by Kresley Cole
I traced the gathered edge of one of my boots. “After what we did, I thought you’d get in touch with me.” Like a grifter, he’d given me a taste, then he’d become elusive.
“I went downstairs tonight, thinking you would be at the casino, or that Peter would be.”
I had told Dmitri I might be working. “But no call?”
“The day slipped by me. I was very . . . distracted. I did call three hours ago.”
We’d probably just gotten here. My phone was in my purse. “Do you want a drink?”
He eased even closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “No. I have to keep control.”
“Why?”
“Last night I considered doing things to you . . . things that would’ve unnerved you even more. Had I been drinking, I would have.”
“Like what?” I asked, intrigued.
“I wanted to get my mouth on you and prove that you would love oral sex. I wanted to whip you even harder, to make you feel me for longer. I wanted to sink inside the flesh I stroked and fuck you till you screamed.”
My breaths shallowed.
“I was nearly overpowered. I hadn’t been with anyone for some time, and all of a sudden I was with you.” His penetrating eyes said so much, but my buzz blurred the message.
“How long had it been?”
“A very long time. I could argue that I had been waiting on you.”
Guh. “What do you want from me, Dmitri?” I met his gaze as I closed the last little distance to him. “Just tell me, and we’ll see if we want the same things.”
He stared into my eyes, his pupils dilating. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Then don’t make it complicated. Just bottom-line it for me.”
“I must have more of what happened last night,” he said, his words laden with raw need.
I leaned in and drunkenly whispered, “You want to drench my tits again?”
He hissed, “Mercy,” then yanked me across his lap, settling me over his hard cock.
The heat of his erection reached me through our clothes, and my lids went heavy. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I wriggled on him.
He inhaled sharply. “I want more of you. More access to you.”
His words reminded me of my earlier loneliness and turmoil. “But you didn’t call me?” I murmured, sounding drunk and sad. “If you’d called, we could’ve talked. We could’ve gotten to know each other better.”
“I was not . . . feeling like myself. Do you think I didn’t want to talk to you? I feared I would spook you. I’m told I can be overly . . . intense.”
“Is that what all the girls say?”
“It’s what anyone says.”
Though he was dressed as immaculately as ever and clean-shaven, he’d nicked his face in a few places. On a scale between pissed and worried, I tipped toward on the latter. “Why weren’t you feeling like yourself?” Had something happened? My protectiveness toward him lingered.
“I fought with my brother Maksim.”
“I’m sorry. You seem close to him.”
“I am. After our parents died, he basically raised me.”
Why wouldn’t the oldest brother have done that? “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Maksim stuck his nose into my business.” Pure menace burned in his eyes as he said, “And then he told me I will likely lose something I want very, very dearly.”
This conversation had strange depths. Once again on this con, I was drunk and at a disadvantage.
“I asked my family to leave,” he said.
“Yet you stayed? For the opportunity you’re investigating?”
He nodded, his gaze softening. “Da.” He surveyed the area, exhaling a gust of breath. “I didn’t plan for this.”
“Do you always plan everything?”
“When something is important to me, yes.” He grasped my nape, bringing our foreheads together. I loved when he did that. He seemed to carefully choose his words as he said, “Confusion is not . . . good for me. I handle it . . . badly.” His voice was halting, and he looked a little crazy. “I need things solidified. How do I solidify things with you?”
His idea of solidifying couldn’t possibly match mine—unless the billionaire was talking about a commitment after knowing me for a day. “You’re bringing up confusion, Dmitri? You’re sending my brain spinning here.”
“Come back to my room with me.”
Wow, right when I thought he was interested in more than sex.
Which meant I shouldn’t be interested in more than money. The con was back on. Time to plant some more good-girl seeds. “That’s not going to happen. I gave you the wrong impression last night. I don’t know why I behaved like that.” Truth. “But there won’t be a repeat.” Lie.
He gave me his thrall look. “Indulge me, and I will indulge you.” Did he mean financially? Or sexually?
Because I was drunk, I answered by burying my face against his neck and inhaling him. “Your scent drives me absolutely wild. If you ever got me in your bed, I’d probably just roll around in your sheets and masturbate.”
He groaned. “I never want to stop seeing that in my head.”
When I dragged my head back to face him, his hooded expression made me shiver. I rubbed his chest, loving how his muscles twitched in response. “You must work out.”
“Religiously for the last year.”
“Lemme guess,” I said drily, “you just aren’t hot enough?”
“I work out to focus my mind, not to affect my looks. You are obviously attracted to me,” he said, as if my attraction was all that mattered.
“Cocky much? What if I was faking?”
“You were too aroused to have feigned that. And I would wager you thought about me when you got off today.”
“Yep. I did, a few times. In the shower, I fingered myself and came so hard my knees buckled.”
“Mercy, woman!” he said again, his cock jerking beneath me. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Oh, but I do. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a smidge hammered. Will you take care of me?”
Curt nod. “Without fail.”
I grinned at him. “I like that. You won’t take advantage of me? I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“So you have said.” His tone held a hint of disbelief.
“I’m not looking for an affair—even if you wanted a longer arrangement.”
“What are you looking for?” He seemed very curious about my answer.
“A man to prove himself to me.” I could say those words believably. Even though I knew my hurdles were simply too high.
“Then I won’t fuck you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t touch you. I need to give you pleasure so much I ache.” He reached for me.
“Here?” In the Carousel? We were alone in this darkened area, but for how long?
“Here.”
CHAPTER 11
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Dmitri grazed the backs of his fingers over my jawline, then down my neck. “You could not be lovelier.”
I trembled as he traced my collarbone. His hand continued lower. He unzipped my dress until my breasts threatened to spill out—exactly the way I’d imagined when I’d designed it.
His hot hand slipped inside, cupping me. I arched to his touch, and he bit out something in Russian. I could have sworn I’d heard his name at the end.
Was he talking to himself? My question and concern dissipated when he rubbed his thumb over one nipple. Jolts of pleasure shot through me as he rolled the peak, lightly pinching. Then harder.
With a last tug, he moved to my other breast and kneaded it. “Spread your legs wide for me.”
I let one knee fall open.
He ran his other hand up my inner thigh. Higher. He brushed his knuckles along my sensitive skin. Higher. He reached my wet pussy. “You’re not wearing panties?” he snapped. I thought he’d be delighted—not infuriated.
“Which man was to enjoy this surprise? The one you were dancing with earlier?”
“Maybe next time you’ll call me.”
“Maybe I will teach you to want only me.” His half-crazy expression was back. “I am the only one who knows what you need.”
Hadn’t I already suspected he was my key? Apparently, he suspected the same. “Tell me what I need, Dmitri.”
“I’m about to show you.”
“But I want to touch you.” I dipped my hand down.
“Ah-ah.” He seized my wrist, placing my hand on his chest. “This is for you alone.”
“Maybe you think I’ll get so turned on I won’t care if you fuck me.”
“I want to see you that abandoned.” His voice was low, his eyes hypnotic. “But tonight I’m only touching you, Vika. Submit to my wishes.”
Vika. The endearment of my name. Strike sexy. He was molten. At that moment, I yearned to submit to this man. But a show of resistance was in order. “Why am I always the one feeling vulnerable? I’ve shared more of myself than you have.”
“Share? What if I tell you a secret? Would that suffice?”
“Try me and see.”
In a husky tone, he said, “I jerked off in the limo on the way back from your apartment. I wanted your taste on my tongue when I came again. Two strokes later, I ejaculated into my cupped palm, licking my lips for you.”
A breath shuddered out of my lungs. I repeated his words: “I never want to stop seeing that in my head.”
He might’ve given me a micro-smile, but it faded when he teased my entrance with a fingertip. “Do you want it inside?” Somehow he grew even harder beneath me.
“Yes,” I panted. “Yes. . . .”
He adjusted my body so we faced the same way, my spread legs over his knees, his hands resting on my thighs. “Then raise your arms and clasp your hands behind my neck. Keep them there no matter what I do.”
I had no choice; I obeyed.
“Good girl.” In reward, he sank his middle finger between my soaked lips.
I cried out as my pussy contracted around it.
He gave a rumbly groan. “Ah, God, you are tight. And so slick for me. You love to come, don’t you?” He rotated his finger inside, stirring me. Then he began to wedge in a second one. “There you go,” he rasped. “Take them for me into your sweet little pussy. Do you want me to finger-fuck you? Then take them both deep.”
That dirty talk in his sexy accent made me melt!
With his other hand, he pressed down on my pubic bone and above, which made the fingers inside me feel even bigger. He withdrew them, then thrust. Again. And again. “I would give anything to replace these with my cock.”
My body ached for that hot, swollen rod. Though he hadn’t touched my clit, I already neared the brink. “Dmitri, I need to come!”
He ignored my plea, never increasing his maddening pace. He twisted his fingers as they plunged, then twisted them again as he withdrew.
I marveled at his skill. Even as he gave me more pleasure than I’d ever felt, in the back of my mind, I wondered how I was going to live without this.
As if he’d read my thoughts, he said, “You’re going to have to keep me around just for this. You fingered your pussy in the shower, but you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t twist and get deep, hitting all these sensitive spots.”
“Make me come, please!” Or fuck me. I imagined him impaling me on his big, pierced dick.
“I will. Eventually.” He made a beckoning gesture deep inside me.
I shot upright. “Oh! Ohhh. I can’t take much more of this!” I could bring myself off in a nanosecond, was tempted to. Yet I kept my arms back. “I know what I said about sex, but I didn’t mean it! Do you have condoms? I’m on birth control, but we should probably double-up.”
Between breaths, he said, “I’ve never had sex without one, so I can with you.” He wasn’t lying.
“Does that mean we’re going to?” My tone couldn’t have been more eager.
He groaned again. “I would do murder to fuck you. Think of what I’d do to possess you completely.”
I gasped—because I didn’t think he was lying about that either.
“Which means I must keep my word.”
I panted with frustration. He’d kept me hovering right at the brink for what must be years! “I’m going to come apart!”
“That’s the idea. This is BDSM,” he said at my ear. “Dominance, edging, play. I won’t always whip you.” He withdrew his fingers.
“Nooo! Need those. Put them back in.”
He used two fingers to make a V around my clit, trapping it, pressing the sensitive nub outward.
I undulated over his lap, his cock. “Touch it,” I whispered, “touch it. Baby, please, please touch my throbbing clit.”
With a growling sound, he used his other forefinger to slowly rub the exposed flesh.
My head lolled back against him.
“You would do anything for me right now, wouldn’t you, beautiful?”
I made unintelligible sounds. He owned me. He controlled me.
This man had broken through all my barriers until I was nothing more than raw, dripping need.
My approaching orgasm felt bigger than ever before. Deeper.
Frightening.
Right when I was about to crash over the edge, I spied a man enter through the curtain. “S-stop, Dmitri. We’re not alone.” I dropped my arms.
The guy—a blond surfer type—told someone unseen, “Back here.”
A pretty redhead and a handsome dark-haired male followed. They looked as buzzed as I felt. The trio sat across the room from us in another booth. The two men put the redhead between them.
They would be able to see me from the waist up! My tits were nearly spilling out, lit by the glowing collar I wore. “You can’t do this!” I hissed to Dmitri, even as I rolled my hips.
“They can’t see underneath our table. Do you really want me to stop?” He kept rubbing. “Say, ‘Dmitri, stop touching my pussy.’”
I couldn’t say the words, couldn’t do more than whimper.
The three glanced over. Dmitri’s arm was moving. They had to know what he was doing.
The guys cast me wolfish looks, and their hands caressed down Red’s body. She met gazes with me, then her eyes shot wide. We were both getting fingered in this room—and we both knew it.
Red’s lids soon grew heavy. She didn’t seem to mind an audience.
Did I look as turned on as she did? Was Dmitri aroused by the girl? I glanced at him. His eyes were locked on me.
I murmured, “I can’t let you do this.”
“Of course you can.” He was a devil in my ear, mesmerizing me with his thrall.
Of course I can. No! Vice, get hold of yourself.
“We won’t be doing anything they’re not,” he continued. “This situation heats your blood, doesn’t it? Then surrender to it, Vika. To me. Put your hands behind my head again.”
Such a vulnerable position in front of others.
“Do it, or I won’t let you come.”
Nooo! Shaking, I reached up and locked my hands again. In reward, he pinched my nipples through my dress, giving me a shock of sensation. I had to stifle a cry.
Red put her arms back too, but the dark-haired guy upped the ante, tugging down her sheath dress to bare her perky breasts.
The girl liked being exposed. She arched her back, and I could tell she was rocking her hips on her partners’ fingers.
As I stared, her hands descended—as did the zipper of my dress. Dmitri was going to bare me too? This couldn’t be happening.
I wanted to die of humiliation. Or come. Again everything got confused in my mind, and the embarrassment fueled my arousal.
I tensed to stop him, but then I realized both of Red’s hands were moving under the table. She was jacking off both guys.
While all three stared at me.
“This is . . . wicked,” I whispered. Forbidden.
“
Submit to me,” Dmitri grated. “I am giving you what you need—because you are a wicked girl.”
Dmitri was making me into one. Suddenly, I was arching my back. “Yes, yes . . .”
He peeled the dress wide, uncovering my tits.
The others’ reactions—hooded lids and parted lips—made my nipples even harder. Dmitri himself was virtually a stranger to me, and now three others were getting a show.
“Feel how wet you’re getting!” he murmured, doing those heavenly/sinful things with his fingers. “You crave their eyes on you.”
I did! This primal need to be controlled by him—and watched by others—pulsed through me.
Sensing my surrender, he nuzzled my ear. “Doesn’t it feel good when you do as I say?”
My moans grew constant. I was going to dissolve in front of these strangers. I shook so hard my breasts quivered for my audience.
Dmitri pulled my head back to his chest with a decisive tug on my hair, which made me—and Red—cry out. “You want them to know how wet you are, don’t you?” He delved those two fingers deep inside me as his thumb worked my clit.
“Ahhh!” So close, so close . . . Oh, dear God, four people were going to watch me come.
“Shall I show them my fingers glistening from your pussy?”
“No, nooo.” My face heated just to think of it. Showing my tits was one thing—I’d been known to flash them myself—but not something so intimate!
Yet Dmitri brought his soaked fingers up, revealing them by the light of my neon collar. Red gave a cry at the sight and writhed. The dark-haired guy groaned, and his body jerked. The blond bit out a curse, gritting his teeth, struggling not to come.
I went wild. Couldn’t catch my breath. About to lose my mind. “Gonna . . . scream. Don’t let me . . . scream.”
“I won’t. Just take a taste. Then I’ll bring you off.” His other hand took over, frigging my clit as he brought his wet fingers to my mouth. With his hot breaths against my neck, he commanded, “Suck.”
So fucking forbidden. Would I really do this in front of others? I couldn’t form sentences. “How . . . you . . .” I trailed off, whispering, “What’s happening to me?”
“Obey, Vika.”