Page 22
He lifts a hand and brushes my hair back. “Good.”
He leans in and captures my lips. It’s gentle. Barely there. A whisper of a touch. Then he pulls back, his fingers lingering on the nape of my neck.
He doesn’t have to speak. His intentions are clear. This isn’t a demand. It’s an invitation. All I have to do is close the distance.
I do.
Our mouths meet again, and this time, his tongue slips into my mouth, and he tastes like whiskey and heat and lust. His hands find my hips, and he pulls me against him.
The hard ridge of his cock presses into my stomach.
I make a sound that’s part gasp and part moan.
The kiss turns deeper, harder, hungrier, yet somehow still gentle.
His mouth claims mine, his tongue invading and retreating, leaving me breathless.
His fingers tangle in my hair, and his body presses against me until we’re touching from hip to chest. His mouth trails across my jaw, down my neck, leaving a path of kisses and fire.
The last time we were together, it all felt so desperate and animalistic.
Now, it’s a different kind of heat, and it’s just as dangerous.
I’m losing control. Losing myself in the feeling of his lips on mine and his hands exploring my body and his hard cock pressing against me. My heart is pounding, and my pussy is wet and throbbing, and I can’t stop myself from kissing him back.
His hands slide over my waist, down my ass, and stop just below the hem of my dress.
Then he squeezes. I gasp, and the sound is swallowed up by his kiss.
My hands grip the back of his shirt, fisting the fabric.
The heat between us builds, and our bodies move closer, like we’re trying to melt into each other. Like we’re trying to become one.
His lips find the curve of my ear. “Take it off.”
It’s not a request. It’s a command.
I hesitate, and his hand tightens on my ass. “Take it off.”
His voice sends a shiver through me, and my clit throbs. I want him. More than anything, I want him.
I want him to fuck me. To take me. To claim me.
And he knows it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
There’s a warning in his voice. A threat. And it only makes me want him more.
I pull away from him and turn around. I grab the hem and lift the dress over my head, revealing my bare skin to him. I stand there, facing away from him, wearing nothing but a black lace thong and matching bra.
I can feel him looking at me, drinking in the sight of my exposed body. My skin prickles with heat and anticipation. I’m standing here, practically naked, offering myself to him. I’ve never done anything like this before, and the vulnerability of it fogs my mind.
“Keep going,” he urges.
My fingers find the clasp on my bra. It releases, and I let the straps fall down my arms. I hear him suck in a breath. Then, the straps are lifted off my skin, and his lips press against the curve of my shoulder. I shudder, and the bra falls to the floor.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, with his mouth still against my skin. “Now the rest.”
My panties are the only thing left, and they’re soaked through with my arousal. He wants them off, and so do I. But when my hands go to the edge of the waistband, his grip closes over mine.
“Allow me,” he growls.
I bite my lip, trying to keep my composure as his hands move over my hips and the fabric begins to slide down. The thong bunches at the tops of my thighs, and his fingertips stroke the sensitive skin.
“You’re already so wet.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before his fingers dip between my thighs, and a ragged groan escapes his throat. “So wet.”
I can’t respond. I’m too distracted by the feeling of his hand cupping my sex and the tips of his fingers dipping into the slickness of my folds. He spreads the wetness, and a whimper slips from my lips. He chuckles darkly.
“That’s right, Cecily. Let me hear how much you want this.”
His fingers slide over my clit, and the sensation makes my knees buckle. He keeps going, circling and stroking, until my breathing is ragged and my legs are trembling. He presses the tip of his finger into my opening, and the pressure makes me nearly collapse.
“Dimitri…”
“Yes?”
“Please…”
He laughs. “Begging already? I like the sound of that.”
I moan as his finger sinks into me, and his palm grinds against my clit. My hips start moving, matching the rhythm of his hand, and he lets out a growl.
“Fuck, Cecily. Your pussy feels so fucking good. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
The image is enough to make me moan, and the noise only spurs him on. He starts pumping his finger, and the friction is intense. I can feel an orgasm building, and the thought of coming on his hand, just like this, is almost enough to send me over the edge.
But just before I do, he stops.
His fingers slip from my pussy, and the absence of his touch is almost painful. I’m on the edge, and I need to come. Badly. But he’s not going to give it to me. Not yet.
Instead, he turns me around to face him and hoists me up, setting me down on the table. The wood is cold and smooth against my bare ass.
“Spread your legs,” he commands.
I do, and he positions himself between them. I can feel the hard ridge of his erection, straining against his pants. He grabs my hips and yanks me forward, until I’m on the edge, teetering and exposed.
My hands land on his shoulders for support, and his grey eyes blaze into mine. His hands are moving up and down the outside of my thighs, and I can feel the callouses on his palms. He’s so strong. So powerful. And right now, he’s focused entirely on me.
“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
Instead of answering, I reach for his belt, tugging the leather strap free.
My fingers work quickly, undoing the buttons and zipper and sliding his pants down his hips.
His boxers follow, and when he literally tears his shirt off, he’s standing before me, naked and powerful and hard as a rock.
The tip is glistening with precum, and I have the urge to lean forward and taste it. I’m transfixed.
He strokes the length, and I watch, mesmerized, as his hand moves up and down. Then, his other hand cups my face and tilts my head up.
“Cecily. Look at me.”
I blink, tearing my eyes away from his cock. When I look up, the expression on his face is smoldering.
“I’m going to fuck you. Right here. Right now. And I want to look in your eyes when I do it.”
My heart thunders in my chest, and I swallow hard. “Okay.”
“Do you want that?”
I nod.
His hands settle on my hips, and his cock nudges against the inside of my thigh. He’s so close, and the heat of him is almost unbearable. I ache for him, and he knows it.
“Then tell me,” he whispers.
“I want you,” I breathe.
“Say it again.”
“I want you, Dimitri. I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.”
He grins, and his hands move down, grabbing my ass and pulling me forward. I lean back, bracing myself on the table. He lines his cock up with my pussy, and the blunt tip slips over my wetness. All I can think about is him filling me. Stretching me. Fucking me until I can’t think straight.
I wrap my legs around his hips, urging him forward. He chuckles and leans in as his mouth finds the curve of my neck.
“Be patient,” he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive skin.
I squirm against him, desperate for more. My whole body is on fire, and I need him to put it out. I’m ready to beg.
“Please,” I moan. “Please, Dimitri. Please fuck me.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before he pushes forward.
His cock slides into me, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated.
I gasp, and his teeth find the lobe of my ear.
He sucks and bites, and his cock pulses inside me.
He pulls back, almost all the way out, then slams back in, filling me completely.
I cry out, and he does it again. And again.
He sets a brutal pace, fucking me hard and deep. His cock stretches me, and the pressure is almost overwhelming. His mouth never leaves my skin, and his fingers dig into my hips. I grip the edge of the table, bracing myself against his thrusts.
My pussy is slick and swollen, and every time his cock sinks into me, it’s pure bliss. His breath is hot against my skin, his body is hard and solid, and his hands are everywhere.
He ducks down to gather my nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting, and his thrusts never slow.
“You feel so good,” he growls, and the words vibrate against my breast.
His cock plunges into me, and I’m lost. My eyes roll back, and my body arches against him. He pumps into me, and my whole world is centered on his thick cock buried inside me. The pressure is building, and I’m so close. So fucking close.
“Dimitri,” I moan.
He groans, and his thrusts quicken. His fingers slide down between us, finding my clit, and the sensation is enough to push me over the edge.
My pussy clenches around him, and an orgasm rips through me.
I cry out, and his mouth covers mine, swallowing the sounds of my pleasure.
I ride the wave, letting it carry me. My nails dig into his back, and he doesn’t stop.
He fucks me, relentlessly, and my orgasm continues to shudder through me.
I’m still coming when his own orgasm hits. His thrusts become erratic, and his body tenses. He comes with a grunt, and his cock pulses inside me. He fills me, and I milk every drop.
When it’s over, we’re both panting and spent. Our bodies are pressed together, slick with sweat. I can feel his heart hammering against my chest, and his cock is still buried inside me.
We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath. My fingers stroke the back of his neck, and he lets out a satisfied sigh.
This isn’t what I expected tonight to be like. It’s not what I thought I wanted. But in this moment, everything feels perfect.
But panic rises in my chest as reality slowly comes into focus. What we did—what we’re doing—it’s dangerous. We’re not supposed to be here. We’re not supposed to want each other. Not like this.
I’ve seen the way he is with his Bratva brothers, and I’ve heard the stories about how ruthless and violent he can be. I’m not supposed to see the cracks in the armor or the pain behind the scars.
Yes, we’re technically married, but the marriage isn’t real. He’s not supposed to be a man, or a person, or anything but the monster that took me and claimed me and turned my world upside down.
What are we doing?
What am I doing?
It’s one thing to be taken by force, but to willingly sleep with him? To crave his touch, his kiss, his body?
It’s wrong. It’s twisted. It’s dangerous.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading the conflict written on my face.
Gently, I nudge him back.
Dimitri takes the hint and slips out of me. A trail of cum drips down the inside of my leg, and I feel a sudden, deep pang of guilt.
I don’t want to talk. Not about what just happened. Not about anything. I can’t let him get close to me, or me to him.
“I need to use the restroom,” I say, pulling away.
Dimitri nods and lets me go.
I hurry down the hall and shut myself inside the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror looks flushed and disheveled, but also happy. Satisfied.
I turn on the water and splash my face. When I look up, the girl in the mirror is a stranger. She looks like she’s lost.
That’s because you are.