by Kresley Cole
“Yes, we’ve reconciled,” he said, his thoughts still clearly mired in the past.
I wanted to jolt him back to the present. With me. “Hey, big guy, did you have a near-death experience about a year ago?”
His gaze snapped to my face. “Why would you say that?”
“You started talking to Aleks, you began working out, and you got the idea to try BDSM. You also got pierced.” So that things would be different. “Did you make any other changes?”
“Yes. Many. It was time for me to.” Making his tone lighter, he said, “Come, let’s speak of happier things. If you didn’t work at the Calydon, what would you do?”
He hadn’t answered my near-death question, but I let it go. “I would design and create clothing. I made this dress you both love and hate. I make all my clothes.”
He raised his brows. “You must want to pursue your talent.”
Another instance of gazing at the stars. I was past that.
Even if my pack wasn’t in crisis mode, I needed health insurance, for fuck’s sake. At the very least, my own personal credit-card cloning machine wouldn’t go amiss. Please, Santa, please.
Everyone in my family was sacrificing. We all had dreams we’d put on hold. Karin wanted to save up and be a full-time mom. Al and Gram had been planning to go on a world cruise to fleece obnoxious tourists and teach them never to travel again. Mom and Dad dreamed of owning a real art collection to replace the scam props littering the house. Benji, with his artistic soul, wanted to pick up a camera and document wildlife, instead of degenerates. And Pete . . .
Actually, Pete was delighted with his plum new position at the Caly.
I told Dmitri, “We all have dreams, huh?”
He canted his head. “I am starting to believe that.”
The server came back to refill our wine. Had I downed a glass? I struggled to resist Dmitri in the best of circumstances. If I had a couple of drinks, he could make me plead for it. Again.
The idea of begging turned me on so swiftly, my face grew heated once more.
“Tell me about your hobbies,” he said. “Do you ride horses?”
Eyes on the prize, Vice. “Um, not in a while.” Not since we’d worked a real estate con near a ranch in neighboring California. My family had hated being away from Vegas; not me. “Do you ride?”
“I once did, avidly. I’m thinking about picking it up again.” Must be nice. “Do you like the seaside?”
“Dunno. I’ve never been to one.”
“How can that be? Would you like to travel more?”
“Sure. We have so many replicas of other places here. I’d love to see the Giza pyramids or a real castle or the Eiffel Tower. Just getting a first stamp in my passport would be huge for me.” Hell, I’d be happy to drive back to Cali. I always said if I won the lottery I’d get a vacation place there. “But I could never stay away long. My family’s here. Sunday dinner is mandatory. You only get to miss a few a year.”
“You must be very close to them.”
“They’re everything to me.”
“You are loyal to those you love,” he said quietly.
“I will be till I die.” I had a catalog of faults, but I possessed loyalty in spades. Once I identified someone as part of my pack, I always would. “‘To the grave’ is our family motto.” That also described how long we Valentines kept secrets.
Dmitri’s lips almost curved again, the closest that man came to smiling, and he raised his glass to me. “A toast to loyalty.”
I clinked glasses with him.
The intensity of his stare made me feel awkward, so I cast about for something to say. “I couldn’t find much about you online.”
“I work to keep it that way.”
As I suspected. So what was he hiding? More than his eccentricity? “Are you a ‘have more than thou showest, say less than thou knowest’ kind of guy?” Grifters lived by those words.
“Ah, Shakespeare’s King Lear.”
I grinned. I shouldn’t be surprised Dmitri recognized the quote. My mark was scarily brilliant. “So what do you do now? Since you’ve already finished a lifetime of work?”
“Now I’m a steward for my own holdings.”
“I think that’s a non-braggy way to say you oversee a financial empire ’cause you’re so rich.”
He inclined his head. “I’ve got it down to a science, actually. I can work an hour a day from anywhere. I’ve decided it’s time to enjoy myself more.”
“Doing what? What are you looking for out of life?”
“The same as most men. A wife and a couple of children.”
I couldn’t believe he’d admitted to wanting a wife. And he’d also revealed yet another way we didn’t fit: kids. “A family of your own, huh?”
“Wealth is meaningless without loved ones to spend it on.”
“I’ll have to take your word about the wealth. Though I am surprised you haven’t settled down then.”
“I hadn’t met the right woman.”
Hadn’t met? As in, he had now.
He’d told me he wanted to get something solidified, but that was a far cry from settled down and having kids. Lucía, Natalie, and Jess had gone on about Sevastyans falling at first sight. Could Dmitri truly think I was the one for him?
No, no. Russian was his first language; he’d probably mistaken the tense of the verb. Or I’d misheard him.
So why was he looking at me so keenly. . . ?
CHAPTER 16
________________________________________
___________________________________
As Dmitri and I talked over more wine and shared a decadent tiramisu, I discovered we did have a few things in common.
We liked some of the same art and books and even some of the same music. He didn’t laugh or smile, but he did have a sense of humor. “Perhaps you’ll be the one to make me appreciate eighties hits,” he’d said, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “My tutors failed at every turn.” Whenever he almost smiled, my body grew tingly.
Now that I was more in tune with his moods and expressions, we’d found a comfortable ebb and flow. But sometimes I would sense that social discomfort, as if he was out of practice conversing.
What a confusing, complicated man. Polished at times, but unpracticed at others. Gorgeous, yet oblivious to the babes sighing as they passed our cabana. Brilliant, but he couldn’t read people. . . .
When my phone started vibrating in my purse, I figured it was growing late and everyone wanted an update. “I should be getting home.”
He signaled for the check. “Tomorrow I am taking you on a trip. We will spend the week anywhere you want to go.”
After last night’s detour, I was back to step five: gradually making my desires known. “I have to work. As much as I’d like to, I can’t live in the Porsche you bought me.”
He grew very still as he said, “I want to take care of you.” In a way, he was pitching me too.
I playfully asked, “Dmitri, are you offering to be my sugar daddy?” In Sin City, the going rate was a bauble an orgasm.
He gazed at me as if he sensed a verbal trap. “I want . . . not to send you running from me again.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”
He sighed. “I have more money than I could possibly ever spend, but it brings me no enjoyment. Being with you does, and so I crave time with you. I resent your work for keeping me from what I want. Will you accept more from me?”
Holy shit! I’d never dreamed of a mark like this. The richest, hottest man I’d ever met was teed up for the kill. But my doubts flared again. The nicer he was to me, the harder this job felt. “Why don’t we slow things down a little?” said the con artist to the unbalanced billionaire.
He looked frustrated. “I’m spooking you.”
“You must be leaving Vegas soon.”
He seemed to be weighing his words. Finally he said, “Not without you.”
My jaw slackened.
“That was one of th
ose things I shouldn’t have said aloud, isn’t it?”
Red flags waved all over the place. “This is going too fast.” I struggled for equilibrium.
“Compared to most other couples? Yes. But you and I are both aware of what’s happening.”
I sputtered, “Spell it out for me, big guy.”
“You are going to be mine,” he said. “Exclusively. You’re as good as already.”
I blew out a breath. “Exclusively.” I was supposed to manipulate him over the finish line. This was supposed to take all of my cunning and skill, and assistance from all kinds of rogues across the underbelly of Sin City.
Dmitri was offering himself up for the taking!
It must be a ploy of some kind. My eyes narrowed. Of course! “This is very convenient.” I glared at him.
He looked perplexed. “Now I definitely can’t read you.”
“You promise no sex, hinting about a relationship first. Then, coincidentally, you tell me you happen to want a relationship. Right now! Even though you’ve never had one before. Why, we could sleep with each other this very night!”
“You beautiful stubborn girl,” he said. “I’m not in this merely for sex. I swear to you I won’t fuck you until you are mine alone.” His eyes flashed. “Tonight, you will beg for me inside you, and somehow I will deny myself yet again.”
I studied his face. I could get this guy to marry me. But without a prenup?
It’d be the ultimate con on a billionaire mark. . . .
________________________________________
___________________________________
Back in the limo, he dragged me into his lap.
I wanted to curl into him and soak up his heat, but I needed to tantalize. “Why do you keep putting me in your lap?”
“Tell me you don’t fit me perfectly, and I will stop.” He started to harden beneath me.
“You said I’d beg for you tonight. You just assume we’ll be intimate?”
“With the way you eye-fucked me all through dinner?” I realized he was playing with me when a glint of humor shone in his eyes. “We’re not only going to be intimate. I’m going to show you how much you’ll enjoy bondage.”
Was I curious? Of course. But I didn’t think I was ready to give up all control. “I’m not sure.”
“You have a safe word,” he said, but his tone held a challenge, as if he dared me not to use it. “You’ll either say it, or you’ll surrender to me.”
I tore my gaze from his face and glanced out the window. “Why are we headed toward my apartment?”
“I want to see where you live.”
Just in case, I’d stowed anything grift-y, and I’d told my family it was off limits. “My place is lame.”
He brought our foreheads together in that way I loved. It made me feel connected to him. Too connected. “You won’t be there much longer, Vika.” Because he wanted to do something about my living situation!
“If you’re so determined to tie me up, you should know I’m fresh out of bondage gear.”
“You’d be surprised what I could improvise with. All I need is a scarf, maybe a couple of belts. I’m sure someone with your interest in clothes will have the items I require.”
“If not for sex, then why would you want to tie me up?”
“To get to the dessert I truly crave.” His cock pulsated beneath me.
I just stopped myself from rubbing my ass against it. “What exactly does that mean?”
He held my gaze as he rasped, “That means I am going to kiss your wet little pussy until your thighs tremble and you drench my tongue. I won’t stop until you scream for me.”
I swallowed. Despite my misgivings, I was so torn.
Because part of me desperately needed a screaming orgasm from this man.
Then reality returned. “I told you I wasn’t interested.”
“Denying me again? Why?”
My cheeks heated as I admitted, “I can’t come from oral sex.”
“Not all of your blushes are the same. I’m going to learn every one.” He reached up and began to pull pins from my hair.
“I’m serious, Dmitri.” I jutted my chin. “Statistically, I’m not alone.”
“You say you can’t simply because you never have before?” As he unbraided my hair, his watchful gaze followed the movements of his hands. I got the impression he’d never freed a woman’s hair before, and wanted to get it right.
“After the last two nights, do I believe you could make oral sex feel amazing? Absolutely. But I’m just not built to orgasm from it. The average woman takes twenty minutes to come like that, and I’m not average.”
“You are in no way average, moy ángel.” Another braid loosened.
“Which means I would be stressed out because you would be down there wearing out your tongue and inwardly cursing my name. So when would you call it a defeat? We could set a timer.”
Once he’d unbound my hair, he ran his fingers through it. “I see what the problem is.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned in to murmur at my ear, “You believe I would be eating you out for your pleasure instead of for mine.”
CHAPTER 17
________________________________________
___________________________________
I hadn’t said my safe word when he’d pressed me back naked in my bed. I’d remained silent as he’d used a scarf to tie my wrists to the headboard.
But now, when he snapped one of my leather belts, I was tempted to scream, “Cognac!”
“I don’t know about this.” So why was my voice so throaty?
“You know your choices.” Still dressed, he stalked around the bed, his eyes dark and fierce, like an animal surveying a meal it was about to devour.
I had called him a beast just two nights ago. Felt like ages had passed.
When he licked his lips, I shivered and my nipples puckered tighter.
His predator’s gaze locked on them, noting my response. “Your body wants more. Safe word or surrender. One or the other.”
Fucking Russki. In the club, I hadn’t known what I was getting into, but now I did. Refusing to flinch, I followed his gaze from my aching breasts to my hair fanning out, then to my eyes, to my lips. Back to my breasts, before dipping lower . . .
“Bend your knees and bring your heels up against your ass.”
“We can do other things, Dmitri,” I said, though I’d brought my heels up.
He wrapped my braided belt around the middle of my thigh and my shin, securing one leg in a bent position. “Nyet. You said I’d inwardly curse your name? You’ll outwardly curse mine. Understand me, Vika, I will kiss you for as long as I like.” Then he secured my other leg with a second belt. “If you come without permission, I will keep tonguing you with no care for how sensitive you’ll be.”
Though this sounded titillating, I wasn’t sold. My head fell to the side, and I sighed. I should just fake it.
Brett had gone down on me one night early in our relationship, and I’d known it wasn’t in the cards, but he’d kept trying, so I’d faked it.
And he’d still massaged his jaw and waggled it with an adorable grin that had made me feel awful. Sex shouldn’t hurt.
Dmitri Sevastyan was a mark; why should I care how he felt? “You can still back out.”
“I’ve made sure you cannot.” He’d bound me tight as hell.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Or, rather, that he was doing this to me.
“Unless you use your safe word,” he added. “Otherwise I won’t relent until you’ve come so many times I pity your tender pussy.”
“You expect multiple times?”
“The only thing I expect of you this night is your submission.” He sat beside my waist, facing my feet, stretching a possessive arm over my torso.
His fingers brushed over my mound. “Never remove this light hair of yours. It drives me wild.” He ogled me so close I could feel his breaths. “Let your legs fall wide. Show
me where you’re wet.”
Face heating, I . . . did. I had to bite back a moan when my damp labia parted for him.
He bit out, “You are exquisite. I’m going to learn every inch of you.”
The idea of his eyes on me, roaming over my most secret place, made my spread pussy quiver.
He must have seen it because he gave a rumbling groan. “You need to do as I say, don’t you?”
Yes. My nipples were so hard, my areolas were raised. My breaths had shallowed. I felt myself getting even wetter, my folds swelling. “I’m trusting you with this.”
“Your trust humbles me, Vika.” He sat up on the bed and removed his jacket, tossing it onto my cheap office chair.
Would I finally see him naked?
He bent to remove his shoes; I heard the creak of costly leather. When he stood, I watched his every movement in fascination.
His clothes were like art to me. He was art to me.
As he shrugged out of his shirt, I was treated to the sound and scent of its starchy crispness. The long lean muscles of his arms flexed as his broad chest was revealed.
My gaze drank him in. His pecs were rigid planes of muscle, his torso defined perfection. Just following the black trail of hair leading down from his navel had me rocking my hips.
He undid his belt and unzipped with fingers that looked masculine and rugged—especially with his busted knuckles—yet they’d played me like an instrument the night before.
His slacks whispered down his muscular legs, his buckle pinging as it hit the floor. His cock bulged in his gray boxer briefs, and sexy precum wetted the material. I could make out the shape of his piercing.
He pulled off those briefs, and his dick bobbed. Oh, my God. He stood before me naked, shoulders squared, letting me look. His body was a bonanza. His shaft jutted ramrod straight, the crown taut. His balls were large and looked in need of cupping. Would he like it if I gently tugged on them?
Or even, not so gently? My fingers clenched and unclenched.
He stalked beside the bed, looming over me. As I gazed up at him, his veined length pulsed so hard it jerked.