“Well, no. I had to keep seeing him at work. Though...”
Now I have her full attention. Joanna turns and looks at me curiously.
“Well, it’s just... before we got the call, we were in my office and...”
“And... oh my God, you were making out in your office?”
My cheeks are burning with embarrassment. I’ve never really had another girlfriend to talk about sex stuff with. Not that there had been any sex stuff to tell before now. I’ve been too busy focusing on just staying above level to date, not that I had a lot of interest in it anyways.
“Holy fuck. You guys screwed?”
I sputter, shaking my head, my face hidden from her.
“We... No. I mean, almost, but then the call came...”
“Awkward,” she said with a half-smile. “Talk about a massive cock-block.”
I throw a pillow at her, hitting her in the side of her head, “Joanna! Your mouth is getting filthier by the minute.”
She throws it back at me, threatening to knock over my popcorn before I catch it just in time.
“Yea, well, you’re the one screwing your step-bro, so I’m hardly the dirtiest one here,” she teases back, her words so light and lacking in judgement. It’s a relief to talk about it, to hear it said so plainly, and I lick my lower lip, drawing it into my mouth.
“So you think he’d like if I just dropped over?”
“Hell yea. Damn, if my mom died, I’d be desperate for a distraction. Especially if I were a guy. It’s not easy dealing with that, especially by yourself, you know?”
I nod, taking a deep breath.
“You don’t mind if I go?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Get out of here. You don’t need my permission to sleep with him. Just be careful.”
13
I know that if I show up again and don’t go through with it that things are going to get bad between us. Especially now that he knows that Rebecca was spying on him and I was helping her. I have no idea how much he knows about it, but it seems like more than enough to be justifiably upset.
I sit on the subway, watching the lights of the city flicker past, anxiety swirling in my stomach. It doesn’t help that Joanna lent me this sexy black dress that I feel like I have no business in. I know I look pretty good in it, and it shows off my cleavage, but it still somehow feels weird.
No, what feels weird is that you’re going to your step-brother’s house in the middle of the night to try to seduce him. Again.
I try to shake off the thought but I know that’s at the core of what’s bugging me. But I can’t get the thought of his body out of my mind. The way his mouth burned into mine, the hickey he gave me that I had to covertly hide for the funeral. It’s like it’s all out of some strange nightmare, yet I can’t wake up.
I don’t want to. Not before I know what he feels like, covering my body.
The memory sends a jolt through my spine and when we finally get to the stop near his place, I practically sprint off the train. My high heels make my strides shorter, my legs longer and shapelier, and I tug my jacket around me a bit tighter. I know what I’m wearing beneath it is scandalous, but the people of Brooklyn don’t need to know that.
The beautiful exterior of his condo looms over me and I push in. This time I’m expecting the security guard, and my back straightens, my chin lifted just a little.
“Sarah Fairfax for room 1510, please. Mr. Brokov.”
The security guard nods, calls up, and hesitates on the phone. What’s Dimitri saying? If he’s refusing me entry, I would be so humiliated, and some of my confidence leaves me.
The security guard covers the receiver with his palm and I move closer.
“Mr. Brokov wants to know if this is about his Uncle.”
That jerk. I flush, my heart pounding faster in my chest at the reminder of our safeword, of what I’d said last time when I’d run off, away from him.
“No,” I mutter. I wanted to sound more suave, more in control, but as always, Dimitri keeps me off guard and always has the upper hand.
“Yes, Sir,” the security guard says before hanging up the phone. “Come with me, Ms. Fairfax,” he says, moving towards the elevators. At least Dimitri’s letting me up.
Though now I’m almost positive I shouldn’t be here.
The fifteen floors pass even slower than they did last time, and by the time I enter the beautifully decorated hallway, I feel faint from the blood rushing from my brain. Every time he torments me and I simply get more and more turned on. I have to feel him. I have to just let go.
One night of pleasure, of letting myself experience something I’ve wanted for so long.
The walk to his door is excruciating, especially when I open the door and see his wicked grin. He’s wearing a shirt and jeans, so I guess he hasn’t been to bed yet.
I swat his shoulder. “Jackass,” I murmur, and he locks the door behind me.
“You love it,” he says, leading me in and pausing at the bar before thinking better of it. “Can’t sleep?”
I shake my head, my coat still wrapped tightly around my torso. Though when I see his eyes trail down my body, lingering on my calves, I know he’s confused.
“Going to a bar or something?”
“Not that I could even if I wanted to.”
He rolls his eyes. “Girls a lot younger than twenty get into clubs here, Sarah.”
“Oh, right.” Of course they do. Other girls who are refined and sexy and confident enough to flirt their way in. Not girls like me.
He leans against the bar, staring at me, waiting for me to explain why I’m here but I don’t really have words. I thought it’d go differently, like we’d just pick up from where we left off, but that was over a week ago, and so much has happened since then.
I step towards him, my hands trembling as I slowly let the coat fall open, revealing the black dress beneath. I felt so sexy getting into it, but now I’m just a shy, self-conscious mess.
“You said, last time, that... bad things happen if you have a booty call and don’t...” I trail off. I sound so stupid, like a kid pretending she’s a seductress.
Though when my gaze meets his, his eyes are filled with fire and temptation.
He pushes himself from the bar, licking along his lower lip. He stalks towards me, and the warmth from his grin has warped into something much more dangerous.
“Is that what you want?”
My heart races. My lower lip quivers.
I nod, and heat boils in my veins as his mouth crushes against mine. There’s no sweetness, no exploration, just a hunger unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Not from him, not from myself. When our bodies meet, it’s with a fury that’s been contained for years.
He lifts me, hands gripping my ass as he takes me to his room, tossing me onto the bed like I weigh nothing. His breathing is hard as he stares down at me before he tugs up his t-shirt over his head, unveiling his muscles and tattoos once more.
The light is dim, but my eyes still race excitedly over them as his hands next go to work on his belt. The jangle of metal and leather fill the air as he steps towards me.
“You’re not getting away this time,” he swears, and I’m filled with a sense of dread and desire.
He’s dangerous. I know that better than most. That fire in his eyes is going to burn us both before long, but I don’t care. Not now.
He grabs for my waist over my coat, and I lean in to kiss him, but instead he steals the fabric belt from my jacket. I blink, surprised, but his hand is on my knee, caressing it, and I relax into his touch.
“I’m not going to let you run. You want this too fucking bad for me to believe you when you say that escape is what you want.”
He wraps the belt around his hand before tying it around my bare ankle.
“Are you wearing panties?” he asks, and I can’t even respond.
I’m breathing too fast, too hard, and I’m trying to remain sensible but it’s no use. I’m a
slave to my needs, and I shake my head no.
That earns a feral growl and a brief glance up my thighs, as if he could see even though they’re still pressed together so tightly. He yanks them apart harshly, tying my right leg to the solid wood of the bed post.
“You’re not getting away,” he promises, and when I feel that first press of his mouth against the inner side of my knee, I can’t imagine why I’d want to be anywhere else.
His mouth is so warm, and it’s traveling up, his light stubble tickling along my sensitive inner thigh.
It’s not what I expected when I came over, but as his mouth gets nearer and nearer my pussy, I’m filled with an electric shock that trails through all of my nerve endings. His tongue teases out, tasting my thigh as his eyes watch me all the while.
I’m so warm, my heart pounding so fast and my breathing so hard that I’m nearly hyperventilating. But when his mouth finally grazes against my sex, it’s like the entire world just stops. My breathing, my racing thoughts, my fears and inhibitions are all drowned out by the immense pleasure at having his mouth against me.
I moan, and his hard hand pins my thigh back, lifting my calf up over his shoulder. My dress is rolled up around my hips, my jacket half off, my blonde hair fanned beneath my arched head.
“Dimitri,” I whisper, and he pushes in harder, his tongue caressing along the seam of my pussy, tasting me. Maybe I should be embarrassed or afraid, but I’m not. Instead, it’s almost like relief washing through me. Relief that the world didn’t end just because I want this more than anything and am finally getting it.
My fist wraps around the soft blankets, holding onto it as he starts licking me more hungrily, a growl passing through his mouth and into my sensitive flesh. I’m already so embarrassingly wet but he seems to love it, his entire body moving as he eats me out.
My skin prickles with excitement, warmth flooding me as his tongue lashes against my clit and then retreats, teasing me to higher and higher points of ecstasy with each motion. His mouth is delicious, and my head rocks back.
“Ah,” I gasp, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. He doesn’t let up, even though I’m already squirming like crazy, the sensations building so fast that I can barely do anything more than pant and writhe. He growls and I try to calm down, but I can’t. He’s just too good, feels too good, and I’m too sensitive for it.
And then he pulls away, just slightly, and I’m left at the peak of no return, anger and desire making my blood boil hotter. I’m like a volcano about to erupt and it’s not comfortable being so close to the peak with no release.
“Dimitri?”
His grin told me that I was going to love and hate the next words out of his mouth. His lower jaw shone with my juices, and I feel like I should be embarrassed but I’m not. I’m more curious about what he’ll feel like inside me.
His hand moves, the rough pad finding my clit, rubbing against the wetness there as he looks at me.
“I’m not going to make you come and let you leave again, Sarah,” he says.
I tug my leg, the one that’s bound to his bed, and it makes a little springy sound. “I can’t run,” I remind him.
His free hand goes to his jeans button, pushing it through as he simply presses against my clit with his thumb. He’s not moving, not teasing me, not bringing me any closer to release. Just keeping me on the edge.
“I don’t want to risk it,” he says, and then he takes out his cock and everything he’s said in the seconds prior is momentarily forgotten.
I don’t want to be crass, I really don’t, but I love his cock. Ever since I first glanced a peek at him changing I’ve been dreaming of it. Of what it’d feel like.
He strokes it, watching me as I stare at it, and his grin widens.
“You’ve always been too afraid to lose it to this dick, haven’t you?” he growls, and when I nod, he rubs my pussy a little bit more. Stoking those fires just a bit higher.
“You’ve wanted it for so fucking long. And tonight, you’re finally going to get it. And I’m not going to let you go until I show you what I can really do.”
My eyelashes flutter and I moan in spite of myself, my nipples stiffening against the dress to the point that they almost hurt. He strokes himself and my pussy in unison, teasing me. He wants me begging for it, but my mind is mush.
Grasping his cock at the base, he smacks his dick against my slit, and I’m so lewdly aroused it makes a crass wet sound. The grin on his face says he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t let up on his teasing. His attempts to make me cave to him.
“You’ve played with fire too long,” he taunts me, still circling his thumb about my clit, bringing me to the edge of oblivion but always, always, pulling back before I find my bliss.
I want it — him — so bad, but it still feels wrong. Every young woman thinks about how she’s going to lose her virginity, and I’m way out of my depths with him.
So why does that excite me so much? Why does his crassness make me squirm rather than making me want to run? I’ve ran every other time, but now it feels right in a weird way. Like the stars have aligned. Or maybe it’s just that with me tied to the bed I feel without options. That to call it all off from here would be too much, too hard.
My eyes roll back and I want to curse him out, but instead I reach out, trying to brush my fingers against his stiffness.
I catch a brief touch of that thick pillar of his, the molten steel of his manhood against my fingertips. It’s smooth and ribbed with his bulging veins, and oh so hot to the touch, but it’s a fleeting moment, because Dimitri brushes me off immediately.
“Nyet,” he says, his voice husky, low and taunting. “Not for you,” and I can hear the accent rising out in his words as he replaces his teasing thumb with the thick, purple tip of his cock. “Not unless you beg,” he adds, looking at me with a devilish light in his eyes.
And for a moment he’s of two worlds right before me. To look at him, I see the man I’ve crushed on for years, teasing and grinning. But that wickedness and authority in his grin and gaze reminds me of the darkness within.
Of the desires I’ve tried to forget I even have. The ones that wake me in the dark of night, panting and longing for him with such depravity.
I bite down on my lower lip. I can’t beg. The very thought makes my skin warm and I can tell I’m blushing as the butterflies in my stomach pick up their tempo. I haven’t thought this through very well; I know that, but my desperate need for him...
I’ve been teasing myself just as much as I’ve been teasing him, and maybe it’s a lapse in sanity as I open my mouth and the softest, “Please,” I’ve ever spoken comes out from between my lips.
The slow circles of his thick, dark crown continue unabated, teasing me so masterfully as he watches me, soaks me all in.
“Please what?” he asks me, his voice so dark and ominous, so dangerous. And I know he’s not going to be satisfied with something quite so meek as that. He has me trapped, under his control, and he’s not going to stop so easily.
And both seeing and hearing him sound so dangerous… it makes him all the harder to resist. My mind is hardly in any position to notice his own broad, muscular chest heaving with his elevated breathing, his excitement for me so high it did more to him than a vigorous workout.
I have to look away from him. The dark shadows make his eyes seem even darker, and his lips are twisted in enjoyment. He likes watching me squirm, and I know it.
If I’m being honest, part of me likes how he makes me squirm. How I know this is wrong and yet I want it anyways. I swallow, and my voice is soft and wispy, contrasting against his intimidating growl.
“I want you, Dimitri,” I manage, my breathing so much harder, the black dress feeling too tight around my chest. “I want to give it to you.”
My words do a number on him, because Dimitri’s feral eyes widen, and that devious glint becomes one of pure lust instead. The real proof came in the form of his cock.
He guides that thick, throbbing member down from my clit and forces it into my pussy. He’s not a complete savage about it, but he splits my pink folds open around his shaft as he sinks on down into me.
He doesn’t need to be mean about it for it to hurt though; it’s my first time and he’s oh so big. That thick shaft much harder to squeeze in then I had even imagined it would be.
The last thing I want is Dimitri thinking I’m a wimp, but I can’t help the pained gasp that escapes me. He slows down, his head tilting, and for a second I wonder if he’s waiting to see if I’ll cry uncle but I don’t. I can’t.
Not now.
I bite down on my lower lip and nod at him, and he’s slower this time and my juices help a little bit as he presses himself into me.
Dimitri gasps and moans, taking a grasp on my thighs as he edges himself into me, bit by bit, stopping now and then as my squirming takes over against my will. I can feel every throb of his arousal, and the way it stretches my pussy nearly beyond the point of bearing.
“Fuck Sarah,” he says in a husky, breathless voice. “You weren’t kiddin’... you really did save it all this time,” he says, looking me over, as if even he didn’t believe it. The man who could see through my every attempt to lie or mislead. “You’re so fucking tight.”
The fact that I made him drop his arrogance for just a few seconds thrills me, and I shift to get into a better position. My legs are spread so obscenely wide it looks almost painful, and between them is him, all tattooed and hulking, pinning me against his body.
I shudder at the sight and my eyes roll up in my head. He looks like an Adonis. A tattooed Greek sculpture. I can barely believe my eyes, let alone the way his cock is making my mind swim.
He grasps my thigh with one hand, while the other rough, strong grasp makes its way up my body. He feels out my figure, over my dress, along my chest, squeezes my breasts as he edges into me a bit more, making us both moan.
“Bozhe moi Sarah,” he curses in Russian before leaning down and aggressively kissing my lips, a hard, primal kiss where his tongue delves into my mouth while he nudges the last of his length into my depths with a final thrust.
Captive of the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Novel Page 22
