Mykolas gazed down at her. “Does it still hurt?”
She said baldly, “Yes.”
Her tone would have made him smile if only he wasn’t in such pain himself. Everything in him demanded that he move. She felt so f**king good, so unbelievably tight, that his body was trembling at the effort it took to keep himself still.
“Are you sure it still hurts?”
Again, her panicky gaze flew to him and her nails dug into his shoulders. “If you move, I’ll kill you.”
“Says the one who practically raped me,” he managed to tease.
She glared at him. “Move. Kill.”
More unbearably agonizing moments passed.
“Still hurts?”
“Move. Kill.”
He clenched his teeth harder. Goddammit, this would go on forever if he didn’t do something.
Velvet squeaked when she felt Mykolas starting to move. Even the tiniest move of his c**k inside her made Velvet feel raw, and she couldn’t prevent a lone tear from slipping down her face.
He saw it, of course. “I’m sorry,” he said tautly. “I’ll make it better.” He slid his hand between their bodies.
“You can’t—”
Mykolas kissed her, swallowing the rest of her words with his mouth the same time he started to tease her cl*t back to life. He kissed her tenderly, passionately while keeping his strokes on her cl*t just fast enough to make her hot and wet. He kept kissing her even as he could feel her inner muscles relaxing, wetness slowly flooding back into her passages, and Mykolas could have groaned with sheer relief when he finally felt her legs fall wide open the same time her h*ps started to move.
He lifted his head. “Now,” he whispered, “I can f**k you.”
Before she could think of what to say to that, he was already being true to his word. He f**ked her long and slow at first, and when she was gasping and writhing under him, that was when he thrust faster and harder into her, pounding into Velvet’s pu**y again and again. He pounded into her so hard she could see stars and God, she wanted more of those stars.
“More,” she begged, feeling like she could never get enough of Mykolas’ cock. She clung to him tightly, trying to meet every thrust. Her hands moved down, gripping his smooth hard bu**ocks, and her nails dug deep into the skin, urging him to take her as deeply as he could.
Mykolas groaned at the feel of her hands on his body. “You want it harder?” he rasped just before pulling out almost completely and then slamming back inside her, sinking his c**k to the hilt. He did this again and again, and each time Velvet would scream his name, the sound of her pleasure working better than any aphrodisiac and making him f**k her harder with his every thrust.
She raked her nails across his back, her head tossing left and right as she could feel her body twisting inside, getting ready for an orgasm that was sure to make her pass out. “Mykolas…” The words I love you burned inside her throat, but knowing she couldn’t say it, she pulled him closer to her instead and sank her teeth into his shoulder hard.
The pain and pleasure from her unexpected bite had Mykolas gasping, his back arching as his orgasm came out of nowhere. “Fuck!” His movements became frenzied, and even as he started coming he had the presence of mind to take Velvet with him. Inserting his hand between their bodies, he easily found her cl*t and gave it a hard little twist that had Velvet abruptly coming with a gasp, her eyes rolling back at the sheer strength of her release.
When she woke up, her first thought was that she had to leave. It was Sunday, and all teachers of GAYL were expected to be back in their dorms tonight. She had no choice but to leave…Mykolas.
Mykolas was lying on his side, head propped on one arm. She found him gazing at her steadily when she slowly opened her eyes. Again, the words I love you burned inside her, but she knew she shouldn’t say it.
“Good morning, agape mou.” Idly, he stroked her cheek, mesmerized by its soft pale beauty. He had been awake for quite some time, and every second of it he had spent merely watching her. He knew without a doubt that he could never let her go. He had known it earlier, the first time he had a taste of her. But now, the earth-shattering experience of his possession of her body had cemented the truth.
She was his, but it had to be on his terms. They had to do this right, with no false expectations. Everyone had a price. Even his mother, his beautiful g*y mother who he had once thought the world of, had eventually sold eight-year-old Mykolas to his grandfather when life became too hard and she realized that she loved being rich more than she loved her own son.
“Good morning.” Velvet found herself captivated by the look in Mykolas’ eyes. Oh…damn. She wanted to drown in his gaze again. This was fast becoming a really bad habit. She had to ask Mairi if there was a cure for obsession with Greek billionaires. Then again, Mairi was Mairi – the only thing she probably had was a potion to stay in love with Greek billionaires, no matter if they acted like the greatest bastards on earth.
“I have a question for you…” He brought her hand to his lips, and kissing it, he said softly, “I want you to be my wife.”
Velvet’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe Mykolas Sallis was asking her to be his wife. Did it mean that he felt it, too? Did it mean he had also fallen in love with her even before they had seen each other? But before she could answer, he was talking again.
“So tell me. What is the price for your hand in marriage?”
And just like that, her heart crashed. A part of her ached to tell Mykolas that her love had no price. That it was his for the taking and would forever be his. But she knew…it was not time yet. She needed time to convince him that love need not have a price, but for that to happen, she had to lie.
Quietly, she gave him a price.
Chapter Seven
“A gold-digger, you say?” Mykolas drawled over the phone to his father hours later. He was seated at one of the bar stools while admiring the way Velvet’s h*ps swayed as she moved about the yacht’s tiny kitchen. She had insisted on preparing them brunch. She had also warned him she had no domestic skills at all, but since he was about to be her husband, Mykolas was expected to eat everything to the last crumb and tell her she was the most fantastic cook in the world – even if she was not.
Pausing in her careful slicing of prosciutto, Velvet made a face at Mykolas’ words. After accepting his business proposal and giving him a few conditions of her own, he had given her a little bit of his background, his wry tone hiding a wealth of emotions when he spoke of his father.