Page 13 of Sin in My Inbox (Sexting Spark #1)

I took a deep breath, grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey off a nearby crate, and chugged a big gulp. The liquor burned like fire down my throat, scorching my insides, lighting my blood on fire, and numbing my brain. I needed that haze to drown out the fear and guilt clawing at me.

Wiping the whiskey from my lips with the back of my hand, I started unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers shaking.

In the dim light, his skin glowed a warm bronze, but that jagged scar across his chest stood out like a brutal reminder.

It hit me hard—how much pain had he endured?

Who did this to him? What kind of hell had he walked through in that dark world of his?

For a split second, my fear melted into something softer, an ache to soothe his pain.

When my lips brushed the scar on his chest, I felt him shudder under my touch.

That tiny reaction spurred me on. I kept going, kissing, licking, my hands roaming over his body.

When my fingers grazed him through his pants, his muscles tensed, his breath hitching.

The heat pooling between my thighs told me I wasn't the only one losing control.

"You win, little liar," he rasped, dropping his hands to wrap his arms around me, pulling me so tight it was like he wanted to fuse us together.

He scooped me up in one swift move, carrying me to the only table in this dusty storage room.

With a quick sweep, he sent glasses and junk crashing to the floor, the sharp tang of spilled liquor filling the air.

He set me down on the table, the rough wood digging into my back as his hands slid up my skin, the silk of my dress no match for his rough palms.

The moment Dmitri's lips crashed into mine, I knew there was no turning back.

His tongue was hot, demanding, and fucking relentless, exploring my mouth like he owned it.

He did. My body arched against his, the silk of my evening gown brushing against his bare chest, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric.

His hands were everywhere—my waist, my hips, my ass—gripping me with a roughness that made my cunt pulse with need.

"Fuck, Dmitri," I moaned into his mouth.

His ice-blue eyes locked on mine, and I could see the hunger in them—the kind of hunger that made my stomach flip and my thighs clench.

"You've been teasing me all night, Ella," he growled, his voice low and dangerous as he yanked the slit of my dress open, exposing my thighs and the wet lace of my panties.

"Wearing this fucking dress, walking around like you don't know what it does to me. "

I gasped as his hand slid up my thigh, his fingers rough and impatient, and then he ripped my panties clean off.

The sound of the fabric tearing sent a jolt of arousal straight to my core.

"Dmitri!" I hissed, glancing nervously at the door.

We were in the storage room of the gala, for fuck's sake, and anyone could walk in.

But he didn't care. He never cared.

"Shut up," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble as he unbuckled his belt with one hand while the other pinned me to the table. I squirmed beneath him, but he was too strong, too fucking dominant. "You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted me to fuck you like this?"

"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely audible even to myself.

He didn't make me say it twice. In one swift motion, he shoved his pants down just enough to free his cock—thick, hard, and already glistening at the tip.

My mouth watered at the sight of it, but before I could even think about reaching for him, he grabbed my hips and slammed into me with a force that stole my breath.

"Fuck!" I cried out, my nails digging into the wood beneath me as he filled me completely, stretching me in the best fucking way. He didn't give me time to adjust, just started pounding into me with a rhythm that was punishing and perfect all at once.

"That's it," he grunted, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I knew there'd be bruises tomorrow. "Fucking take it, Ella. Take every inch of me."

I could feel every thrust—deep, relentless, and fucking spectacular—his cock hitting that spot inside me that made my toes curl and my vision blur. My tits bounced with each movement, the thin fabric of my dress doing nothing to hide them from his hungry gaze.

And then, footsteps. Loud, heavy footsteps just outside the door.

I froze, panic surging through me even as pleasure coiled tighter in my belly. "Dmitri," I whispered desperately, trying to push him away. "Someone's coming—"

But he didn't stop. If anything, he went harder, his hips slamming into mine with a force that made the table creak dangerously. "Let them hear," he snarled, his voice cutting through the haze of my fear and arousal. "Let them hear how fucking good I'm making you feel."

I bit down on my lip to stifle my moans, but it was useless. Every thrust dragged another whimper from my throat, another desperate plea for more. His name spilled from my lips like a prayer, over and over again as I clung to him.

"That's it," he said, his voice dark and possessive as he leaned over me, his lips brushing against my ear. "Scream for me, Ella. Let the whole fucking world know who you belong to."

I couldn't hold back anymore. My orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train, crashing over me with a force that left me shaking and gasping for air. My cunt clenched around him, milking every last drop of pleasure from his cock as he fucked me through it.

"Fuck, Ella," he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he buried himself deep inside me one last time. I felt his cock throb as he came, hot and thick, filling me up in the most delicious way.

I collapsed against the cold tabletop, panting, my body slick with sweat.

The aftershocks of my climax still pulsed through me, leaving me dizzy with satisfaction and bone-deep exhaustion.

Dmitri's head was buried in the crook of my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my damp skin, sending little shivers down my spine.

I felt him shift, his lips grazing my sensitive earlobe. His voice, rough from our high, cut through me like a blade. "Now, tell me. "

He lifted his head just enough to pin me with those ice-blue eyes. "Ella."

My blood turned to ice. My heart stopped dead, like some invisible hand had grabbed it and squeezed.

"Who the hell are you?"