by Daiko, SC
“This won’t be a permanent arrangement. It can’t be and I’m going against my better judgement.” He touched his finger to my chin, lifting it so he could stare into my eyes. “I’ve never done this with any of my staff.”
The reminder I was merely an employee should have stopped me in my tracks, but it didn’t. “Why do you want to, Taras?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“You’re incredibly forthright,” he laughed. “Your body called to me last night.” His hungry eyes raked over my breasts. “I want to explore every inch of you and make you come so many times you see stars.”
My knees started to give way at his words. “I’m not on birth control,” I blurted out.
He grasped me by the shoulders, his gaze firm. “I can’t father any more children. I’ve had a vasectomy. I’m clean, by the way, I have regular checks.”
My mouth dropped open with surprise. Why would he have had the snip? And did he fuck so many women he needed regular check-ups? His expression had darkened, though, so I wasn’t about to ask. Not now, anyway. “I haven’t been with anyone since Harry,” I said, and left it at that.
“Good,” he smiled wolfishly.
He walked me toward his chair, then sat me between his legs, my back to him. “Lean against me, rybka.”
“What’s that word mean?” I risked the question.
“Little fish,” he said gruffly. “We Russians are fond of pet names.” He lifted my hair and kissed my nape. “Silence now. I prefer to let our bodies do the talking.”
Still holding my hair up in an improvised pony, he nuzzled and sucked behind my neck. If I hadn’t been sandwiched between his legs, I’d have collapsed in a puddle of desire; the ache between my thighs all but consumed me.
I hissed out a breath.
Slowly, he undid the button at the top of my dress, then unzipped the back so it crumpled to the floor. I kicked off my shoes and leaned against him again.
He moved his hands to my breasts, lifting my bra so he could play with my tits. Oh, God, it felt amazing. I groaned with ecstasy as he tugged at my nipples. With a snap he unclipped my bra and threw it across the room.
I waited for him to touch me again, but he tantalized me by delaying a few seconds. Seconds that seemed like an eternity. Finally, yes, yes, yes, he moved his fingers up and down my body, as if I was his cello. The comparison made me smile. He was an expert musician and an expert lover. I relaxed in his hold, giving myself up to the pleasure, every inch of me coming alive at his touch.
He pulled down my panties and I was naked for him, unashamedly so. I was floating on a cloud of desire, my pussy pulsing with need. “Please, Taras,” I moaned.
“Shh, rybka. I know…”
I opened my thighs, my breaths coming short and fast. “Ah, ah, ah,” I panted as he teased my lower lips apart and sought entrance.
I felt him insert a finger and I clenched around him, rocking my hips as he rubbed inside me with one digit and stroked the nub of my clit with the other. He was still nuzzling my neck, his hot breath ticking my ear. I shut my eyes and rasped out a moan.
Two fingers inside me now, slipping in and out, exploring me, grazing my clit. A third finger and my entire body quivered. I reached behind me and snaked my hands down his powerful thighs. The pressure was intensifying, spiraling me toward release.
He set up a rhythm, diving in and out, pressing onto my nub with each stroke. “Good girl. Let yourself go.”
My belly fluttered, and my knees buckled into his upstroke. Numbness spread through me, then a swelling tremor.
He slowed down, teasing me, just before the upwelling explosion overtook. “Faster, please, faster,” I whimpered.
“Since you beg so sweetly,” he grunted, both hands stroking. Two fingers circling my clit, three thrusting into me.
A rocketing surge of heat and I was there, the orgasm unlike any I’d experienced before. Wave after wave of electrical currents making every cell in my body scream, YES!!!
I collapsed against him, my breathing ragged. He turned me, hooked his hand in my hair, and brought me to his mouth. Hot, wet kisses, his needy tongue capturing mine, then probing hard and deep. I gasped as he pulled away to kiss down my neck, his hands palming my breasts and pushing them upward.
Without warning, he got to his feet and sat me on his chair, pulling my thighs wide and kneeling between my legs. Jesus, was he going to try and make me come again? I’d never come more than once with Harry, and then only after a lot of work on his part.
It just took a couple of seconds, and I was writhing for Taras once more. He licked at my sensitive clit and I let out a sharp hiss. His warm heavy breath vibrated and sent shivers through me. Then he was tongue fucking me while he sucked on my nub. Oh. My. God. I drew in labored breaths, shocked at the sensations. I climaxed before I could even think about it, the tremors chasing through me with a force that made me gasp.
He looked up at me, and I stared down at him, at my release glistening on his chin. Our eyes locked, and they said more than words ever could.
Desire.
He wanted me.
And I wanted him.
He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and carried me to his bed. He lay down beside me, still fully clothed. “Undress me, rybka.”
I didn’t need asking twice. My hands flew everywhere, unbuttoning his shirt, unbuckling his belt, sliding off his pants and then his briefs. I stared at his engorged cock. Fuck, it was gorgeous. Thick, and long, and twitching under my fingers. I bent and wrapped my lips around the head, loving the feel of the silky smoothness over the hardness under my tongue.
Groaning, he moved his hands under my arms to slide me up his body. “I want to come in your sweet pussy, Zoe.”
He flipped me onto my back, spread my legs wide and kneeled between them. Resting his weight on one hand, he slid the other down to pinch my clit and probe my opening, smearing my earlier cum over my lower lips and rubbing me until I was ready for him again.
He took his time, nudging with the tip of his shaft, watching the look of pleasure on my face as he eased himself into me, inch by glorious inch, until he’d buried himself to the hilt.
I slid my hands down his back, my fingers digging into his flesh.
He kissed me, tongue over tongue, teeth grazing lips.
The first thrust was slow, like he was savoring the way my muscles clenched around him, stretching to accommodate him. I could see the delirious look in his eyes; the euphoria was present and just as ecstatic in my own, I was sure.
With one hand gripping my hair tight, and the other lightly wrapped around my throat, he brought his weight down on me. He moved hard and fast, an unrelenting force that knocked the breath out of me.
In and out.
Filling me to the brim one second.
Emptying me the next.
I pressed my tits against his hard pecs and sought the feeling of fullness, loving the sharp pain alternating with the pleasure, until they were both so entwined that I couldn’t tell which of the two I preferred.
He spoke to me in Russian as he fucked me, breaking his rule of silence, and I moaned at the words even though I didn’t know what they meant.
Dropping his head between my neck and shoulders, he fucked me to oblivion and back until I climaxed a third time, calling out, “Taras!”
He smashed his lips against mine, swallowing his name as he stilled abruptly inside me. He came hard with a heavy groan. The sound was so erotic, my insides fluttered.
We were panting slick bodies after that, each coming down from our endorphin high. My mouth had turned dry from the rasping breaths I was taking.
He slid off me and I watched him through dazed eyes as he stood up, his naked body in plain sight.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
Sweat shone on his swarthy skin, every scar and ridge of muscle more pronounced.
He picked up his briefs and put them on.
Was this a cue for me to leave?
Quickly, I slid off th
e mattress and searched for my panties.
He handed them to me, with the rest of my clothes, standing back while I dressed.
We stared at each other, lost for words.
He bent and kissed the top of my head. “Dobroy nochi, rybka. Good night.”
“Good night, Taras,” I responded coldly, looking down at my feet. “Sleep well.”
My legs wobbling, I thanked my lucky stars Emma was fast asleep and there was no one else in the house as I made my walk of shame upstairs.
What the hell had I just done?
In my room, I let out a wail of regret.
I’d been such an idiot.
Chapter Twelve
Zoe
I took a shower and washed Taras’ release out of me, fuming at the way he’d dismissed me like I was a plaything to be used and then discarded.
My own stupid fault.
His words reverberated in my head.
This won’t be a permanent arrangement. It can’t be and I’m going against my better judgement.
The warm water beat down; I reached for the nozzle and sprayed between my legs. Ouch, it stung. My pussy felt swollen and tender. Taras had fucked me so hard, and I’d loved every second. But now… now the sensible Zoe was telling reckless Zoe she’d made a big mistake, one she must never repeat, or she’d get hurt.
I switched off the shower, dried myself, put on an oversized t-shirt and climbed into bed. The night was hot and my skin overheated. Taras said my body had called to him. Well, it wouldn’t happen again. I didn’t hate him; it took two to tango and I’d been a willing participant. He was who he was… a man with an ego the size of Jupiter, a cold-hearted man, a man with a dark past. Taras intrigued me, but I wouldn’t be his fuck toy.
I closed my eyes and thought about Emma. The poor kid having such a callous father. I remembered my resolve to try and bring them closer to each other. How naïve of me to think it could be so easy! And yet… and yet, I wouldn’t give up. She deserved so much more.
I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before falling into a restless sleep. Morning came way before I was ready, my alarm waking me from a nightmare about Justin Ward and a bizarre car chase. Jesus, what had I gotten myself into? Pretending to be an informer so Taras could ascertain if the man was a fed? It was as if I’d turned into Alice and had fallen down a surreal rabbit hole. To say I was scared would be an understatement. I was practically shitting myself.
I swung my legs from the bed and padded across my room to the ensuite. My face stared back at me in the mirror. Zoe Addison, you’re in a pickle, I told myself. Except, I wouldn’t chicken out. I’d agreed to support Taras, and I wouldn’t renege on my agreement. He’d kept his side of the bargain and had allowed me to watch him play the cello. I knew what I was getting into by making that stupid request; I’d just have to live with the consequences. Thankfully, my heart wasn’t broken… just my pride dented a little.
Quickly, I washed and got dressed. Emma would still be asleep, she relied on me to wake her every morning. She would be the focus of my life from here on in Fairwood.
I stepped into the corridor. Taras would be up already; he rose with the sparrows to go for a run before breakfast. I squared my shoulders. Stop thinking about him! With a sigh, I pushed open the door to Emma’s bedroom. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” I called out. “Time to start a new day.”
* * *
“Did you and Papa talk about my birthday last night?” Emma looked up at me from her Math homework later in the afternoon.
“We did, poppet. But it’s a surprise, so I can’t say anything.” I kept my tone light.
“Aw, that’s so not fair.” She put down her pen. “Did Papa agree to me hanging out at Sasha’s yet?”
“I’m still working on it,” I ruffled her curls. “Let’s go for a swim. Don’t know about you, but I could do with cooling off…”
She giggled. “You just wanna work on your tan.”
I stared at my bare arms. They’d never been this brown before. Mum had passed down her dark hair and olive skin genes to me. Although she was a Welshwoman, she looked more Spanish than Celtic. She used to laugh and say she had the DNA of a shipwrecked sailor from Seville.
“And you, young lady,” I said to Emma, “need to make sure you keep putting on Factor Fifty.” She was fair, unlike her father; she must have inherited her complexion from Nina. Not for the first time, I wondered about Taras’ ex-wife, and what had gone wrong in their marriage. Why had he undertaken a vasectomy? He was only in his early thirties; it appeared a tad strange for a virile alpha like him.
I put my arm around Emma as we left the library and went to the pool house to change. I’d placed freshly laundered towels and clean swimsuits in there this morning for what had become our daily routine.
We swam for about half an hour. Towards the end of that time, I heard the motor of the limo bringing Taras home. I waited for the habitual sight of him at his bedroom window, checking up on us.
Nothing.
I bet he’s having second thoughts about last night as well. He broke his own rule about not fucking a member of staff…
“Room for one more?” the sudden sound of his melodic, baritone voice made me spin around.
“Papa,” Emma squealed. “You’ve come for a swim.”
“I have, indeed.”
I stared up at him, at his broad chest tapering to a trim waist. The evening sun was behind him, outlining his imposing body. Truly, he was godlike.
Godlike but a devil at the same time.
He dove into the pool and surfaced next to me, shaking the droplets from his eyes. I gave him a suspicious look. This wasn’t typical Taras behavior.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“This is my pool, rybka.”
“Yes, but… surely this is a first?” I asked, still staring at him suspiciously.
“Papa,” Emma swam up to us, “Zoe wouldn’t tell me about my birthday surprise. Am I having one?”
“You are, myshka. I’ve managed to get tickets for Swan Lake in New York.”
Emma’s smile would have lit up the universe. She threw her arms around him and kissed his stubble-covered cheek.
My heart, my poor heart, squeezed in my chest.
He extricated himself from her hold. His expression darkened; it was as if shutters had come down over his face. “Can you show me how good you are at diving, Emmochka? I’m sure you can dive like a star.”
“I can, Papa. Sasha and I practice every Saturday,” she chirped.
“I’ve seen you from upstairs,” he said gruffly. “I’d like you to show me up closer.”
She heaved herself out of the pool and ran to the diving board.
I turned and started to swim away from Taras, my tummy fluttering, my emotions all over the place.
“Don’t go,” he whirled around so quickly the pool water churned. “You and I need to talk.”
“What about?” I sucked in a quick breath. “If you think I was going to change my mind about Sunday, you have no need to fear, I am a woman of my word…….”
He shook his head. “I don’t doubt it. We need to talk about us.”
That one simple word sent chills through me. Did it mean he was sending me back to the U.K. early? Or did it mean something else?
“Papa, Papa,” Emma interrupted, calling out from the diving board. “You aren’t watching me.”
Taras shaded the sun from his eyes with one hand and gave Emma his full attention. “I see you now, myshka. Go ahead.”
At his command, she bounced on the board and then executed a graceful dive, her body arching before slicing into the pool with barely a ripple. Taras clapped and I joined in with him as she surfaced. “Have dinner with me tonight, Zoe,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m supposed to eat in the kitchen with Emma.” I stared at his daughter, swimming toward us now. “That’s my job.”
“Don’t disrespect me. I’m your boss,” he shot back. “You’ll do as I s
ay.”
My chest rose and fell with indignation, but I responded, “Yes, sir.”
He laughed mockingly. “I’ve a good mind to spank your sassy ass.”
Heat burned in my cheeks, and, unaccountably in my pussy. Jesus, I was shameless. Where was sensible Zoe when I needed her?
Emma had reached us, her sweet face expectant of praise. “Did I do good?”
“You did more than good, myshka,” Taras beamed a broad smile. “So proud of you.”
“Can I order a new outfit to wear to the ballet?” she came right back at him.
He tickled her under the chin. “Why not?” He glanced at me. “Would you like a new dress too, Zoe?”
I stared at him, speechless. Taras had morphed from the devil into something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then I remembered Lucifer was a fallen angel.
This man was certainly a mixture of darkness and light.
“Thank you,” I said. What else could I say? It would have been crass to refuse, and I’d been worrying about what I was going to wear ever since he’d decided on Emma’s birthday treat.
“You’ll have dinner with me tonight, so we can discuss the arrangements,” his tone brooked no opposition. “Come down as soon as you’ve taken Emma up to bed.”
“If we are to talk, then that’s fine by me,” I smiled sweetly. “I’d like to speak my mind.”
“Touché, Mary Poppins,” he barked out a laugh.
“Why do you call her that?” Emma gave Taras a funny look.
“Because she’s English and she’s a nanny,” he smirked.
“It’s rude to talk about someone as if they weren’t there,” I said in my poshest Mary Poppins voice. “Who’s she? The cat’s mother? My name is Zoe.”
They both laughed, and I joined in. It seemed like a breakthrough, the three of us laughing together. I hoped it was, but I never knew with Taras. He blew hot and cold; I had no clue where I stood with him.
Or even if I stood anywhere at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Taras