by Alexa Riley
A hint of unease creeps into my chest, but I banish it.
I’ve already mapped the restaurant where I plan to feed Anya, and we approach the freeway exit right on time. The gourmet sandwich shop is not the main attraction in the tiny town, though. And when we park along the main street, she sees it and gasps.
“A library? Oh my God, it’s huge.” She fumbles with the door handle, unable to take her eyes off the gothic building. “Sasha, did you know?”
I don’t bother answering, because she should know by now, I do nothing by accident. Instead, I climb out of the driver’s side and round the bumper, scanning the street for threats as I take Anya’s hand, pulling her onto the sidewalk. She sways into me, but this time I don’t step back right away. I let her front mold to mine, her lips popping open at the feel of my jutting cock. I want to back her against the car, thrust my erection up between her thighs and introduce her to the only cock she’ll ever know, damn the potential witnesses. But as always, when I take her out in public, heads begin turning almost immediately. In Anya’s direction. There is a breeze blowing against the hem of her skirt, the white material teasing the underside of her tempting ass. That same breeze stiffens her nipples and makes her shiver, skyrocketing my protective instincts. Grinding my teeth together, I reach into the backseat and wrap her in the denim jacket she brought along.
She presses her lips together, those green eyes knowing. Does she enjoy my jealousy? I wonder if she still would if she knew how deep it runs. “Thank you for the library,” she whispers. “Can we go?”
“Da, angel.” I take her hand and lead her to the restaurant. “After you eat.”
“I’m not even hungry.”
She consumes every bite. I eat much faster, so I lean back in my chair and enjoy the sight of her mouth moving, the little pleased noises she makes. Just like on the street, every male in the place cranes their neck to get an eyeful of what’s mine. Until I let them know with my eyes that I will strangle them with piano wire in their sleep if they don’t fuck off. By the time Anya finishes, we’re the only ones left in the restaurant, which pleases me very much.
On the walk to the library, Anya takes my hand and smiles up at me. “I guess I should enjoy the good meals while they last. It’s going to be crappy campus food from here on out.”
Again, there’s an uncomfortable pang below my neck, much like guilt. “Only one hour in the library, Anya. I want to stay on schedule.”
She glances up at the giant clock on top of the library. “Freshman orientation isn’t until tomorrow night. We have until then to move me into the dorm.” She sends me a saucy wink. “No sweat, right?”
No sweat? Moving her into a place full of strangers with bad judgment and a horny man - child trying to get laid around every corner? This is what she considers no sweat? There is only one way for me to retain my sanity, and it doesn’t include leaving her to sleep in a place where I cannot guard her.
When I don’t answer, questions appear in Anya’s eyes, but I quickly usher her into the library. Her intake of breath distracts me from my dark thoughts, replacing them with appreciation over her reaction. There’s a beam of sunlight streaming in through a second - story stained - glass window, and it lands on the angel, making her glow even brighter. She presses her fingers to her lips and turns in a circle, taking in the sweeping marble staircases and endless rows of books on either side.
I only have eyes for Anya, because surely there is no greater creation on this earth. The fates could not truly expect me to let her go. No. It would be impossible. I would go insane.
I’m doing the right thing. The only thing.
My voice is gruff when I find it. “The fiction section is downstairs. To your right.”
Her lips tilt at the evidence that not only did I plan in advance to bring her here, but I did my research. For her. Everything for her. “I think I’ll take a look upstairs first.”
When she climbs the marble staircase, her backside twitches right to left, turning my bloodstream into a river of fire. She casts a look back at me over her shoulder, and I know she’s up to something.
But hell if I can do anything but follow.
* * *
Anya
Turnabout is fair play, right?
Sasha has stroked my hormones like a harp player for the longest. I’ve lived for his grudging smiles and grunts of approval. I’ve woken up hot and sweaty because his lips accidentally grazed my earlobe during a hug, turning my dreams into graphic movies starring him. And me. It has not been easy living on the razor’s edge of something I don’t fully understand but am eager to learn about. And yes, maybe plotting to seduce him in a public library is a little impulsive. After all, he all but told me we’re going all the way tonight. Mere hours from now.
A hot shiver passes through me as I turn down the darkened self - help aisle, Sasha’s boots thudding heavily on the marble behind me. I don’t want to wait for tonight. This attraction ran thick between the both of us, so I’m kind of pissed that he kept me at a distance while I was suffering. We both had needs — Sasha had no right to file it under his stubborn terms.
Maybe the politician’s daughter is coming out to play, because I feel compelled to take back a little of the control he didn’t see fit to allow me. I’ve been handled by my handler, and I don’t appreciate knowing how much time we’ve wasted.
Sasha thought I was playing games with him before? He ain’t seen nothing yet.
I find what I’m looking for and stop, pointing to the top shelf. “Sasha?” He’s suddenly so huge beside me in the dim lighting, his tightly leashed control beginning to show signs of strain, it takes me a moment to continue. “Can you reach up and get me the big red one? The one with gold lettering on the spine?”
He seems surprised by my request, but complies. And I have the satisfaction of watching one dark eyebrow hop toward his hairline when he reads the title. “The Kama Sutra, Anya?”
I step between Sasha and the shelf and slowly unbutton his signature black overcoat. Listening to his breath accelerate, I run a finger down his chest and stomach, feeling pretty smug when he groans. “I thought I could use some pointers for tonight.” My index finger hooks in his waistband of his dress pants and tugs. “Don’t you want me to be…ready?”
“I will put you in the positions that will bring you the most pleasure,” Sasha rasps, reaching over my head to slide the book back into its slot. “You will not need such pointers.”
“Because you’re going to teach me.”
Pinpricks of sweat appear on his brow. “This is so.”
The ragged hunger in his tone sends warmth pooling between my legs, so I rub my thighs together to help tend the ache. But it doesn’t help. No, it only makes me desperate to be touched. If this plan backfires and I’m left hot to trot…without any actual trotting…I’m in for a world of hurt. “Can you give me a brief outline of the lesson plan now?”
Sasha grips the shelves above my head, and they creak in protest. His face moves within an inch of mine, those gray eyes deepening to black. “You tempt me to madness on my final day in perdition, Anya?”
“It didn’t have to be this way.” I shrug off my jean jacket and let it drop to the ground, arching my back to draw his attention to my breasts. “All those times in your bed, late at night. No one would — ”
“Stop this,” he grinds out, pressing closer.
“No one would have known if you’d make me yours.”
“Everyone would have known within nine months, little angel. Once I gave in and fucked you, you’d have been taking my cum morning, noon and night.” Twin flames blaze to life in his eyes, evidence of the danger lurking inside this man who has cared for me for so long. “And make no mistake. You are already mine.”
Nine months. Nine. He means he would have gotten me pregnant. What about protection? We haven’t even kissed and he’s already talking about me having his children? There is so much that remains a mystery. Except for the fact that I want him.
And I know in the deepest part of my heart that Sasha would never, ever do something that wasn’t in my best interest. So I throw caution to the wind and incite his lust more. I want him to give me every ounce of it. “No. I’m not yours yet.” My hands trace the outline of his chest and abdomen muscles as they heave into my palms. “Why don’t you do something to change that?”
His voice is full of dark promise when he says, “Very well, angel.”
Those capable hands drop from the shelves, hanging at his sides as our foreheads meet. He rolls them together while his hot breath forms steam on my lips. How long is he going to keep his mouth a fraction of an inch from mine? Oh God. Every second he waits, bolts turn tight below my belly button, moisture collects inside my panties. Finally, his thumbs brush my hips and he grates a string of Russian words. His forehead grinds against mine. And just when I think I’m going to be left in suspense forever, Sasha slides his tongue into my mouth.
I make the most embarrassing sound and almost hit the floor, like the total rookie that I am. Tongue right off the bat? Isn’t there supposed to be some lip stuff to lead into the main event? Oh…my God. I don’t care. I just want more. And Sasha gives it to me. He catches me by the elbows and drags me back upright, wedging me between his made - of - stone body and the bookshelf, flicking his tongue against mine until I join him, mating our mouths in a rhythm that echoes in my pulse.
Who is this man? I thought I knew everything about him, right down to his preferred vodka and cologne of choice. I know which of my father’s associates make him stick closer to me when they’re around, his lack of a middle name, that he secretly enjoys watching Ellen. Did I know he could kiss like this? Uh, no.
His lips are only beginning to slant over mine, his tongue fully invading my mouth with full, sweeping licks, when his hands roam down my backside. This time, they don’t stop with a squeeze of my right cheek, though. No, his rough palms slide inside my panties and grasp both sides of my bottom firmly. Possessively. With a tortured, male sound, the kiss deepens…and my feet leave the ground. My legs move automatically to surround his hips as I’m dragged slowly — so slowly — up the length of his hardness. That private, untouched part of me rides from the root of Sasha’s manhood to the very top, where he keeps me.
“Some days I don’t know if I’ll survive without these thighs around me. Welcoming me,” he grates. “You jumped into my arms once…long ago. You could barely get your legs around me then, but you tried. You tried so hard. It was almost my undoing, Anya, standing there while you struggled to open them wide enough to fit my body.”
Flashes of memory bombard from all sides. Sasha’s curses, his flexing jaw. “I remember. You left. You…I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.”
“Nothing, angel. You’re never anything but too fucking right. I think even your father knew I went home to stroke my cock that afternoon.” His hands knead my backside with intention, and every muscle below my waist constricts, ripping a whimper from my throat. “This vow I made has almost been broken many times. I’d sell my soul to break it right now and slide my dick inside your tight cunt.”
“Oh,” I blurt, my head spinning from Sasha’s confessions. His filthy speech that somehow sounds oh - so - amazing. “Isn’t that what y - you’re going to do?”
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath, my eyes gone blind, until Sasha laughs a little against my mouth. There’s only the barest touch of humor in the sound, and an ocean full of agony. And with my clit bearing down on the thick tip of him, I’m totally sharing in that pain. Oh wow. My inner walls are clenching out of control, my thighs squirming around Sasha’s hips. Forget wet. I’m soaked. Can he feel that? He must. I can barely supply oxygen to my lungs and how dare he laugh? How…dare he…wait, what am I mad about again?
“Look at me now,” he growls, his accent thickening.
I shake my head to loosen the lust fuzz and focus on familiar gray eyes. Only they’re not so familiar right now. They’re more than a little wild, pupils dilated. “Yes?” I whisper.
“You will come to understand that I do not break my vows, Anya. I promised to keep you innocent, and soon I will promise to keep you. Period. I will have your pussy at five o’clock and no sooner.” His grip on my bottom strengthens. “Until then, soak me through, little angel.”
I’m about to question Sasha’s order when he rolls his hips and sparks go off behind my eyes. Like everything else he’s done since our kiss started, it’s sensual and smooth. His impossibly huge stiffness chafes the silk of my underwear in slow waves. Up and back. Up and back. Until I’m gasping for air and digging my nails into his shoulder, thighs shaking. Even my hair follicles are screaming with sensation. Oh God. Oh…
“Sasha.” My hips tweak to meet his next roll, and I hit my peak. Only it’s not just a peak. It’s the freaking Everest of orgasms, and my ears are ringing with the impact of it, because I’ve been waiting for this man to touch me since I can remember. “Sasha. Don’t stop.”
“Da. That’s a good angel.” Another sharp roll, only this time he grinds me down onto his steel bulge, sending me into another realm of pleasure I never knew was possible. Straight up into the clouds above Everest. “Make a mess of my pants. Leave me covered in that virgin smell.”
“Yes. Yes.” I can’t stop shaking, and his dark voice against my forehead, the ownership of his hands that continue to knead me, keep my climax rolling, letting it master me. And the boulder of feeling rocking me to the core knocks loose my deepest secret without warning. “I love you.” I cling to Sasha, working my clenching flesh on his hard lap. “I love you.”
I only catch a glimpse of Sasha’s flaring eyes before my back hits the bookshelf, his voice rasping in my ear. “Did you just say…” His chest shudders up and down. “Did you mean that?”
My neck loses power, sending my forehead dropping into the crook of his neck. “Yes. I always have. Always.”
Triumph and tenderness clash in his usually stoic face. “You have given me heaven, angel. Now I will return the favor.”
When Sasha peels me off the bookshelf and strides even farther into the dark, all I can think is, there’s more?
Chapter Four
Sasha
The angel loves me.
This is unexpected news.
My plan was to prove myself a worthy husband and give Anya the moon, if she so desired. Never in all my imaginings of our life together did I believe she could already love me…at the start. And not at the end, as I’d thought myself crazy to even hope for. As a young boy growing up in a cold home, with a single mother who toiled all hours to put meager helpings of food on the table, I learned that life does not dole out happiness often. Not this kind I’m feeling now, with Anya’s arms wrapped around my neck.
Like many boys in my neighborhood, I was recruited at a young age by a local Mafiya to increase his ranks. Ranks that constantly depleted due to violence in the Russian streets. On my first assignment at age twelve, I was ambushed by enemies, spending a full week in a basement without food but staunchly refusing to divulge secrets about my boss. Instead, I escaped with valuable information about my boss’s rival. And that loyalty earned me a top spot at the captain’s right hand. From that day forth, I dispensed with enemies to keep my family from going hungry. A part of me never left that basement, though. A part that discovered what a heartless, cut - throat place the world can be.
Anya has just brought that part of me back to life.
Nyet. That is wrong. She has been steadily reviving me since I laid eyes on her. But I never believed she could love me already. Not when I’ve only begun to show her the lengths I will go for her happiness.
“Where are you taking me?”
Her sweet, satisfied voice in my neck is like nectar from the gods. “Anya, I’ve only begun to pleasure you.” I can still feel her thighs spasming around my hips. Can still hear her whimpering my name, feel her cum drenching my pants. It’s still there, molding the fly of my pants to my pulsing cock. The on
e that strains to get inside its mate but nonetheless will remain neglected a few more torturous hours. “Your pussy loves Uncle Sasha’s attention, da?”
“Da,” she whispers, making me smile. “All the da.”
“This is good, angel. It’s had my attention for years.” Flashes of white sundresses and cartwheels in the grass make my cock ache even worse. “Only my eyes have been able to touch what I needed. We must wait a few hours more to satisfy the hell you’ve created in my pants. But we’re so close to completing my vow, I can’t resist a taste.”
I set her down on a long wooden table at the very back of the library, just as she murmurs, “Taste?”
I’ve barely managed to subdue my starvation for her cunt to a dull roar, but it overtakes me now, making her pussy necessary for my survival. She squeals a little when I shove her knees apart and slide a hand up between her tits, pushing her backwards on the table. And there it is, beckoning me from her flipped - up skirt, the part of her I dream about. Not a day has passed since I was hired by Anya’s father that she hasn’t flashed it at me, making my mouth water. Whether it was covered in jeans or barely concealed in panties or bikini bottoms, my anticipation of this moment has built and built each time. Finally, I’ll use my tongue on Anya’s pussy. Finally, I’ll know her texture, her sweetness.
“My mouth will be busy making you cum, so I can’t swallow your adorable noises this time.” I reach up under her skirt and slowly drag the wet little panties down her thighs. “Bunch the hem of your shirt and put it between your teeth.”
Her fingers are clumsy as she follows my instructions, and something squeezes in my chest. Mine. My angel is clumsy because she doesn’t know a man’s mouth. Someday she will bat her eyelashes at me and let her thighs fall open in our bed, because I will have addicted her to being licked. By me. Only ever me.