The Player

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The Player Page 5

by Kresley Cole


  And that only made me wetter.

  His hands were shaking, his words ragged as he said, "I never knew my cock could ache this much." He started kissing down my body.

  A flick of his tongue along my cleavage. Another above my navel.

  "Whoa. What are you going to do?" I barely recognized my own voice.

  He tugged my soaked panties down to my knees. "Need to eat you."

  I pressed his head back. "Wait, let's don't. Not that much of a fan actually." I never could come from it, and guys seemed to think they'd failed if they couldn't bring me off. The pressure spoiled it for me.

  But I didn't want to put Dmitri off totally, so I said, "I make up for that with my love of head."

  He narrowed his eyes. "We'll address this soon." He cupped me, massaging my pussy.

  What did that mean? I couldn't think when he was stroking me--like he owned me. "It's just . . . not my favorite."

  "It will be when I do it." His confidence could almost make me believe. He released me, raising his glistening fingers between us. "A taste of what will come." Then he licked them.

  Another play on words! What will come.

  As he tasted my wetness, his eyes rolled back in his head. "So--fucking--luscious!" He sucked his fingers as if he couldn't get enough.

  I moaned, just from the sight. "Dmitri."

  With a growl, he tore his fingers away. "If you deny me that, then I will have to punish you."

  "Punish?"

  He pulled me to my feet and turned me to face the mirror again. "Spread your legs and put your hands on the counter. Do not move them from there."

  I hesitated, partly because of the con, partly from trepidation. With my panties around my knees and my legs parted, I rested my palms on the marble--

  His palm cracked against my ass.

  Comprehension came slowly. He'd . . . spanked me? I'd just been freaking spanked! I wasn't into this at all.

  But my job was to send him ever closer to sexual insanity; if a whipping lit his wick, then I'd be forced to go along with this.

  Another slap. The sound was ridiculously loud.

  I gritted my teeth and accepted my fate.

  Slap! He collared my throat with his other hand, holding me steady. Slap!

  Heat from my ass radiated to my back, my legs, my . . . pussy. This weird interplay started getting to me. My internal resistance dwindled.

  He must've sensed it. "That's it," he said, his tone filled with dark praise. "Submit to me."

  Submit . . . My core clenched at the word. With each spank, my tits shook, and I loved the way he watched them in the mirror. My nipples were harder than I'd ever seen them, my clit throbbing.

  "Look at you meeting my strikes."

  I'd been raising my ass for more! What was happening to me? Unknown circuits in my brain seemed to be firing for the first time.

  Because of this man. The key . . .

  "Do you want more?" His voice was hot-wired to my pussy.

  I had to know what he'd do next! He'd said he wouldn't fuck me. Anything else was working the con--with a freaking billionaire as my mark! "Yes!"

  With his free hand, he gripped me firmly between my thighs. "So wet! It feels like my beautiful girl needs to come."

  I sucked in a breath at the shocking contact. "Dmitri, I can't take much more of this!"

  His body thrummed, muscles bulging beneath his clothes. "Can you take this?" He shook that hand, vibrating all of my pussy.

  "Oh, my GOD." My back bowed, my nipples straining painfully. My spread legs twitched, my ass quivering.

  He slapped it again. The force shoved my clit against his vibrating palm.

  Pleasure mounted. I was going to come in his hand if he kept spanking me. "More."

  He whipped me again, sending me into his waiting grip.

  I stared into his eyes as my orgasm neared. "Please . . ."

  Another slap.

  "What are you doing to me?" I sounded awed.

  "I want to make you feel good so you'll keep coming back to me for more."

  Good? I was about to climb the walls! "Please let me come!"

  "Show me how badly you need it. Use my hand." The hand he'd stilled. The one I was all but resting on.

  He'd taken me to the very edge, then upped the ante. Could I call his bet? It would be so shameful to work my clit against him. To soak his palm with my cum.

  "Submit to me." He released the hand gripping my ass. Because he wanted me to do this all on my own?

  I'd never felt so out of control. Why was I fighting the overwhelming urge to obey him? I needed to grind my orgasm out right in his hand!

  "You want to do it for me, beautiful." His amber eyes mesmerized me.

  Did I? Could I? My face flamed as I accepted the truth.

  I let the spell come over me, and I started to move my hips.

  "That's it," he hissed. "That's what I want to see."

  My toes curled. "It's so good . . . so good . . . so good." As I rocked to his palm, my heavy-lidded gaze dipped. When I saw his big cock threatening to rip free, all thoughts of restraint dissolved. "I changed my mind! Do you have a condom?"

  He groaned. "I would kill to fuck you. Never been so hard." He rubbed the heel of his free hand over the ridge in his pants. A circle of precum dampened the material.

  It should've wet my tongue.

  "But I told you I wouldn't." That mattered to him right now?

  "I need you to fuck me, Dmitri--I feel out of my mind!"

  His lips drew back from his white teeth, his expression fierce. "That is how crazed you've made me every moment since I first saw you!" He stood behind me to thrust his cock against my burning ass.

  When the material of his pants abraded my skin, I cried out.

  "Are you going to come for me, Vika?" He gave another thrust as I continued to grind his hand.

  "I'm so close!" What had he called me? Vika? "So close . . ." My lids slid shut.

  "Ah-ah. You look at me when you come."

  I opened my eyes. Panting, I stared into the mirror, losing myself in his penetrating gaze. My hips rocked frantically, my body drawing tight, preparing to climax. "Oh, God . . ."

  "Now say please, beautiful." His dick swelled even more between us.

  I would've done anything. "Please!"

  "Come hard." He vibrated his grip and thrust against my abused ass.

  I screamed as I hurtled over the edge, helplessly grinding my pussy into his hot palm. My vision blurred. My body writhed, tits shaking.

  Pleasure overpowered me as I came and came for this man. . . .

  He and I worked together to draw out my orgasm--the strongest I'd ever experienced. Finally, I leveled out, boneless against him.

  He removed his hand. "The pressure . . . about to spill!" His zipper sounded.

  I whirled around and nearly lost my footing as he worked his erection free. I gasped at the jaw-dropping sight.

  Dmitri was pierced!

  He had a silver ring through the crown, a Prince Albert piercing. "Oh, my God, your cock is so sexy!" Veins protruded over his thick shaft, the head stretched taut. My tongue swirled in my mouth for the precum wetting that pierced slit.

  He rocked his hips, fucking the air between us. "Can feel your gaze on my cock!"

  "I need to suck it, Dmitri." I dropped to my knees on the rug to worship it.

  "Woman! Drive me madder than I already am!"

  When I gripped his shaft, it jerked against my palm. I leaned in to kiss him, but he pinched my chin.

  "Can't hold my cum! Look at me, angel. Keep me here."

  Keep him? Entranced by this man, I nodded and pumped his length.

  His hooded gaze bored into mine. He never glanced away. Not even when he emptied his lungs on a bellow. Not even when I felt the first lash of his scorching semen across my chest.

  His massive body quaked uncontrollably, a prisoner to my hand. Eyes gone wide, I milked his cum over and over, till my tits were drenched and it dripped from
my swollen nipples.

  Next time it'd go between my lips.

  Once his yells died down, he repeatedly grated something in Russian. Prosto rai? He shuddered, stilling my hand.

  Reality returned by degrees. Dmitri Sevastyan came on my tits. Cold-as-Ice Vice had humped a strange guy's palm and got a very filthy cum shot. I released his dick and quickly tugged up my panties, as if that would lessen what I'd done.

  When he helped me stand, I whispered, "I can't believe I just did that." I nearly buried my face in my hands. How had I lost control like that? Toward the end, I hadn't had a single thought about the con.

  He hissed in a breath when he tucked his semihard cock back in his pants. I expected a player's disdain, the zip-up and the casual, "Yeah, I'll call you."

  I deserved nothing less.

  Yet Dmitri seemed even more interested in me. "Let me help you, moy angel." He wetted a cloth and reached for my chest, then hesitated. "I never want to forget this sight."

  I gasped when he rubbed the cloth over my sensitive nipples, cleaning his warm cream. Voice rumbling, he said, "This will get us right back to where we were."

  To me frantic for sex? I took the cloth from him. "I can do it. I'll be right out."

  Out. With everyone else. After what I'd just let happen?

  The entire penthouse had to have heard us.

  His brows drew together. "You want me to . . . I'm to leave?"

  What a confusing man. He'd been all blistering need and steely command in the throes, but now he seemed unsure. In a quiet rasp, he said, "I don't want to let you out of my sight."

  I bit my lip. "I'm kind of wearing your DNA right now, so do me a solid, huh?"

  He canted his head, as if trying to gauge my reaction. "With reluctance."

  CHAPTER 7

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  After washing, redressing, and twisting my hair up again, I checked my appearance in the mirror. Other than my flushed cheeks, I didn't see any outward evidence of what we'd done. But I was still feeling my jackpot of an orgasm--and those shooters.

  I drew a steadying breath, looped my purse over my shoulder, then opened the door.

  Dmitri stood directly outside. A hank of jet-black hair fell over his forehead as he stared down at me.

  My cousin had tried to describe this very look; I realized why he'd had so much trouble.

  Dmitri Sevastyan's expression was half longing, half dark possessiveness, as intense as everything else about the Russian. "Was that too much? I want you to be comfortable with me."

  "I'm just a little . . . overwhelmed. I'm gonna slip out." I really didn't want to say good-bye and how nice to meet you to all of them right now.

  "I understand. I will see you home at once." He fished his phone from his pocket, texting even faster than Pete. "We can leave through the doorway at the end of the hall."

  Minutes later, we'd arrived downstairs and a sleek Mercedes limo was pulling up to the VIP entrance. This private drive was shielded behind the Calydon's gate--so barbarians like my family couldn't get in.

  A nondescript brown-haired bodyguard opened the door for me, asking for my address. I muttered it, and Dmitri helped me in.

  Then he sat beside me.

  I blinked. "I thought you'd just see me off." Good God, this was going to be the longest fifteen-minute ride of my life.

  In reply, he reached for me, pulling me across his lap--as if he couldn't get close enough to me. So much for a player's disdain.

  His body heat and scent lit me right back up again. My ass still tingled from my spanking. Blush. "You keep putting me on your lap."

  "Why should I not?" The question wasn't rhetorical. He was genuinely curious.

  I didn't have an answer for him, so I just sighed.

  In a low tone, he said, "I have . . . difficulty reading others. Did I do too much?"

  "Of what?"

  "Are you angry that I came on you?"

  My eyes widened. Okay, then, let's talk sex. I dragged my mind back to business. I needed to ignite his desire for a future encounter, while planting some good-girl seeds. "When I felt your cum, I loved it. My first thought was that it would go between my lips next time."

  His lips parted on a breath. "Victoria . . ."

  "But I've only known you for a few hours. I worry I gave you the wrong idea. I don't behave like this. Ever. I made it to twenty-four with only three notches in my belt, and those experiences were vanilla." I'd enjoyed my ex's linebacker physique and had gotten off with him more times than I hadn't. But, yeah, sex with Brett had been relatively tame.

  "Did anything else make you uncomfortable?" Dmitri asked.

  "I don't know about being spanked. About . . . BDSM." I liked things simple. From what I'd seen online, BDSM seemed to be all about props and wardrobe and power dynamics. As if I didn't have to deal with those three things enough when conning.

  Too much work; too much prep.

  "It made you come hard, no? What if we agree to stop as soon as it fails to do so?" He assumed we'd be spending that much time together?

  "Do you want to tie me up?" What did my future hold?

  "Yes. I want to control the pace of what happens between us."

  "When did you get interested in this stuff?" Had I put off a spank me vibe to Dmitri? Was that why he'd engaged with me instead of Karin? The thought made me uneasy.

  "A year ago. My brothers have those leanings. I got the idea from Maksim."

  "Do Lucia and Natalie share those leanings?"

  "Proudly."

  The PhD and the heiress? Mind blown. "Is that why you got your piercing done?"

  "I suppose it's all related."

  "You just woke up and thought, I could pierce my dick today?" Maybe for a lover?

  He shrugged. "I considered the decision for a while. I wanted to make myself different than I'd been, and I thought it would alter the . . . sensations."

  Different. Altered. What was wrong with how he'd been?

  "I had it done a few months ago." He paused. "You don't mind it?"

  "I'll probably dream about your dick tonight."

  "I could stay over and ensure that." Oh, he could be so charming.

  Dmitri was a conundrum. At times tonight, I could sense him struggling socially--hesitating before he spoke, gazing away, seeming to have more in common with quiet Aleks. Yet then Dmitri could turn around and demonstrate as much charm as Maksim.

  "Why have you slept with so few men?" he asked.

  "I wasn't exactly intent on preserving my virtue, sirrah."

  The corner of his lips almost tilted up. A micro-smile. "Then why?"

  Residual tequila made me reveal my superpowers: "I can always tell two things. When someone is lying to my face, and when someone is selling me. The words sound like nails down a chalkboard to me. It's always been that way." A handy talent. "When I was a teenager, the guys I fooled around with pulled out all the stops to close one deal in particular. It turned me off like a bucket of ice water."

  I remembered all their ploys.

  My parents are out of town--but only for this weekend. (This deal won't last long!)

  If you don't wanna be with me like this, maybe I'll find a girl who will. (Act now or lose this opportunity forever!)

  We don't have to go all the way; I'll only put the tip in. (Sign and drive! No cash down!)

  Dmitri tucked a stray curl behind my ear. "I will never lie to you." Eventually he would. They always did.

  But I didn't care--because I was running game on him. "When do you return to Russia?"

  "That depends. I have an opportunity I'm investigating here." He made me sound like the opportunity.

  Was he almost on the hook? If so, then I would need to be elusive. Give and take, ebb and flow. "I might have to work tomorrow night."

  "Why?"

  "Is work such a foreign concept?"

  "I know work. For over a decade, I sequestered myself i
n a research lab seventeen hours a day, seven days a week."

  "Really?" According to Pete's notes, Dmitri owned two of the fifty highest-grossing tech patents.

  He nodded. "I've already completed a lifetime of work. Literally. I did the math."

  "Then what were you asking?"

  "Are you working toward something? Saving up?"

  "Oh. I wouldn't mind replacing A2B. That's my ancient truck's nickname." Because getting me from point A to point B was the only thing noteworthy about the junker. Lately, point B was a stretch. When I'd left Brett, I'd also left behind the car he'd been paying for. "By the sound of its engine, I'm pretty sure my truck's trying to tell me, 'Go on . . . without me . . . save yourself.'"

  The corner of Dmitri's lips curled again. I hadn't seen him smile fully, but his micro-smile was still a heart-stopper.

  "A vehicle is all you want?"

  Was he angling for big gifts already? I was an ace at milk-cowing! It seemed a little early for step five of the long con--the pitch--but if he was receptive . . . "And I'm getting evicted soon." So buy me a pony--and a condo!

  "We can't have you getting evicted, moy angel."

  Step five was best done gradually over several meetings; having planted the seed, I changed the subject. "What did you mean when you said you have difficulty reading others?"

  "I can claim no talent for it. I know science and math and technology, but I am repeatedly thrown by people."

  His admission softened me even more toward him. Any hints of vulnerability made this larger-than-life man more relatable--he's actually a mortal--but he shouldn't tell people stuff like that, or they'd fleece him blind.

  People like me. My pang of guilt hit me like a sucker punch. "Then how do you know who to trust?"

  His eyes dimmed. "We always find out in the long run, do we not?"

  Whoa, I wasn't the only one whose trust had been betrayed. And this man was still suffering from it. Had a former friend inflicted that damage? A family member?

  A lover?

  The idea of him scorned by a woman and possibly still in love with her made me so jealous, I grew anxious. Developing feelings for him would be disastrous.

  And how would a man like him react if he found out what I was? His security might flag something on us, sooner or later.

  I was betraying Dmitri's trust right now. "Sounds like you got burned somewhere along the line."

  He gazed out the window. "Early along the line."

  "By someone you were involved with?"

  He shrugged.

  A pall seemed to have fallen over us. "Dmitri?" I laid my hand on his cheek, and his lids grew heavy. He leaned into my palm, and my heart twisted. He'd needed that tiny show of comfort from me.

 

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