But with Anika, I can’t seem to help myself.
She’s consuming my every waking thought, haunting my dreams as well.
Heat sears through my veins as I stroke my cock to the image of her looking up at me with those big blue eyes.
I could easily fool myself into thinking she felt it too—the connection between us that is driving me out of my mind.
Just the thought of kissing her makes my cock pulse in my palm.
I doubt Anika would like it if she knew I was jerking off to thoughts of her. But I can’t help myself.
I want to know what she feels like in the midst of her rapture. I want to hear the sounds she makes when she comes.
I want to taste the sweet honey between her thighs as I devour her. I want to fill her with my seed so she’s ruined for any other man.
It’s the thought of Anika lying beneath me, crying out in ecstasy as I spear her with my cock that makes me come.
I have just enough time to grab a Kleenex from the box on the counter to catch it in, and I grunt as I wrap my palm around my swollen tip, releasing my cum in thick ropes.
Breathing heavily, I toss the spent Kleenex in the trash and groan—because the aching desire to fill Anika with my cock isn’t the least bit satiated.
Some of the tension knotting my shoulders is gone, but my craving for Anika is no less.
My body won’t be satisfied until I’ve tasted the real thing.
10
ANIKA
I can feel the charged anticipation in the air before I’m even fully awake. Like a predator in the room that I can’t quite see, but I can feel its eyes on me.
It’s my wedding day, and the humming bustle rises from below, where the staff prepare the main floor of the house for the special occasion.
It’s not going to be an extravagant affair. Considering it was put together in less than a week, it hardly seems like the wedding could be all that special.
But Chastity told me the household has been working overtime to pull it off.
And now the day has arrived.
I can taste the bitter anxiety that climbs up my throat as soon as my eyes open.
To my surprise, in the five days following my tense confrontation with Miko, he hasn’t taken liberties with me to satisfy his lust—even if I could feel how much he wanted to on the day he caught me trying to sneak off the Novikov property.
If I’d stayed in the same house as Pyotr before our wedding, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make himself at home in my bed—regardless of our marital status.
The fact that Miko hasn’t tried anything leaves me feeling anxious and unsteady.
They say it’s better to face the devil you know than the devil you don’t, and I just don’t know what to make of Miko.
He hasn’t given me much opportunity to observe him either.
I’ve hardly seen the oldest Chiaroscuro brother beyond our brief interactions at breakfast.
That’s largely in part because I’ve been confined to my room most of the day, with a guard on constant watch to ensure I don’t try to make another break for it.
And it would seem that revenge along with the task of crushing the Novikov empire into the ground must be something of a full-time job for Miko.
But when it comes to what he has planned for me, his absence has only fueled my subconscious’s creative license. I don’t quite know what to make of the conflicting emotions that cloud my sleep. I’ve been plagued by dreams of him slipping into my room late at night to take what he wants from me.
