Page 15 of Ruinous Need

VIKTOR

THE LIGHTS ARE still on in the apartment when I get home, though it’s close to midnight.

Markov nods at me as I enter.

I’m exhausted. Still, I can’t help hoping that Lisette’s going to be up waiting for me. I’ve never had anything to expect when I’ve come home before.

I enter the apartment and she’s curled on the couch, tapping a pencil against her lower lip as she does another one of her crosswords.

She jumps up with an excited squeal when she sees me.

I recognize the nightdress she has on from the lingerie I included with her clothes. Pale yellow and gauzy, ending just below the flare of her hips and barely covering her up. She sees me staring — I’m in no state to hide my arousal right now — and does a graceful little twirl for me.

So fucking cute and pure.

My stomach twists at the exact moment that my heart pounds against my ribcage. She’s becoming a distraction, but God, does it feel good to be distracted right now.

“Viktor,” she smiles, her eyes glowing with happiness and radiance. She pulls me down for a hug.

I inhale her cinnamon and sugar scent, and it’s like a weight lifts off my shoulders.

I pull away before I get too comfortable like this. Just because my body craves Lisette, just because I’ve missed her, doesn’t mean it’s any safer to touch her now than it was three days ago.

She’s engaged to my cousin. Not just that, but the people I love are the ones who get chewed up and spat out by the beast that is the New York Bratva.

“Good to see you,” I mumble, turning to go upstairs and shower.

“Wait, Viktor, I thought we could watch a movie? I downloaded this —”

“We can’t watch a movie, Lisette. I’ve just been away for a week and I want nothing more than a shower and to sleep.”

I wonder if she can tell it’s a lie. It sounds hollow to my ears.

“Fine then.” She pouts and shrugs her shoulders.

Lisette brushes past me to head to the couch, and my body reacts without thinking. Blame my lack of sleep after driving for three days.

I’ve grabbed her hand. Caught her delicate wrist in my grasp.

My chest rises and falls rapidly. At the exact same time as hers.

I drop her wrist and walk to the other side of the kitchen counter.She follows me to the other side and slips in front of me, standing between me and the kitchen counter.

“Lisette. I need you to stop.”

“Stop what?” It would be so easy just to lift her up and yank her booty shorts down and enter her. One quick movement.

I pray that she hasn’t noticed the obvious bulge tenting my pants.

“Acting like you don’t know what you’re fucking doing to me.”

I fold my hands over my chest, because if I don’t, I’ll reach for her. And that cannot happen.

She looks up at me from under a strand of her hair. Her green eyes are stormy and swirling.

“No.” Her voice is soft but resolute. “Don’t ask me to stop, Viktor.”

She’s close, but she leans closer, placing a hand on my chest. The smell of her clouds my head.

I exhale through my nose, counting silently. Three seconds. Ten. Twenty.

Lost in her eyes. That swirling, clear green ocean is the only place I want to vacation.

I should be able to step away. I shouldn’t be standing so close to her. The tension shouldn’t be stretching and straining and lengthening to the point where it must snap.

I don’t notice her moving until it’s too late. Or maybe I try to ignore it, so I don’t reach to stop her the way I should.

At first, I’m not cooperating. Willing myself to stay as still as a statue and not lean down to meet her. But the second her lips are on mine, gentle and insistent, that’s unsustainable.

An animal sound bursts from my throat as Lisette stands on her tip-toes and tilts her head up to brush her lips against mine.

I grasp her hair and pull her to my mouth. I kiss her as though the action of our lips meeting can erase everything that’s wrong with this picture, every stupid risk that we’re taking.

I’ve never tasted anything so addictive. I need to consume her. Lisette’s mouth parts under my tongue, her sweet gasps sound into my mouth, and her pulse thrums under my thumb as I pin her to the wall with a hand on her throat.

My tongue consumes her mouth. I am gripped by the need to memorize every part of her, every curve and divot, every fucking tastebud.

When I take her bottom lip between my teeth, she moans from deep in her throat and it vibrates against my hand.

I’m crushing her against the wall and she’s loving every second.

I think I could kiss her like this all day.

The way my cock leaps when she drops her hand down to my pants reminds me what a dangerous game we’re playing.

I know that if I enter Lisette, I’m never going to stop. Not until she’s mine, wholly and completely and irreversibly.

“Not that.” I push her away, firmly, as she reaches for the waistband of my pants. My cock aches at the denial of her touch.

What the fuck am I thinking?

At least, when there’s pain involved, I’ve got plausible deniability. I can pretend that I was punishing her for her insolence. And God knows there’s enough of that to go around.

But kissing her? Allowing her to touch me? That’s a line I shouldn’t cross.

“Please, Viktor.” Her eyes are wide and trusting. My cock aches to let her slide her hand lower. To take me in that sweet mouth. To fuck her throat the way I’ve been dreaming about. To spill into the depths of the tight pussy that I’ve only tasted.

I kiss her again, but I’m under control now. She moans against my lips as I tug at her bottom lip with my teeth, biting just enough to sting.

Lisette’s eyes flick open as I close my hand around her neck.

“You like it, don’t you?” She nods. I feel her pulse race under my palm.

She lets me squeeze her neck, her sea-green eyes wide but trusting on mine the whole time.

“Are you going to be good?”

My teeth graze the tip of her ear.

“Y-yes.”

“I know you are.” My other hand slides down between her legs. Checking for wetness. So I can feel every drop of moisture adding to her already damp panties. “Such a good girl. But I’m going to make you crave bad things.”

I shove her panties aside and enter her quickly with my fingers. She cries out at the stretch, a beautiful sound that becomes husky in her throat.

I have so much control over her like this, with my hand tight on her neck and my fingers inside her. Every whimper, every moan, every movement is mine.

She’s noticed my erection against her stomach. She keeps trying to bring her pussy closer to my bulge, as though it would feel better than my hand.

As though, if she got close enough, my self-control would break and I’d fuck her.

Maybe she’s right.

As she screams with her orgasm I remove my hand from her throat but keep her pinned to the wall with my body. I don’t stop. I bunch her panties together and use the fabric to create sawing friction over her swollen nub.

I nip at her ear when she tries to squeeze her thighs together. “Whose cunt is this?”

“Please.”

I grip her chin, forcing her head around to meet my eyes. “I asked you a question, Lisette.”

She draws a shuddering breath but I can see that she’s already close to the edge. “Yours,” she answers.

Correct answer. I smile with satisfaction and kiss her until she moans.

“And I’ll do whatever I want with it. You, my little screamer, will like it.”

I pinch her clit between my fingers again and the tremors of an orgasm start.

I won’t be satisfied with wrecking her with pleasure. I want to destroy her with it. Until she’s nothing but a trembling, sweaty mess, naked and dripping on the floor of my apartment.

As long as I’m not fucking her, I can tell myself I’m still in control.