”

He releases me long enough for air to flood in. I gasp out, “I’m yours.”

“Again,” he snarls, biting the edge of my ear and plowing into me harder.

“Godfuckingshit—I’m yours!”

Five rapid-fire thrusts, and he stops, freezing, his eyes shattering every cell in my body. “What’s your fucking name?”

Ragged breaths leave my throat as I stare down the beast in his eyes. I bring mine to the surface. A fiery, fierce, jealous, little bitch who will sink her teeth and claws into him. If he ever betrays me, I’ll drag his goddamn ass to the gates of hell while it’s still charred and smoking, tied up with a big red bow for the Devil to finish the job.

My body rises, hips rocking to take him deeper.

In a dead stalemate, a queen meeting her king on the board, I part my lips and whisper,“Valentina Makarova!”

A sinful, twisted smirk spreads. “Goodfuckinggirl. Now, scream my name as I fuck you like the beautiful bitch in heat you are. Goddamn, gorgeous little slut.”

I want to scratch and claw and gnash my teeth from the statement. But he’s right, isn’t he? Again, he’s brought degradation and praise together that gets me hotter, wetter, sluttier. So fucking fucked for this beautiful, lethal male.

“Roman!” I scream before he fucks my mouth with his.

He forces himself into me, driving and ramming and beating me with his cock. “Say it again,” he commands and kneads my breast before slapping the swell.