Terrible Beauty (Molotov Betrothal #1) Read Online Anna Zaires

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Molotov Betrothal Series by Anna Zaires
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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If I’d been less of a coward, we could’ve been here years ago, without all the suffering, all the deaths.

With our eyes locked, I see the exact moment his iron self-control shatters. A shudder ripples through his powerful body, and with a guttural growl, he surges into me, penetrating me all the way in one brutal thrust. The shock of it reverberates through my body, making my breath seize and my muscles go rigid. It’s more than a stretch, this merciless invasion, and the tears I’ve been holding back leak out of the corners of my eyes as I writhe against him, my inner tissues struggling to adjust to his immense size. The pain kills the last remnants of the heat inside me, leaving behind only a cold, bitter sense of violation—and it’s a victory of sorts.

The last thing I want is to enjoy this.

Only… he manages to stop, teeth gritted as he holds himself still, his cock lodged deep inside me. His gaze homes in on the wetness on my temples, and he swears, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them, they blaze with grim determination. “No,” he growls. “Nice try, but this isn’t how it’s going to go.”

Keeping his hold on my wrists, he shifts his weight onto that elbow and wedges his free hand between our bodies, moving it down to where we’re joined. Unerringly, he finds my clit and applies pressure, making my breath catch for a different reason. It’s no longer pain that rockets through my nerve endings, making my inner muscles squeeze around his thick cock—nor is it precisely pleasure. But as he begins to move his fingers in tiny circles, I find my hips shimmying with the same rhythm, chasing more of that distracting sensation, that pressure that doesn’t eliminate the painful fullness inside me but makes it tolerable. Makes it… oh, fuck.

I close my eyes, not wanting him to see the defeat in my gaze, but he knows anyway. He always knows. His lips ghost over my eyelashes, then over both of my temples, kissing away my tears, and his fingers pick up pace. With preternatural, demonic patience, he coaxes out my arousal, making my body soften against my will. Before long, the heat inside me returns, and so does the aching tension. I shouldn’t be able to respond again, not with my body filled so ruthlessly, so fully, yet I can’t help myself. My breath comes in panting gasps, my brain swimming with endorphins as I strain my arms in a futile effort to free my wrists, and the erotic tension grows, crowding out the pain, drowning out everything but the knowledge that I’ve lost this battle… that eventually, I’ll also lose the war.

“Look at me,” he orders hoarsely, and I have no choice but to comply.

Opening my eyes, I hold his gaze as he begins to move inside me, filling me with hard, driving thrusts, his face taut with the strain of controlling himself. Then that unnatural control of his cracks again, and he takes me with all the savagery he’s kept so carefully leashed. Each brutal stroke of his cock fills me and destroys me, taking me ever higher until my vision glows white and my breath hisses between my clenched teeth. Until every muscle in my body spasms and releases as I scream his name, while he groans and thrusts even deeper before shuddering over me in his own powerful release.

Until there’s no doubt that he’s won, and I’m now his.

Chapter 29

Present Day, Location Unknown

The storm has passed, the waves lapping gently at the hull by the time Alexei carries me into the adjoining bathroom. Through the circular window by the tub, I catch a glimpse of the clear night sky speckled with stars before he flicks on the light switch with his elbow, flooding the room with brighter light.

Somebody must’ve drawn a bath for us earlier because the clawfoot tub is full. By now, however, that water must be cold. Alexei must reach the same conclusion because he carries me straight into the shower stall, where he carefully sets me on my feet and turns on the water.

I shiver at the initial coolness of the spray and back away, only to give a start when the cold tiles press against my shoulder blades. I lean back against the wall anyway, my legs too weak to support my weight. Biting my lip, I close my eyes and try to steady my breath, ignoring the throbbing soreness deep inside me.

Three times. That’s how many times he’s taken me today, wringing pleasure from my sore, exhausted body and giving me only a few minutes of respite in between. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If he’s told me the truth about not fucking other women since our betrothal, he has a decade of sexual deprivation to make up for.



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