“Ow,” she complained half-heartedly. “That hurt.”
“You asked for this, kotyonok.”
“Can you just get on with—” I pushed two fingers inside of her, and she sighed, “Oh, God.”
She clenched down on me so tightly, I groaned and pulled my fingers free before I could give in to the urge to fuck her with them. Making a noise of frustration, she turned her head to watch me wrap my hand around my shaft and stroke it once, her eyes half-lidded.
“Do that again,” she breathed.
Fuck. She wanted to watch me jack off.
“Another time.” When I wasn’t going to have to fight the need to come.
When I rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy, the heat of it almost burning, a tremble coasted through her, and her fingers gripped the sheets.
“Nervous?” I asked coarsely.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She was tense as fuck when I eased inside of her—so tense she almost resisted me completely. I caressed her ass and started saying shit I had no control of, unaware of what language I spoke. It could have been fucking Mandarin.
“I know you can take me, kotyonok . . . You’re so goddamn wet . . . This is the nicest cunt I’ve ever seen.”
She finally relaxed. I watched for her reaction while sliding in farther, until I was as deep as I could go. Fuck me. My eyes closed for a second. She gripped me like a tight, wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, but I gave her a moment to adjust, running my hands over the curves of her ass and squeezing.
After a moment, she rocked back against me, and I gave her more, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in. She groaned and dropped to her elbows, bracing her hands on the headboard. I knew this pussy was made to fuck, but . . . Jesus. I slapped her ass in frustration, and when she clenched around me, it took every ounce of restraint to maintain the slow pace.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes settling on each lazy thrust. I rasped, “You like to watch?” and before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder.
Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on my pillow to quiet her moan sent a heady rush to my head, lighting a violent fire inside me. I hissed at the tight pull of her cunt, pressure tightening at the base of my spine. I was lost for a moment, taking her hard and watching her ass jiggle with every thrust.
When she reached back and grabbed my wrist, her nails digging in, I realized it was a reflex of pain and slowed. She was probably still sore from last night, and I was fucking her too hard. I didn’t like the heavy feeling that knowledge sent to my chest. Though what I didn’t like the most was the fact she wasn’t going to tell me I was hurting her.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her back against my chest. She was panting; fucked into a soft, compliant haze. Her head fell to rest against my shoulder. I felt her heart pounding, her fingers gripping my wrist, and her breath against my neck. They weren’t things I usually noticed, and somehow, all of it created a knot behind my ribs.
I skimmed my lips against her ear, my voice rough. “If it’s too much, tell me. Or I’ll stop right now.”
I’d rather take a bullet than stop right now.
“I told you I can take it,” she breathed.
“I don’t give a fuck what you can take. I’m not into dishing out pain.”
“You’re not into slow and sweet either. I don’t know what you want from me.” Insecurity touched her voice. “I want you to like it.”
Fuck. She wanted to please me right now. Why did she have to be so selfless? As much as it annoyed me, it also hit me in the solar plexus. I couldn’t seem to do the right thing with her. She felt too good, too soft, too fucking yellow. It was greedy as hell, but I wanted anything she would give me.
I nipped her earlobe. “Trust me, kotyonok, I’d like it if I were fucking you in slow motion.” I tugged at her tank top. “Now, take this off.”
She pulled it over her head, the motion consuming me with her soft, summery scent. She smelled so damn good I bit down on her neck and sucked, leaving another mark behind. With a sigh, she turned her head to give me more access. I squeezed one of her tits in my hand and told her, “I think I’ll fuck these next.”
With a moan, her head lolled on my shoulder when I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. As I played with her tits and sucked at her neck, she grew restless, rocking her hips for friction before rising, pulling me out almost completely, and then taking me back in as deep as possible.
I groaned and let her fuck me for a moment until she was whimpering and trembling for more.
I nuzzled her neck. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”
The sound of Mila begging gave me a fucking rush that rivaled any drug on the market. At least, I imagined so. I’d never touched a single narcotic in my life.
I nipped her shoulder and said, “Such good manners,” before sliding my hand between her legs. She bounced on me, taking me in with lazy strokes, while I rubbed her clit. Her sounds were pushing me to the edge. So much soft skin and hair. It was all fucking over me.
“I’m gonna . . .”
I pushed her to her hands and knees and fucked her through her orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me so tightly, the heat sliding down my back threatened to erupt. Breath ragged, I stilled and ran my hand up her spine.
“I want to come inside you.” I had no idea that came out of my mouth until it was too late to stop.
She sighed, giving me her lazy, nonverbal consent.
“Don’t let me come inside you,” I growled. I shouldn’t even be fucking her without a condom—regardless if I was clean, and so was she considering her inexperience.
“I have an IUD.”
I processed her words for a second before asking darkly, “Why?” She hated doctors. The only reason she would have an IUD was . . . fucking infuriating. “Were you going to let someone else have this?” I squeezed her ass cheek.
“No . . . I don’t know.”
Not the right answer. In fact, it was so much the wrong answer, I slapped her ass hard enough to welt. She yelped and arched her back, her eyes opening to shoot me a glare over her shoulder. Her annoyance faded when I pulled out and thrust back in at an angle that hit her G-spot. A low moan rose up her throat. I realized I’d never heard her say my name before. And I suddenly needed to.
“You want more, kotyonok?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me who’s fucking you,” I demanded harshly.
“Does it matter?” She tried to rock back against me, but I held her still by her hips.
“Yes, it fucking matters.”
“Why? In the end, I’ll only remember your headboard. It really is a sexy design.”
Gritting my teeth, I threw her to her back so roughly she bounced. I pushed inside of her in one hard thrust, braced my hands beside her head, and watched her eyes roll back. Her fingers gripped my wrists.
“Is this what you want?” I growled.
She was flushed from her orgasm, her breathing rough, but she still managed to say, “I want candles.”
It was so fucking ridiculous, my anger faded. Her soft hands slid down my sides and grabbed ahold of my hips to urge me on. I hated this position. Staring into a woman’s eyes during sex felt so intimate it was nauseating, but Mila wasn’t meeting my gaze; she was looking at where my cock was deep inside her. I found it hot and somewhat . . . annoying she was focused on the sight instead of my face.
“Move,” she breathed.
“No. You want your missionary fuck? Tell me who fucked you first.”
“You.”
She trailed her fingers up my arms, across my shoulders, and into my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.
“My name, kotyonok.”
“Ronan.”
A groan rumbled in my chest, and I started a steady pace, pushing into her with long, slow thrusts
. She braced her hands on the bed behind her and rose up to kiss my chest with a graze of teeth, running her mouth everywhere she could reach. I couldn’t bring myself to make her stop.
“Who’s fucking you now?”
Kissing the corner of my lips, she breathed, “Ronan.” Then she slid her tongue into my mouth, and I had no willpower to resist sucking it.
I fisted her hair and tugged her head back so I could see her eyes. “And who fucks you from now on?” Until Saturday. Everything in me hated the idea so much, I thrust into her hard, forcing her next word out with a moan.
“Ronan.”
I dropped to my elbows, relishing the feel of her tits against my bare chest. She wrapped her long legs around my hips, and when I rolled my pelvis to brush her clit, a sigh of pleasure escaped her.
I skimmed my lips down her neck. “You like that, kotyonok?”
She ran her nails down the length of my back in response, rolling her hips against mine with every thrust. Her little moans were so damn sexy, I kissed her to taste them. She sipped on my bottom lip and then ran her tongue across my scar. I exhaled roughly. Whenever she did that, it made me feel as if I’d been lacking something until she came around and licked me.
Her lips were so soft, and I parted them with my own, slipping my tongue inside. The kiss went straight to my chest.
“I want to . . .” She panted the words between the slide of my lips. “See you . . .” I sucked her bottom lip and released the flesh with a graze of teeth. “Come.”
“You first, kotyonok.”
I grabbed her hands, held them above her head, and grinded against her clit until she shattered beneath me. Then I pressed my face into her neck and came inside her, a white-hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black. My muscles shook, so I rolled off her before I crushed her with my body weight.
I caught my breath for a moment and almost laughed at the irony. A virgin made me come harder than I ever had before. When I felt the mattress dip, I automatically grabbed her wrist without looking.
“I’m tired,” Mila said and pulled against my grip.
Sliding my gaze to her, I saw she was refusing to look at me, her eyes on the door as if she couldn’t wait to leave. I didn’t know why, but I found it fucking irritating. I yanked her ass back to the bed beside me. She exhaled in frustration, and then I noticed the tear running down her cheek. Fuck. My throat felt tight. I knew Mila couldn’t do a casual fuck. I knew, and I took it anyway.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Tell me to stop crying and then let me go.”
Instead, I brushed the tear away with my thumb. The wetness burned my skin and expanded a pressure in my chest that demanded I kiss her. So I did. She sighed into my mouth, her lips tentative against mine.
I pulled back to say, “I’ll get Yulia to find some candles.”
A small smile touched her lips. She thought I was joking. When I reached for my phone on the nightstand, she panicked and grabbed my arm.
“Really, I’m fine,” she said just as another tear escaped.
I wiped the tear away. “Malen’kaya lgunishka . . .” Then I rolled her underneath me and braced my hands on either side of her head. Before she could complain, her eyes paused on my shoulders; on the nautical star tattoo on each one. I could do nothing but look at her as she touched the pendant on her necklace.
The moonlight loved her.
But not as much as my shadows.
“Ti slishkom ideal’naya chto bi byt’ nastoyashchey.” The words escaped me without thought, and when she looked at me with wet lashes, so did the translation I pressed to her ear.
heliophilia
(n.) the desire to stay in the sun
My eyes opened to a dark room, and confusion ran rampant until I saw the black sheet covering me and remembered I was in Ronan’s room. In his bed. With his body heat at my back. The clock on the nightstand said two-thirty a.m., which meant I was only asleep for thirty minutes before waking with a full bladder.
The previous hours turned in my head. I’d anticipated sex and then for Ronan to slap my ass on my way out the door. I didn’t expect for him to say I was perfect and then kiss me until I fell asleep. I hadn’t known he had that kind of softness in him. It was more than I thought I’d ever get. So why did I feel so . . . empty?
God, I really was an emotional fuck.
Quietly, I pulled the sheets back and slid off the bed. When my feet touched the floor, I turned to glance at him. My heart grew heavy at the sight.
He slept on his back, an arm above his head. He looked so human, so vulnerable, so handsome, it stole my breath to even look at him.
Madame Richie’s laugh resounded in my mind and raised the hair on my arms. No wonder she’d burst out laughing. The man meant for me was a mobster who kidnapped me and would soon murder my papa. My fortune must have been the most interesting one she ever foresaw.
I found my clothes on the floor and dragged them into the bathroom. I would have gone straight to my room, but come was leaking down my thighs. A condom had been my last thought when Ronan’s hands were all over me, though now the lack of one filled me with uncertainty. I knew he wasn’t celibate. I also knew he used condoms; they were stashed in his nightstand drawer. My stomach turned at the idea of him with other women in the same bed he just slept with me in—Nadia especially. Was he as soft with her as he was with me? The thought made me sick, so I pushed it away.
After I cleaned myself up, peed, and dressed, I exited the bathroom. Ronan was still sleeping, looking so peaceful I didn’t want to wake him—not that I had a reason to. We’d only had sex; it meant nothing to him. He couldn’t have made it clearer. I was the stupid one for thinking I could handle it and not feel anything for him afterward.
As I moved to the door, my gaze caught on something that glinted silver in the moonlight. Everything inside of me went quiet. Even my heart.
The pistol lay on the floor a few feet away.
My eyes traveled back to Ronan. As a heavy feeling disrupted the silence within me, I suddenly knew I would never turn him in for what he did to me. He may not be a good man, but the world wasn’t black-and-white. He was all the gray in between.
And I was falling for him hard—so hard, I worried when he was finished, there wouldn’t be anything left of me.
I glanced back at the gun, my gaze as torn in direction as the sudden conflict ripping me in half. A part of me wanted to ignore the chance of freedom; the other wondered if this was my only chance to save my papa . . . and, selfishly, myself. I knew I couldn’t take another’s life in the process. I knew without a doubt I could never take Ronan’s.
But most games were won by bluffs.
The moonlight felt like frost on my skin as my feet moved of their own volition. My hands shook when I picked up the murderous piece of metal. It was heavy—so heavy, I immediately wanted to drop it, but when my mind played a scene of me standing in front of my papa’s coffin alone, my grip tightened.
“Kotyonok.”
The single word slid through me, restarting my body with a jolt of axles and wheels that echoed in my ears. My eyes shot to Ronan’s. He sat on the edge of the bed in his briefs, his arms resting on his thighs. A narrowed gaze dropped to the gun in my hands before sliding back up to mine.
“Bring it here.”
A cold sweat flooded me, washing through me with shaky dampness. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The battle within consumed every ounce of me, stealing the air from my lungs and suffocating me.
His gaze hardened. “I said, bring it here.”
This was easier when he was D’yavol and not the man who wiped away my tears. Just the thought burned the backs of my eyes because I knew, after this, he never would again. But I needed to do this now, before I fell so deep I couldn’t find a way out.
“I can’t.” The words leaked of despair.
He stood and stepped toward me, determination in his eyes. I raised the barrel to his chest. The gun was so heavy, my arms shook, the trig
ger burning my finger.
“Don’t. Please don’t.” My blood rushed so loudly in my ears it almost drowned out my voice.
Jaw tight, he paused.
“I can’t be the reason my papa dies. I can’t . . .” Tears ran down my cheeks. “Just let me go,” I pleaded. “That’s all I want.”
He made a dark, disbelieving sound. “You’re a better liar than I thought.”
“What?” My chest constricted.
“Was this your plan?” he growled. “Were you thinking about saving your goddamn father’s life while fucking me?”
I blanched. “No . . . I didn’t plan this, but even if I did, you have no right to turn this around on me.” I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t find any anger. I didn’t have any more emotion to give. “You lied to me. You used me from the beginning.”
“And I’d do it all again.” The statement was full of venom. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so furious. It shook the beat of my heart and forced me back a step.
“Please. Just let me go.” It came out as a sob. “That’s all I want.”
“Nyet.”
He wasn’t calling my bluff, though he also wasn’t going to give in. It hurt me more than anything that he thought I could really shoot him. The idea almost made me drop the gun, but I couldn’t. I didn’t mean anything to him. I was a chess piece. And I couldn’t survive being played anymore.
“Please, Ronan—”
“Don’t say my fucking name.”
I flinched. “I won’t,” I promised. “You won’t even have to see me again. Just let me go.”
There was nothing but my tears and silence for a second—this massive void of silence that would devastate anything alive.
And then he called my bluff.
He moved toward me, closing the distance so quickly I jumped back a step, and that was when my clammy finger slipped on the trigger.
Click.
Both of our eyes fell to the pistol in my hands right before I dropped it. The click replayed in my mind on a reel, each time sending a colder wave through me than the last. My thoughts were so jumbled, my body so numb, I couldn’t feel anything but the words in my head.
The Darkest Temptation Page 28