Torrid

by Nikki Sloane

  What a surprise. She said nothing.

  She yelped with my next one, and tried to squirm away from both the pain and my hand holding her down on the couch.

  I raised my voice, letting it fill the room. “Either tell me to stop . . . or tell me you like it.”

  “Vasilije,” she whined.

  Her soft-spoken word was more powerful than the demand I’d yelled at her, and suddenly I was on my knees behind her, my mouth latched onto her pussy. Her moan was as much surprise as it was bliss. I stuck my tongue inside and fucked her as her legs quivered. She reached a hand back and ran her nails through my hair, scraping at my scalp and holding me to her.

  “I like it,” she gasped. “Oh, God, I like it.”

  A half of a chuckle came out of me. Of course she did now, but the good news was . . . “Me, too.”

  I put my hands on her abused ass and lifted, pulling her cheeks away so I had more room. I fluttered and sucked at her clit while I squeezed so hard on her ass, the skin dented around my fingertips. But the moans that rolled out of her were pure pleasure.

  I paused so I could speak. “Reach back and put your hands like mine.”

  She did, and I grabbed her wrists, pulling them so she’d hold herself open for me. Then, I shifted on my knees and got more comfortable. I settled in to reward her, and got rewarded myself as she murmured something in Russian. No idea what she said, but it sounded dirty.

  Since I had my hands free, I put my thumb on the hood of her clit and pulled it back, and spun the tip of my tongue over the sensitive spot. Her shudders were fucking sexy. She writhed against both the couch and my mouth, like the pleasure I gave her was almost too intense to take. She could, though, and she would. Her heels tapped quietly on the wood floor as she shook uncontrollably.

  “Nyet,” she cried when I licked a straight line up, right between her cheeks.

  My cock jerked in my pants. Her hurried ‘no’ hadn’t sounded like an order to stop, it’d been gasped in shock. And I’d told her I’d stop if she asked me to, but I hadn’t said shit about doing it if she said it in Russian.

  25

  I started at the base of Oksana’s pussy and ran my tongue up again, all the way over her asshole. She whined in her native language on a stuttering breath. Was my dirty action so shocking she’d forgotten English?

  Her hands came off her ass, but I was ready for that. I pulled her apart and swirled my tongue where she was still a virgin, and her choked moan got my heart banging in my chest. It sent my head buzzing with lust, and her body betrayed her. “You like it,” I said, half teasing, half serious. She liked it even if she didn’t want to.

  Did she feel the same way about me?

  The unexpected thought shot through my brain. Why did I care if she liked me? She wasn’t, and never would be, a friend. This was about sex, and once I got bored, I’d send her away.

  How’d that plan work out for Luka?

  Shit. I climbed to my feet and stared down at the girl bent over the couch, letting my gaze trace the zipper on her dress that mimicked her spine. She remained in that awkward position, not moving other than her exaggerated breathing. She didn’t complain that I’d stopped before I’d made her come. She waited patiently for my next command.

  My voice was rough as gravel. “Get on the couch, on your hands and knees.”

  She straightened and the dress dropped down in place, hiding her pink-stained ass. Her heels clip-clopped hurriedly, and the leather squealed when she placed her knees on the cushions. She moved gracefully, planting her hands on the seat of the couch so she was on all fours, and tipped her head up to me, watching for my approval.

  I dug my cock out of my pants so fast, I almost broke the zipper. Two pumps and I was as rigid as the column I’d pressed her up against. I grabbed the back of the dress and jerked it up to hang off her hips. “I want to look at that cherry red ass you’ve got as you suck me off.”

  I stood at the side of the couch and held my dick steady for her. She didn’t need a fucking invitation, she knew what to do. Her warm, wet mouth closed around me and heat seared up my back. Her glossy pink lips moved along my length, and I let her take over, pushing my pants and underwear down until they fell in a heap at my ankles.

  Her mouth was like fucking a volcano, and I thrust at her, wanting more. In retaliation, she brought her hand up and wrapped her fist around me. It blocked me from going too deep. She thought she was in control, huh? I pulled her hand away, gripping her wrist, and placed my palm on the back of her head. I thrust my hips into her mouth as I pushed her head toward my body, and it made Oksana gag. She coughed and sputtered as I retreated.

  I’d already gotten head from her once today, and it was fucking spectacular, but . . . enough. I wanted her cunt. I shuffled backward. I toed off my shoes, kicked off my pants, and tugged off my socks, leaving me naked. If she stood right now, she’d be dressed. I didn’t give a fuck for once, probably because I was too focused on my destination.

  I put my hands flat on her back and shoved, getting her to collapse forward on her belly, and she let out a burst of air as she hit the leather.

  “Hands behind your back.” I straddled the back of her thighs and dropped my hard cock right on her ass. It looked good up against her pink skin. She did as told and crossed her wrists. Her head turned so she had one cheek flat against the cushion, and she watched me out of the corner of her eye.

  I spit loudly in my palm and used it to lube my dick up. It was probably overkill since her pussy was drenched when I went down on her, but better safe than sorry. I wanted to slide deep inside. I’d promised her I wasn’t going to hold back, and last night was as close to gentle fucking as I got. She’d get a good look at the real me now.

  She tensed as I stroked the tip of my cock up and down between her legs, and it swam in her wetness. Did she have any idea how excited and crazy she made me? No other girl put up with my rough shit, let alone enjoyed it. I couldn’t wait another goddamn second. I clenched a hand around her wrists, lined myself up, and drove so deep into her pussy, she cried out.

  Waves of warmth hugged me. Her tight body gripped at my dick, maybe trying to force me back out, but forget it. Jesus Christ, it felt so good, maybe I’d never leave. Not unless she asked me to, which she still hadn’t done. She didn’t say no, or nyet, or demand I stop. I curled my free hand on her shoulder and delivered my first thrust.

  She exhaled loudly, and her hands tightened into fists.

  My second thrust was harder and deeper, and she groaned. The low, guttural sound was fucking hot. My third thrust made her bounce on the cushions, and I held her steady with my grip on her shoulder, making it so her body wouldn’t recoil off me.

  As I began to pound into her, the grunts shifted to moans, and it was the signal I needed to go all-out. I let go of her shoulder and dug my fingers into her hair, grabbing strands and pins, and jerked her back toward me. Her back arched. It had to hurt, but she’d never say it.

  “You’re so good to me, baby. You let me fuck you exactly how I want to.” I slammed my body into hers, so deep it crushed my balls against her clit. Wait, shit. I struggled to put distance between what I’d just said, and my tone went brutal. “I own you, Oksana. You’re my motherfucking property. You got that?”

  She panted, either through the pain or the pleasure. Couldn’t tell, but it was getting hard to focus. Thoughts broke down in my brain. All I wanted to do was fuck like a savage and come. I’d make it so any man who came after me wouldn’t be inside her the same way. No one else would compare.

  “Say it,” I ordered.

  She parroted it back without hesitation. “I’m your motherfucking property.”

  Pleasure coursed through me, filling the room until I was panting right along with her. I was getting sweaty from the exertion, but mostly from the dark creature writhing beneath my hands. She moved with the rhythm of my body, so as I plunged into her, she was there to meet me. Fucking hell. It was insane, and once again, I wasn’t goin
g to last long. I’d wanted her too much all day.

  At least tomorrow was Thanksgiving and I didn’t have to work. I planned to fuck her until my cock gave out.

  She moaned, and it sounded faintly like pleasure. It felt good for her, and I . . . liked that. I slid as far in as I could go, until I was pressed all against her, and ground my body, rubbing her clit.

  “Oh.” Her word was surprised.

  It gave me a white-hot flash of satisfaction. Not just with how good it physically felt, but knowing it was pleasurable for her. “That’s my dick that’s making you moan.” I’d do everything I could tonight so my cock made her come.

  I released my grip, both her hands and hair, and she flopped forward. She clutched at the couch as I rammed into her, and the impact made her slide away. Her hands flew out to brace herself on the armrest, so I could keep fucking her deep.

  I grabbed onto her ass, squeezing as I watched my cock disappear inside her. It was slick. Once it started feeling good for her, Oksana got wetter. I peeled her ass cheeks apart so I could see better, and I did it so hard, she probably felt like I was going to rip her in two. She whimpered. Pain mingled with pleasure.

  Fuck her until she comes.

  The muscles in my thighs were warm and tight. Any position during sex eventually got exhausting if you did it too long. I wouldn’t be able to maintain this one forever, even though it was sexy as fuck and felt amazing.

  “You come, and then I come,” I said in a rush. “Okay? You come, then me.”

  Her pussy clenched tight around me. Her gasps for breath increased in intensity. Yes. She was getting close. I picked up my tempo, leaning back so more of my body would strike her clit with my thrusts.

  I tried to soften my voice and pull it from her. “Tell me. Are you going to come? Are you gonna come for me?”

  She moaned something I couldn’t make it out, but it sounded positive. Her cries swelled. Her body locked up. Fuck me, she was about to go off. I gripped her ass like it was the only thing keeping me attached to the world as I fucked her, slamming into her over and over again.

  “Are you coming?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. I could feel the pleasure detonate inside her. “Oh, fuck, that’s a good girl. Fuck, it feels so good.” I pumped all through it, watching her writhe and squirm as she shattered. She rode it out, moans pouring from her slack mouth, and I felt more powerful than I ever had. Even as she began to recover, I kept my punishing tempo, hanging right at the edge myself. “Whose turn is it now?” I asked between ragged breaths. “Tell me. Whose turn is it?”

  “Oh, God, it’s yours.”

  Fuck right, it was. I came, surging into her with heat and ecstasy so great, my mind went blank. It unloaded into me like automatic fire, each bullet striking me with stinging pleasure until the magazine was spent and I collapsed on top of her.

  “Goddamn fucking shit,” I groaned into the nape of her neck, and then kissed her there. My offline mind couldn’t process what was happening as my lips moved over her ear, and her cheekbone, seeking her mouth. When I found it, everything in me that wouldn’t like this went dark and shut down. My tongue stroked against hers, our lips moved together, and as our heavy breathing began to fall, we both murmured with contentment.

  Sergey said Oksana had me by the short hairs, and it was probably a little true, but in this quiet, slow moment, I didn’t fucking care. It didn’t matter who actually owned who between us.

  My phone rang, jarring me.

  It rang again. Who the fuck was disturbing me with a call and not a text?

  I lifted my head and glared at my wadded pants on the floor. Uncle Goran, probably. He preferred speaking instead of sending texts, which left a word-for-word record. And if it was my uncle, I had to answer it. I groaned, climbed off Oksana, and snatched up my pants.

  It wasn’t my uncle. It was the private investigator I’d hired two months ago, and I hit the ‘accept’ button as quickly as I could.

  “What do you have?” I said as a greeting.

  “An address.”

  A thrill cracked through me. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” my PI said. “And it’s in the northwest suburbs. If you’re going to move on this, you’ll need to do it sooner rather than later. He’s moving to Florida for the winter.”

  Soon wasn’t going to be a problem. I’d been waiting more than a year for this. Every day since the morning in the basement where I’d taken my father’s life. “Where is he?”

  26

  Oksana

  Everything hurt and burned, but it also felt . . . weird. Not unpleasant. My head was a mess.

  Vasilije pulled on his pants while he continued his phone call and rose from the couch, striding quickly toward the office and abandoning me. The quiet, tender kiss we’d just shared was clearly forgotten.

  His voice was hushed in the other room. I could hear he was speaking, but not make out the words. Was I supposed to stay like this, lying face-down on the couch? He’d climaxed inside of me and I could feel it dripping out, so I needed to get up, but I also ached from how rough he’d been.

  I moved slowly, grimacing as I got off the couch, and an angry voice boomed in my head. Why did you let him treat you like that? I wanted to ignore it, not because I didn’t have an answer, but because the truth was terrifying.

  I could say I was just doing my job.

  Or I could argue since I’d taken a life, and I planned to take another, I deserved whatever Vasilije gave me. But the reality was so much worse. I enjoyed what was supposed to be punishment. His dominance was scary and too much, but it made me feel alive. His control was . . . freedom.

  I cleaned up in the half-bath and pulled the pins out of my hair, raking my fingers through the curly mess to get it to lay so it didn’t look quite so ridiculous. When I came out, I glanced down the long hallway and sucked in a breath.

  He was off the phone. He stood shirtless in the darkened office, his hands resting on his hips and his head tipped down, looking like he was deep in thought. Light from the arched window nearby played over his lean, sculpted form. He was violently beautiful.

  Had he sensed my eyes on him? His head lifted and our gazes met. I couldn’t interpret his expression. The closest word I could use to describe it was ‘conflicted.’ His focus swept down my body, and then back up again, moving more deliberate this time.

  “Come here,” he said.

  The world tilted on an angle at his quiet request, and it made it difficult to walk down the hallway on heels to meet him at the base of the stairs.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered.

  He blinked. “I’m fine.” His eyebrows pulled together. “Are you? I was . . .” His tone was uneven and he held up a hand like he might pull the word he was looking for out of thin air. Instead, his hand dropped abruptly. “Rough.”

  I licked my lips, trying to keep my mouth from going dry. Maybe I’d been wrong about him. Perhaps the devil did have feelings, because this reaction seemed like concern. He was thinking about someone other than himself. He was worried about me. My knees softened and my lackluster heart tripped over itself. “You didn’t do anything I couldn’t handle.”

  I was pulled into his embrace, and my body sang a beautiful melody of ache. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this until his strong arms were circled around me.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his strict tone forced. Like he was using it to disguise his worry. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” I lied. It’d been true until this moment, and now I was falling apart, not understanding the cause.

  “You’re shaking.”

  I was. A tremor rocked my foundation. “I don’t know why.”

  His black eyes grew deeper. “Sit down.”

  He urged me onto the steps, and as I leaned back, I cupped his cheek and pulled him with me. Did he think I was crazy for wanting him close, especially after what he’d just done, and how I was acting like I was terrified? I was seated with my back a
gainst the stair treads, and Vasilije knelt between my parted legs. He supported himself on his fists, hovering over me.

  He was too far away. I snaked my arms around his back and dragged him the rest of the way down, clinging to him as our bodies flattened together. I’d never felt so fucking needy in my life. I gripped him tighter and tighter, until I was sure there was no more space between us.

  His head was buried in the side of my neck, and as he tolerated my ferocious hold, his breathing went shallow. I expected him to push off me at any moment, or for him to make a shitty comment, but he didn’t. Vasilije crouched over me on the steps and allowed my embrace. He wedged his arm beneath my back and between two steps, holding me as much as I was him.

  We stayed like that for a long time.

  All the way until the tremble faded from my body, and my arms softened around his shoulders. I felt less shattered, and more like myself as the strange, unwanted emotions drained away.

  “Who were you talking to?” It came out soft, but I was stunned at how steady my voice was.

  There was a long pause before his lips moved against the side of my throat. “Someone I hired to track down a guy.”

  “What guy?”

  Vasilije lifted his head, just enough so I could get a look at his intense expression. “A man I need to kill.”

  My mouth rounded into a wordless “oh,” as if that were enough information.

  “The night my mom died . . .” He sighed. “My dad believed my mom was cheating on him. It’s why she came home to find him with his dick inside another woman. He wanted to get caught. It was revenge.” Vasilije’s expression clouded like an approaching storm. “Except the whole story about her cheating was made up by my uncle’s bodyguard.”

  It took me a moment to process. “Why would he—”

  “Uncle Goran didn’t like my mother, and he trusted her even less. He planned the thing to drive my parents apart, and it worked like a fucking charm. My dad didn’t know the truth until right before I killed him.”