City Of Sin: A Mafia & MC Romance Collection
Page 129
But when his hand finally snaked down, rubbing the sensitive skin with his thumb pressed against my clit, I exploded into him.
My entire body started to quiver, I let out a squeal and let go of any control I had over my body. He kept rubbing and my body kept quaking until I was tired and spent. I sagged against him, breathing heavily, unable to believe what had just happened.
I vaguely remember him cutting off the first set of cable ties, but before I could remove the blindfold, he had another pair of cable ties ready. Instead of tying me to something, he simply strapped my wrists together, a sort of plastic handcuffs that totally seemed his style. My wet pussy rubbed together as I walked, already turned on again. We moved together to a couch—a black one, if I recalled the room correctly. He sat down heavily, pulling me to him. I think he meant for me to straddle him, but instead, I dropped farther, onto the floor, my knees digging into the wood.
He groaned before I even touched him, clearly overcome by the image of me, naked and tied, kneeling below him and his rock-hard erection. I heard a clink of his belt buckle, and then felt his hips lift and the material of his black pants slide down onto the floor. I leaned forward, almost drooling with want, waiting for him to direct my mouth.
At the first touch of my mouth on him, he gasped and I knew I would never forget that sound. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but I went on, using the sounds of his moans and gasps to figure out what he liked best.
I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but the smell of him and his cologne intermingled, the feel of his velvety skin against my mouth, the taste of him…. I think it turned me on even more. I had never wanted someone so badly in my entire life.
Apparently too close to the edge, he stopped me after only a few minutes, grabbing my upper arms and lifting me easily overtop of him. We both groaned when I landed on top of him, our crotches rubbing together. I felt him stop moving and I whined.
He let out a maniacal laugh. “Don’t move, Anya. Don’t. Move.”
I stilled. Was something wrong? How could it be wrong when it felt so amazing? I would gladly take this punishment a dozen times over. Hell, I’d start a new career as a shoplifter if going out for a bag of chips brought us to this. I ground against him, seeking the heated steel of his cock against me.
His entire body was tense beneath mine, his body still.
“Viktor?”
“I can’t take you like this. You’re a virgin,” he gasped as I accidentally-on-purpose wriggled forward on him. His hands gripped my arms like vices, forcing me to stop.
My head dropped down to his, my lips feeling out his until I could press kisses and licks against his heated skin. “I don’t care.”
And I didn’t. I wanted him so badly right now that I would do anything to feel him inside of me, anything to feel him lose control completely and make him come like he’d made me.
I was ready to beg.
He groaned at my acknowledgement that I didn’t care how I was taken, as long as he made me his. “Anya, it’ll hurt. You need to take it slow. We need to be gentle.”
I thought about it for a millisecond. Dismissed it. “I’ll take a little pain if the pleasure feels like this.”
I slid up and down against him, willing him to move, to take me. His hands gripped me even tight and I was satisfied to know there would definitely be bruises. “Please, Viktor.”
He groaned and I knew that I was winning this battle. I spread my hips even wider so I was poised on top of him. I vaguely thought about the picture we presented, had someone walked in the door right then. His still had on his suit jacket and white shirt. His pants were down around his ankles, his shoes still on.
Meanwhile, I was completely naked, save for a silk tie blindfold and cable tie handcuffs. I probably looked like a hooker, seducing her client. But somehow that didn’t disgust me; it just turned me on.
My legs were spread, balancing on his splayed legs. My knees were bent, my stilettos still on and hooked over his spread knees. My naked tits were in his face and he took the opportunity to suck on one of them. I cried out, dropping my head, his lips pulling at the skin until I was hot and moist.
I felt him adjust, felt the give of his body. He slid part of the way into me, met the barrier, and pushed past it.
“Forgive me, printsessa,” he groaned.
I felt a tinge of discomfort but it gave way to intense feeling and pleasure. I’d never felt anything like this. It was beyond being close physically. He was inside me, filling me up fully. I’d never felt closer to anyone in my entire life. Then a rush of pleasure slid through my body. Oh god, he needed to move.
I wriggled above him until he groaned and began to thrust in and out of me. Every time he slid in, I felt him against my clit. It was only a few thrusts before I started to feel the pressure behind my eyelids. I was going to come again, and this time, I wanted him to come with me.
I started to kiss his face, his neck, his mouth. My attention could find no focus, so overwhelmed was I by the sensation of him inside me, around me, against me. I slid against him, dragging my breasts up and down his chest until I felt him grow strained, his throat muscles tight, his jaw locked.
“Come for me, Viktor,” I whispered into his ear. He shuddered and released into me in the next breath. I craved it, needed it. I started to quake around him, felt his whispered words in my ear, telling me that I was beautiful, that I was sexy, that I had to come for him.
I didn’t take much convincing. I let out a pained cry as the coil inside me unwound once more, and I shuddered against him.
12
Viktor
I couldn’t believe that had just happened—that I had lost control so completely. I didn’t even remember making the first move, only that I needed her to understand what happened when someone bigger and stronger could overpower her. But instead, it had backfired. I’d realized that I couldn’t actually hurt or scare her.
Instead, I had shown my weakness, which turned out to be her. Even without her sexy white dress and intensely hot red heels, I still couldn’t say no to her.
She’d collapsed against me. I didn’t want to let her go, but I knew I would have to, eventually. Too soon. I slid the cable ties down her wrists and linked my hands under her butt, shifting her weight until she was lying half on top of me instead of straddling me.
Despite the pulse in my neck still thumping, her soft, warm body against mine filled me with peace and contentment. The foreignness of the feeling shocked me.
Every breath I took slid her body against mine. After only a few minutes of pulling her close to me, I felt myself start to get hard again. Abruptly, I shrugged her off me and stood up. I fished in my discarded pants for a utility knife to cut the ties.
She hissed a little when the ties pulled against her skin before dropping to the ground. As she reached up with shaking hands to remove the blindfold, I pulled up my trousers and straightened my clothes. Then I turned and looked at her, still sitting naked and demure on the couch.
“This can’t happen again,” I told her. Peace and contentment were a luxury I was afraid of having—especially with her.
She looked hurt, as I’d expected. But she did nod. Her lips parted then closed, as though she’d wanted to say something but thought better of it.
I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “I need to get back to work. Can we talk later?”
I grabbed my tie off the couch and put it around my neck. I watched her gaze as she tracked my motions, tying my tie that had just been around her eyes back around me. I wanted to smell it, hoping that it smelled like her, but with her watching didn’t want to give into the emotional urge.
“I’ll be back later,” I assured her, and then stalked out of the room. Once I was on the other side of the front door, I relaxed. My mind raced with flashes of her—naked, willing, grinding over me. All I wanted to do was go back inside and start it all over. But instead, I walked to my car, got inside, and roared away from the house, trying to drive a
ll thoughts of my beautiful captive from my head.
13
Anya
I didn’t see Viktor all night. I waited for him in between bouts of fitful sleep, but he never came in. The next morning, I had breakfast alone. Followed by lunch alone. At dinner, I was fit to be tied—and not just with plastic cables.
I was bored, irritated, and sexually frustrated.
I just wanted to talk to him, but if he didn’t come home he knew he wouldn’t have to answer any of my questions. Like why had he fucked me, and then disappeared? Did he not like it? Was he regretting it?
I felt like I was back in school, crushing on some older boy. In fact, he was more like the teacher or the principal. He was supposed to be off-limits, but it just made him hotter to me. Suddenly, I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone, or anything.
I wanted him more than my own safety. It occurred to me that Viktor was more dangerous to me than his boss, because the latter couldn’t hurt me nearly as much as Viktor was, right then, with his avoidance.
I decided to fix this myself. I wasn’t under lock and key, I was only held here because he wanted me to be. No one was going to stop me when I left.
I dressed in my prettiest, most risqué black dress with a see-through back, grabbed my highest black studded heels, put on red lipstick and curled my hair. I added a silver pendant necklace, approved the way I looked in the mirror, and headed out the front door to the only one of Viktor’s drivers who would listen to my fairy tale.
When I got in the back seat, I leaned over and told the driver to take me to Viktor. He nodded, shutting the back glass and pulled out of the driveway.
I relaxed back in the seat, waiting for the confrontation.
By the time we pulled up in front of a big glass building, my lipstick had been nervously chewed off and my hands were clammy. I went to get out, accepting the driver’s hand. When he didn’t release it immediately after I’d gotten out of the car, I looked up at him, surprised.
He was reasonably good looking, with a crew cut and friendly eyes. He leaned into me, saying quietly, “Are you being held against your will?”
Shocked, my mouth gaped. “What?”
He looked around and, apparently satisfied that we weren’t being listened to, asked again, “Are you being held against your will? Tell me the truth and I can protect you.”
I couldn’t even completely formulate a sentence. “Who… what… Are you…?”
He grabbed my purse out of the back seat. I’d forgotten it. Handing it to me, he said softly, “I can help you if you’re in trouble. I can help you, Anya.”
I shook my head slowly. “I’m not in trouble.”
He looked at me like he didn’t believe me but he let me go. “Just remember, I can help you. I don’t have to ask any questions. We’re not after you. We’re after Viktor and his sector of the Russian mafia as a whole. He’s a RICO case waiting to explode.”
We? RICO?
I couldn’t say anything else, just stumbled away, walking into the lobby of the gleaming glass office tower. I told the receptionist at the front desk that I was looking for Viktor and she walked me to an impressive bank of elevators, pressing the twentieth floor button.
When the bell dinged, I walked out of the doors and into a beautiful office suite filled with granite tops and black sleek desks. At the biggest desk in the corner office, there sat Viktor. My breath caught with how handsome he was, sitting there in his wrinkled suit. He’d clearly not been home, not done anything besides shower in his gorgeous office.
He saw me walk up. I saw the flash of surprise, then fear in his eyes. He stood, letting the chair roll back unattended. “Anya? What’s wrong?”
I walked up to him, brushing his arm with my hand. “Viktor, everything is basically fine. I mean, mostly. I just want to fix this between us.”
His entire body relaxed, his breath flowing out with a whoosh. “Then why are you here?”
I shrugged. “I needed to see you, and you weren’t coming home anytime soon apparently.”
“You’re not supposed to go out.” He lifted my chin with his fingers, giving me a hard look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were asking for trouble.”
Yes, please. But I merely asked him, “Are we fighting?”
He chuckled. “We’re not fighting, Anya. I’m just busy.”
“You’re not busy. You’re avoiding me, avoiding home.” I propped my hip on the corner of this desk, enjoying the way his eyes draped over me, heating up. “We need to talk.”
“What do we need to talk about?” he asked, walking towards me.
“Nothing specific,” I admitted. “Although, something just happened…”
Viktor grabbed my arm, feeling my skin. I shivered. How could his touch affect me so? He looked deeply in my eyes. “What, what happened?” He frowned. “Who brought you here?”
I took a deep breath, but the words didn’t come out.
Suddenly, I realized what the mystery man had just offered me. A fresh start. Protection from the mafia. Protection from Viktor. If Viktor was involved in a federal RICO case, I knew what that meant. They would pay me for intelligence, offer me protection and likely security in the witness protection program. They would take anything I would give them.
Viktor was waiting on my answer but I didn’t know what answer I wanted to give him. Not yet at least. I didn’t want to give up my way out until I was certain that Viktor was who he said, and to figure out exactly where we were.
After all, I was married to a stranger.
“Never mind. It was just…I almost left my purse in the car on the way here. Can you imagine? That’d be terrible!” I lied through my teeth, hoping that Viktor wouldn’t recognize the fact that I was a terrible liar, who flushed instantly when it passed through my lips.
“Yes, I can’t imagine anything worse than that,” he agreed, smiling idly. When his eyes dropped down my body, other parts of my body began to heat up. “Anya…”
“What?” I asked innocently, dragging my fingertips down his arm to his hand. I intertwined my fingers through his.
“I’m at work. We can’t do this. We can’t do this anywhere, much less at work. Come on, I’ll take you home,” he offered, allowing our fingertips to stay wrapped around each other.
I tried to brush off the feeling of disappointment. He was a busy man. I knew this. Why had I dressed up and tried to seduce him at work? Well, technically seduction had been second in my mind. First had been to yell at him for leaving me at home like an elderly grandparent.
He gathered up his things and headed towards the elevator, looking back at me. “Well, are you coming?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Patient, he was not. “Yes, I’m coming.”
He held out his hand, and I forgave him for being so pushy. That and the fact that he looked so good in his day-old shirt.
We got into the elevator. He pushed the button to take us down. As soon as the elevator started to move, I began to inch closer to him under the guise of fixing my shoes. There wasn’t much to adjust but he didn’t seem to mind it. I stepped out of each one and back into them, noticing that his posture and breathing had altered.
Oh yes, he was definitely affected. He could act like my outfit wasn’t turning him on, but I could see by the bulge in his dress pants that it was. I smiled a secretive smile, enjoying the turning of the tables.
14
Viktor
She was going to be the death of me. Not only had she sauntered into my office like she owned the damn place, but now here she was. Smelling up the elevator with her fruity scent. Teasing me by adjusting the mile-high black studded shoes she was wearing.
Did the silly woman not own a sensible pair of flats or tennis shoes? She seemed to live in heels lately, and while I enjoyed the curve of her ass when she wore them, it was impossible to treat her like a weak thing that needed protecting when all I wanted to do was wrap those long legs around my waist, shoes intact on those tiny Cind
erella feet of hers.
She kept shifting, pushing closer to me. I looked down and nearly groaned. From this angle, I could see down her sleek dress into the vee of her cleavage and the swell of her breasts, which looked tantalizing enough to eat. In fact, my mouth watered just thinking about it. I wanted it. I wanted her. Again. The only thing that was stopping me was the fact that we were in an elevator, and while I had showered at work I hadn’t brought in a change of clothes. I wasn’t a fastidious man, but I preferred not to be wearing the same clothes that I had been wearing yesterday when I slept with her again.
Dammit. I needed to stop thinking like that. We should not sleep together again. Not ever. She was invading my thoughts. I needed space. I needed to treat her like an object.
If only she’d stop leaning against me that way, pushing the globes of her breasts against my shoulder, leaning into me as she fussed with her shoes. Swearing, I gave in to temptation. I could only be expected to be in control for so long around someone as beautiful and tempting as Anya.
I pivoted, grabbing her around the waist and balancing her back against the stainless steel walls of the elevator. I pushed up her skirt, moaning at the sensation of the smooth, soft skin that I’d just revealed. I wrapped her legs around me, her ankles hooking. In the reflective panels of the elevator, I saw the back of us – I saw my once-crisp suit now wrinkled, her head leaned back against the cool surface, and her ridiculous stripper heels locked just above my ass.
We looked like a high-end client and an escort, and something about that image just turned me on further. I leaned down and pressed my mouth against hers, biting her lower lip until it was plump and red. She moaned, pushing her fingers through my hair, rubbing against the thin layer of my facial hair. I sucked on her lips, her neck, the tops of her breasts. My cock pressed against the thin barrier of her lacy underwear and it was everything I could do not to free myself and enter her right there, in this elevator. Suddenly a ding went off indicating that the doors were going to open.