Lib Novel Page 71
My body goes still. I never wanted her to feel that way. I just . . . wanted to make her like me. To make her want to stay.
“That wasn’t my intention. And I apologize if it came across that way.” I look up, meeting those dark pearlescent eyes. “But I would really like to see that necklace on you.”
“And why is this one so goddamned important? You didn’t have issues with me returning the other things to you.”
“Unlike my previous gifts, I had no reason for buying it other than wanting you to wear it.”
“What other reason could there possibly be?”
“To make you like me.”
“Expensive trinkets will never make me like the man who threatens to kill my family if I won’t dance to his tune.”
“That’s unfortunate.” I snake my hands through the slit of her skirt and grab her butt cheeks, pulling her flush against me. “You like my cock well enough, though.” Lifting her, I carry her into the room and deposit her sweet peach of an ass on the antique dresser. This girl. She fucking slays me. I lean forward, letting our noses touch. “Don’t you, Vasilisa?”
“You have a high opinion of yourself. It’s amazing.” She sneers through her teeth, then . . . mewls as I slide my hands under her panties.
I press my thumb to her clit, rubbing it in slow, tight circles. For a few breaths, I just soak up her soft moans, then hook my fingers on the flimsy string.
“Should I remind you of how your body trembles while I eat your pussy? Or how you beg me for more every night? Lift your gorgeous ass, baby.” She might be glaring at me with disdain, but she does as I ask. I slide the lacy thong down her legs and undo the button on my pants. “Or, maybe, I should help you recall your elated screams as I fuck you senseless?”
“Just normal physical reactions. Nothing more.”
“I’ve missed you talking back to me. It turns me on so fucking much.” I grab her hips and bury myself halfway inside her.
Vasilisa gasps and wraps her hands around the back of my neck, tunneling her fingers into my hair. Soft, quiet breaths leave her slightly parted lips as I rock my pelvis, urging my cock deeper. My cut side is screaming in pain, every forward motion tearing at the binding. It would have been easier if I drove into her tight little pussy in one go, but I’m afraid I’d hurt her.
I have fucking nightmares that I’ll crush her while we sleep. She’s so delicate. Yet, so damn fierce at the same time. They say that the deadliest substances come in the smallest packages. It’s true. My lily of the valley is my personal brand of poison, and there’s no antidote for it. Not for me. She’s coursing through my veins, and nothing on this earth will ever purge her.
I slide inside her another inch. A loud whimper leaves Vasilisa’s lips. She pants, adjusting to my size, her walls squeezing my cock so tightly that I nearly blow my load. Moving my hand to her pussy, I start massaging her clit again. I need her right there with me.
Vasilisa stares into my eyes, hers so devastatingly beautiful in their darkness. I don’t understand why I’m so bewitched by them. Is it the raw desire I can clearly see within those depths? There’s no pretense. She’s not fucking faking it. She doesn’t shut her eyes, blocking out the view. Doesn’t try to forget the beast of a man who’s bringing her pleasure. It’s not the money or expensive gifts that make her unravel at my touch. Just the ecstasy she finds in my arms. Me. Just me. I’ve gotten so used to paying for everything I want, that I’ve forgotten how it feels to hold something freely given.
But she still wants to leave.
I cup her jawline with my hand, tilting her face to meet mine. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl and take a deep breath.”
“Why?” she pants.
“So I can give you another ‘normal physical reaction,’ Vasilisa. Deep breath. Now.”
She threads her fingers through my hair and inhales. I thrust inside her to the hilt. Her eyes roll back as she trembles, her body shaking in my embrace. Hushed whimpers escape her as I retreat, but then they turn into fervent moans when I drive into her again.
My side burns while I pound into her soaked pussy, faster and faster. As she comes, Vasilisa’s moans transform into rapt screams, reverberating off the bedroom walls. I marvel at every note, every ragged breath, every whimpered whisper. I swallow all her sighs. Pry every shuddering quiver from her body. Imprint it all on my memory.
My beautiful Russian princess.
I keep my eyes locked on hers as I explode into her welcoming heat, spilling my seed but keeping my secrets.
“Non ti lascerò mai andare, Vasilisa.”
* * *
A string quartet is performing on a small stage set up to the left of the main entrance. Instead of a classical piece, however, they are mid-rendition of a popular movie score. Draped in black cloths, high-top tables are scattered throughout the main lobby, with tealights inside tiny fishbowls making up the centerpieces. The guests are the who’s who of locals and frequent visitors alike. Dressed to the nines, they mingle and hover near the tables, their never-empty cocktail glasses catching the glow of the candles.
Dozens of eyes follow us as we move further into the space. Nothing uncommon about that. My reputation always precedes me, and my face never fails to garner curious looks. But tonight, all stares seem to be reserved for the woman walking by my side.
I should have expected it. Human beings are naturally drawn to wondrous things. And she is so exceptionally gorgeous that, once tempted eyes are set upon her, they struggle to look away. The primitive parts of our brain just can’t seem to process that something so stunningly beautiful could possibly be real. That makes the stares inevitable.