“Say it,” he commanded, leaning down to press his palms against the bench on either side of my head. The tip of his dick brushed gently, teasing my wet, warm, most intimate parts and making me writhe against the pillows.
“I want it. I want you inside me.” I covered my face as I said the words, embarrassment rushing through me and making my cheeks burn.
“Look at me. You’re not allowed to hide.” He gripped my wrists and moved my hands to reveal my face.
Our eyes locked, I felt him move his hips, gyrating in slow motion to brush up and down my pussy. And then he was pressing between my lips. And I was so slick that he didn’t need to encourage his dick to slip between the folds and find my opening. He moved his hips forward, making it slow, inch by inch, until our bodies met in a hot, damp, slap of skin.
After that, it was like he couldn’t hold back anymore. His control slipped away, and he shoved in and pulled out of me like a relentless storm. I groaned, each stroke ripping pleasure from my body. Pangs of near orgasm shot through my limbs. I could feel the undercurrent of a scream-inducing wave beginning to build, nearing tsunami level, as Alexander’s thumb pushed between my body and rubbed at my clit.
The dual sensations were too much, and the wave crested, miles high, then sent me crashing down to earth as my body shook uncontrollably and I screamed, slapping a hand over my mouth to keep the noise from traveling to lower levels of the building.
Alexander groaned, hips shoving against my body and this time not pulling back away. He came again, as yet another orgasm rocked through my oversensitive body.
He gripped either side of the seating, his breathing coming in ragged pants as he came back down from his orgasm, his dick softening inside of me as my body continued to pulse around him.
“If you carry on like that, I may not be able to let you go back to dinner, Marisha,” he said, his voice raw and throaty. I blushed harder, unable to stop my body from gripping his and he smiled. Leaning down, he pushed my hair back from my shoulders. “We have to get back,” he finally said, his muscular stomach pressed against my much softer one as he held me. Every now and then his mouth would nip at my skin as if he’d take a round three if he could.
“I can’t act normal… not after this,” I spoke throatily, weakness permeating every inch of me.
“You have to,” he rebuked, finally standing up to rip off the condom and dress.
“Easy for you to say,” I stared at him, watching the way his muscles flexed as he pulled up his pants. “I don’t even know if I can walk.”
As if to prove my point, I stood up from the bench, instantly swaying. Alexander reached for me, pulling me into an embrace as my dress fell down my legs and settled into place as if nothing had happened.
“You seem to have a problem with walking after sex, Marisha,” he smirked, pushing hair out of my face again and giving me an intensely smoldering look.
“No more,” I said quickly, legs shaking and feeling new tingles of expectation from my body, like I’d been too hungry for too long and now that I’d been fed, I’d never be sated. “How long have we been gone?” I pushed away from him, pulling my dress straps back up on my shoulders and cringing when I spied the tiniest snag in the sheer material keeping the plunging neckline from being too slutty for Evelina Vasiliev’s approval.
Alexander shrugged, as if doing this in secret didn’t really matter to him. Maybe it was less of a concern for him. He was royalty, his indiscretions would be forgiven. He’d survive us being discovered.
I wouldn’t.
“We really should get back.” I ran my hands through my hair, feeling anxious now. I hadn’t made the mistake of wearing it up this time. The loose curls fell back into place, sleek and shiny. The silk of the dress didn’t hold wrinkles and shook out easily. I was presentable. “I’ll go first.”
I walked away from Alexander, resisting the urge to look behind me, because if I did, I might run back to him. I took the elevator this time, as it was faster, and it gave me more time and a mirrored surface to check my lipstick. I tried to focus on my breathing, slow down my heartbeat, so I could return to the table without looking disheveled.
Still, the walk to the table was like a gallow’s journey, and every footstep felt like it brought me closer to ruination.
“Marisha, you were gone for some time,” Evelina’s voice greeted me first.
“I’m so sorry, please accept my apologies. Female troubles.” I said the excuse quickly, thinking it would also save me from Ivan’s anger and his advances later.
“Say no more. Do you require anything?” She asked the question and she actually sounded kind.
I smiled, regretting lying to her. And then pangs of guilt for other reasons shot through me, pangs of guilt that made my swollen places twinge with the memories of what I’d done with her son. Not for the first time, her words of warning played on repeat through my brain. I’d be judged on my own actions.
“No, no thank you. I came prepared.” I sat down next to Ivan, ignoring his probing gaze. Thankfully, he didn’t have the time to also question me, not with Eduard still speaking in earnest about their new business venture.
Alexander took his time coming back to the table, his phone to his ear. He clicked it off as he sat back down, taking the seat across from me. Fresh heat flooded my face as I stared down at my half-finished plate.
“That was quite some phone call, Son,” Evelina smiled at him and patted his forearm.
“Nikolai. There’s been some issues with customs at the pier. We need to work them out before the next shipment.” Alexander spoke so casually, the lies falling so easily from his lips, that I wondered if I could ever believe anything that he said to me. Or if I cared. His body was what I wanted, what I craved. What I thought about when I touched myself at night, long after Ivan had his way with me and was snoring loudly. He looked directly at Ivan, holding my husband’s gaze in his. “The European market will be unsuccessful at this rate, Ivan. You need to get the situation under control, or I will control it for you.” The threat in Alexander’s words were not veiled, but obvious and cutting.
Ivan’s nostrils flared in fury, and I waited for him to explode and rage, but after a moment he nodded and picked his drink back up.
“I’ll handle it,” he agreed.
Moments later, the dessert round came. A chocolate mousse with almond whip and raspberry drizzle.
“Oh, my favorite. Thank you, dear.” Evelina leaned over to Eduard and kissed him gently on the cheek. He smiled, taking her hand.
“Come to your favorite restaurant and not have your favorite treat? What kind of husband would that make me?” He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand gently. I watched, enraptured by his attentiveness to her. A longing bloomed within me, wishing that I could have the same one day.
The blood-soaked Bratva King had a real soft spot for his wife. Who would have guessed? I’d heard many stories of the things he’d done as he rose to his position and none of them had been pleasant. None described the man that now stared longingly into his wife’s eyes right now. It made me wonder—could a person be so completely bathed in blood and sin, yet still hold on to some form of humanity? Was that even possible?
As I dipped my spoon into the dark chocolate, I startled. Something was brushing against my legs, tracing up my calves and pushing into the space between my thighs. Blinking, I looked up to Alexander across from me. He was focused on his own dessert, but I saw the way his mouth quirked in a boyish half smile.
I shifted in my chair, dress riding up as the slit in my skirt parted to expose my legs. I glanced down to my lap, seeing Alexander’s socked foot angling to brush his toes against me. He snaked beneath my dress, and it was a short journey to delicate skin from there. I dropped the soft cotton napkin onto my lap, hiding what he was doing, and I tossed a warning glance at him. He continued to smirk down at his dessert, and as his foot pressed against my folds, I couldn’t suppress a tiny gasp. I was still so s
ensitive and swollen.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Zolotov?” Alexander looked at me, his voice the picture of innocence.
Again, I glared at him. “I’m fine. This dessert is just so,” I stuttered against the needle pricks of pleasure that threatened to build and send me over the edge yet again, “so good.”
“Isn’t it though? Chef Marcus created it special for me on my fortieth birthday,” Evelina took a bite, fork tines clamped between her nude lips as she savored the mousse.
“Fortieth? I’d have guessed late thirties at the most,” Ivan simpered, trying to garner favor with the Bratva queen.
Evelina, for her part, nodded curtly. “I’m fifty-one now. How time does fly.”
“Aged like fine wine, my love.” Eduard smiled at his wife.
I wriggled against the chair as Alexander continued to tease against me, my expression darting to him and my eyes pleading with him to stop. His father and mother were here. My husband was here.
Heaven help us.
Heaven help me!
Finally, I reached down under the pretense of picking up my napkin to wipe my mouth. I gripped his ankle and pushed him away from me. I tried to be inconspicuous, not leaning down too much in my chair. To his credit, Alexander didn’t persist this time, and I was able to dab the napkin against my mouth without worrying he’d push his foot back beneath my dress.
I had to admit to myself though… I was a little disappointed that he gave up so easily.
Chapter Thirteen
Alexander
I paced the floor, my mind going a thousand revs per minute. I needed to see her again. It had only been three days, but I’d been craving her non-stop since I’d taken her in the restaurant. Every night I laid in my bed with thoughts of her assaulting my brain and making me hard. I saw her crimson mouth wrapped around my dick. Her hand clasping my length as I came down her wanton throat. Fuck, the way she’d lapped up my cum like a starved lover… I’d been with desperate women, but this wasn’t desperation in Marisha’s case. It was like she was embracing her deeply buried needs; like she was finding her freedom after being caged for so long.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her even if I tried. She was burned deep into my mind. And the images sent me over the edge like a schoolboy dreaming of his mistress.
Fuck, that’s what she was to me.
She was my mistress, because she could never really be mine.
Not while she was married to that prick.
My cell phone rang, and I slid it out of my jacket, answering it before the third ring. “Hello?” I snapped, too sharp, too hard.
“Alexander?” Nikolai’s voice greeted me. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” I replied, my tone angry and frustrated.
“Woah there, you sound like you’ve just been told you’re being cut out of your father’s will,” he joked, laughing obnoxiously.
“That’s not funny,” I barked, forcing myself to sit down on the edge of my bed. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get Marisha out of my head before I did something stupid.
I had to wait.
I had to be patient.
A time and place would present itself to me when I could have her again. When Ivan wouldn’t be there to interrupt us, and I could fuck her until she was out of my system completely. There would be no constraints, no clock ticking away precious time together.
I just had to wait.
“Sorry,” Nikolai mocked on the other end of the phone. “Listen, I’m going out tonight, why don’t you come?”
Out. Yes, out would be good. I could drink, fuck, I could forget about Marisha and her perfect pussy for one night.
“Where were you thinking?” I asked, walking to my closet to change. “I’m not going to that goddamn awful little strip club again.”
Nikolai laughed loudly. “I was told it was a good night. Beautiful women, good beer…”
“Those women were hags, and the beer was warm,” I replied dryly, not in the mood for his jokes tonight.
“All right, all right, you’re really in a shitty mood, you know that,” he tutted. “I was thinking of heading to Paradise Blu’s. I heard they have an act on tonight.”
I frowned as I thought of where I’d heard that name before. “I’ve heard of that place. Katya goes there a lot. She says it reminds her of what New York would have been like in the fifties. You know how she is for that old time shit.”
Nikolai laughed. “Pretty sure your sister was born in the wrong era.”
“You’re telling me.” I held the phone under my ear as I stripped out of my shirt and picked out a fresh one. I didn’t want to go and listen to blues music tonight. I wanted to get smashed out of my face and fall into bed with as many women as possible so I could fuck away the memory of Marisha and her perfect pussy. “Can we just go to a club?”
“How about we head to Paradise Blu’s for one drink and if it’s awful we can go to a club afterwards?” he suggested.
I still wasn’t happy about it, but now the thought was in my head, and all I could focus on was getting wasted. I wanted to fly solo even less than I wanted to go to Paradise Blu’s, so I’d let Nikolai have his way for now.
“Whatever. Just pick me up in thirty,” I replied and hung up.
One way or another I was forgetting Marisha for a night. Perhaps for good. Marisha was beautiful in every way, but she was just one woman in a world of many. I’d find someone else. Someone just as perfect. How hard could it be?
*
Fuck. All I could think about was Marisha.
Every beautiful woman that brushed past me was her. Every scent of perfume that hung in the air was hers. Every redhead was her. Every lingering look, every laugh, every curve…all I saw was her. And it was beginning to piss me off.
So, I drank.
I drank quickly, deeply, and until I couldn't see straight, in the hopes of drinking her away, but it wasn’t working.
Nikolai was somewhere around here, likely tormenting my little sister as always. Two minutes might not sound like a lot to most, but it still meant I was older than her. We’d only stayed at Paradise Blu’s for an hour before he’d convinced her to come with us to our usual nightclub. I wasn’t sure why he basically begged her to ditch her friends and come with us, since all they ever did was argue, but I didn’t care. They were pre-occupied leaving me to drown my spirits.
I stumbled back into the VIP area of the club and sat down with a sigh. Grabbing the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, I poured myself another glass. $900 a bottle and I didn’t even like champagne, that was the ironic thing. It wasn’t about the taste anyways; it was about the expense. My father had an image to uphold and anything less than the best on show would seriously piss him off. I sighed, pulling my cell phone out to check that no one had called me.
Of course, no one had. Everyone important to me, barring my mother and father, were here. Everyone except Marisha. I stared down at the number in my phone, having managed to acquire it from one of my many discrete sources. A man that, other than Nikolai, I trusted with my life. He’d gotten so much information for me over the years that I had him on speed dial. I paid well for his discretion and he knew not to cross me.
Marisha’s number taunted me the more I stared at it.
If I texted her and Ivan saw, we’d both be in deep shit. At least I could get out of the situation, but Marisha wouldn’t be able to. An unfaithful wife was as good as dead in our world.
Yet the urge to message her was irresistible.
I had to know what she was doing.
I had to know when I could see her again.
I typed in a message, hoping she’d know it was from me and that Ivan would be none-the-wiser. It was 1 o’clock in the morning so they’d likely both be in bed anyway.
No sooner had I messaged did I see the three little dots show up letting me know she was replying.
Seconds ticked by with only my own coded message staring back at me, mockin
g me in its absurdity. She was probably confused as to who the hell this was. No clue that it’s me. I felt stupid for the first time in my life, and I pushed my drink away realizing, too late, that I needed to stop drinking before I made the situation worse.
I stared at my message again. The three dots below still taunting me.
A - The stained-glass windows never looked so beautiful.
Finally, she put me out of my misery with her reply.
M - I agree. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them either.
A smile found its way to my lips. She knew it was me. Thank fuck for that. A woman came over to the table and I looked up at her sharply.
“Fuck off,” I bit out and she turned on her heel and walked away with a pout.
A - I wish I could see it again.
M - So do I.
An idea came to my mind and I stood up and drew the curtain around the booth, a sure sign to anyone that I was accompanied behind it and didn’t want to be disturbed.
A - Didn’t you take a picture of it?
I asked, hoping she’d catch the real meaning of what I was trying to say.
M - Yes, I did.
A - Show me.
Three dots appeared and then vanished several times. And the entire time my dick grew harder and harder at the prospect of her texting me in the dark, that dumb fuck Ivan fast asleep next to her.
M - One minute.
I unzipped my suit pants, my hand going to my rock-hard dick as I waited. Long moments passed, and I was beginning to think she’d chickened out or really hadn’t got what I was saying. Christ, how embarrassing would it be if she were lying there now googling pictures of the stained glass windows I’d fucked her in front of. I’d begun to sober up and regretted texting her at all. I’d never chased a woman before. They chased me. But there was something about this woman that had me wanting to throw on my running shoes and chase her wherever was needed to get exactly what I wanted.
Just as I was about to tuck my dick back into my pants, a picture came through. I stared at it confused for a moment, before realizing it was a close-up picture of her hand reaching into her silken panties.
Deviant Prince: A Forbidden bad boy Mafia Romance. (Born to Darkness Duet Book 1) Page 9