by Bella Rose
ANATOLY STARED AT Trisha because he could not stop. She sat in the center of the bed with the covers pulled up to her chest. Her red hair was gently mussed, the short curls falling forward over her cheeks and framing her face. The green eyes were sleepy, and yet the intelligence shining out of them was considerable. She was utterly kissable and completely enchanting.
Anatoly sat on the edge of the bed. At times Trisha seemed to be an experienced flirt. At others she was anything but. The contrast delighted him. Now he reached out and took her hand in his. He traced the lines on the palm of her hand and felt her shiver beneath his touch.
“You will enjoy your week here with me,” he decided.
She tugged her hand back. “So are we not even pretending now that I committed some bogus crime in your casino?”
He had forgotten that for the moment. How odd. “Does it matter?”
“You insulted me,” she said quietly. “So yes. It matters.”
“Ah, your pride was wounded by the notion that you could be perceived as a criminal. Yes?”
“Yes.” She was looking at him as though he were a simpleton. How novel.
Anatoly shrugged and pulled her hand back into his lap. He touched the inside of her wrist and felt the racing of her pulse beneath her skin. She was so feminine, and yet there was not an ounce of the calculation or manipulation that had become so much a part of his recent experience with the fairer sex.
He lifted her wrist to his lips and kissed the tender skin. She shivered. He smiled and did it again, this time letting his lips skate up the inside of her arm. He got to her elbow and lingered over the softness there before moving higher. He could sense her surrender in the way she leaned toward him as though she were seeking more contact.
“Trisha,” he murmured softly. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“That’s not something I typically hear.” She gave a little snort of disbelief. “It’s probably just the new. That will wear off soon enough.”
“No.” He wondered why she refused to believe her own desirability. “It won’t wear off. Would you like to see proof?”
“You can’t prove something like that. It’s imposs...”
He dragged her hand down to the bulge between his legs and pressed her palm against his erection. The feel of her slender fingers against his swollen flesh was erotic. Sucking in a quick breath, he gazed at her and waited for comprehension to show on her face.
“Is that—?” She seemed to struggle for words. “Are you—hard—because of me?”
“Yes.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
Anatoly gave a low laugh. Such innocence! And yet he could tell it was not the first time she had touched a man’s hard on. “You don’t have to do anything, malenkaya. That was my point.”
Chapter Six
Trisha felt a jolt of nervous excitement fly through her body. The first time she had seen Anatoly Zaretsky, she had been amazed by the beauty and power of this man. To think that she—a nobody from Cleveland—could affect him in that way was flattering.
“I should tell you to leave the room,” she said quietly. “I should say that I’m not interested and that I want you to go and never come back.”
“But?”
“I don’t know that I can do that.”
“So don’t. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”
“And for yourself?” she wondered. “What’s in it for you? Because I’m not naive enough to believe that you would do anything without benefit to yourself.”
“Oh malenkaya, sometimes I think you are an odd mix of experience and innocence.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “How can you even imagine that there is nothing in it for me? Making you feel good is as much for me as it is for you.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She’d been with guys before. She knew the drill.
“Your other lovers must have been terribly selfish.” He seemed to be almost laughing at her.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry I didn’t sleep my way through half the population of Cleveland just to try and find a guy who’s decent in bed.” She was mildly annoyed that he was poking at her for not being more of a slut.
“No.” He scooted closer to her on the bed and began lightly rubbing her bare arms. “Don’t ever think that I would wish you had more experience. You are perfect the way you are. In fact, I might suggest your lack of artifice is refreshing.”
“Apparently you hang out with skanks,” she muttered.
There was an odd feeling between them. It was a heavy sort of pause. Then he cradled the back of her head in his hand and took her mouth in a deep kiss.
Trisha forgot how to breathe. Her mind turned to mush, and the only thing she could focus on was how good he tasted. His touch was electric.
He nudged her backwards, following until he was poised above her body on the bed. She should have protested. Something. This was such a bad idea. Yet when he kissed her again, any thought of saying no completely left her mind. She wrapped her hands around his neck and twined her fingers through his dark hair.
Giving in to the urge to touch him, she felt the strength of his shoulders through his shirt. She gently drew her nails down his back. Finally, she held onto his biceps and strained upwards to feel the heat of him against the front of her body. He was so very warm. Her nipples peaked beneath the fabric of her dress. She had removed her bra before going back to bed. Now she wished she was totally naked. She wanted to feel Anatoly skin to skin in the most intimate way possible.
ANATOLY WAS DANCING on the edge of his self-control. He had never wanted a woman this badly in his life. His hands were shaking as he touched her. Gently clasping a fold of fabric between his fingertips, he lifted her skirt enough to get a hand on her silky smooth thigh. Her skin was warm and resilient beneath his touch.
He braced his weight on his knees and placed both hands on the insides of her thighs. Gazing down at her, he waited to see if she would protest. No words of denial passed her lips. Instead, she was looking at him with a warm regard that seemed so out of place between people who had been the darkest adversaries only hours ago.
“Let’s take off this dress, shall we?” he urged in a low voice.
She didn’t protest, instead raising her arms and helping him to free her body from the fabric. He left his own clothing on in a bid for self-control. Then he tossed her dress onto the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her panties were black with a tiny pink bow just below her navel.
“You are exquisite,” he breathed. “So beautiful.”
Her skin was as pale as the most perfect alabaster. A smattering of freckles dusted her chest, but her belly was smooth and flat. He used one finger to circle her left nipple. She sucked in a sharp breath, and the pale pink bud tightened into a hard point. She arched her back, pushing her breast into the contact.
He moved to her right breast, circling the nipple until she was whimpering with need. Finally, he lowered his head to her chest and gave each one a lick. Her entire body convulsed when he touched her. He’d never found a woman so responsive. His excitement soared as he anticipated the moment of joining.
Letting his fingers draw a trail down her belly, he took his time as he neared the waistband of her panties. Her tummy quivered and shrank reflexively as he tickled the tender skin. She was watching him. He could feel her heavy gaze on him as he gently slipped his fingers beneath her panties to tease her mound.
The hair was coarse, but he was so eager to see her for the first time. She planted her feet flat on the bed and lifted her hips to help him remove her underwear. He slid them down her legs and let them fall to the floor with her dress. Then he got his first look at her pussy.
“Perfect,” he told her. “I’ve never seen anything so pretty.”
A flicker of doubt crossed her features, but he didn’t care. She was exactly as he said. The strip of short hair covering her mound was a beautiful shade of pale red that matched the hair on her head. He enc
ouraged her to bend her knees and expose the sweet core of her body. When she did, he was treated to the sight of her full pink folds.
“You’re wet for me, malenkaya,” he murmured. “So beautifully wet. May I touch you?”
MORE LIKE SHE was going to die if he didn’t. Trisha had never been so turned on in her life. She squirmed on the bed, whimpering a little as she tried to assuage the ache building at her core. He gazed down at her with such wonder. She didn’t understand it. She was just another woman. Someone like him could have a different woman every day of the week. What made her so special?
Then he gently brushed the folds of her pussy with the tips of his fingers, and she forgot how to think. The most delectable sense of anticipation hit her all at once. Everything inside her body clenched. The tip of his index finger circled her clit. He found a hot spot just to the left and began rubbing in tight little circles. Within seconds, she was perched on the edge of a blissful orgasm.
“Anatoly!” she gasped. “Oh God. Oh God.”
Her toes curled and her back bowed as she was flung over the cliff into a well of swirling desire and fulfillment. It was so good. She’d never had anything so good. It wasn’t even like this when she used her own fingers.
She thought he might stop, but he didn’t. He kept circling, going slower and then faster only to dip down and spread cream over her swollen folds from the juice spilling liberally from her opening. She had never been so wet and ready in her life. Her inner muscles flexed again and again as she felt her body getting ready to come a second time.
Anatoly shifted on his knees, struggling to get out of his clothes. She watched in fascination as his cock sprang free of his pants. It was huge. The length was plenty, but he was also thick as her wrist at the base with heavy testicles dusted with dark fur. She gaped a little, impressed and maybe a bit nervous.
“You’re so ready for me, malenkaya,” he crooned. “You’re wet and slick and perfect just for me. You were made for me.”
His words gave her a strange sort of comfort. She spread her knees a little farther to accommodate his bulk as he positioned himself to penetrate her. The end of his cock bumped the entrance to her pussy. The head was round and soft. It caught against her slippery opening and entered her.
She gasped a little at the sudden intrusion. He wasn’t her first, but he was by far the biggest. The process of joining seemed to take an agonizing length of time. Her inner muscles burned as they were stretched to what felt like the maximum. Then he stopped pushing, and she realized that he was fully embedded in her body.
He went still. Finally, she could take no more waiting and wrapped her legs around his waist. Bracing herself, she arched her back and ground her pussy against him until she felt his cock press deeply into her body.
The sensation was utterly incredible. She’d never experienced anything like it. Wanting more, she did it again and again. Finally, Anatoly bracketed her hips in his hands and began to fuck her in earnest. He backed out and slammed inside again and again until she thought she might die of lust.
“More, Anatoly,” she begged. “More!”
HER WORDS SENT him over the edge of sanity. He got a tighter grip on her and slammed his cock inside her pussy over and over until he was mindless to anything but the tight feel of her. Nothing had ever been so perfect. She was wet and hot. The friction on the underside of his shaft was better than he could have dreamed possible.
His balls grew tight as he neared his peak. He wanted to feel her come apart around him, though. It wasn’t enough to pour his seed inside her. He wanted her to reach her peak at the same time.
Finding the place where their bodies were joined, he placed his fingers against the spread hood of her clit. He shivered at the decadent sensation. Here and now he could feel the hot depths of her pussy surrounding his cock and sense her response in the throbbing of her clit. Her blood rushed to her groin. She was growing ripe and ready for another climax. Very gently, he pressed down on her clit.
Her spine arched, and she flung her head back against the mattress. A broken cry escaped her lips, and seconds later he felt everything inside her tighten so much that he could barely move. She was locked down on his shaft. He’d never felt anything like it.
“I can’t hold back, malenkaya,” he ground out. “I have to come.”
“Please!” she gasped.
He thrust one more time and felt his cock pulse as he poured semen into her welcoming body. He caught his weight on his hands before he collapsed and crushed her smaller body. His buttocks tightened, pushing his cock even deeper inside her body. She was clenched tight around him. So much so that he could hardly move. Finally, he rolled to the side, taking her with him and wrapping his arms around her sweat slicked body.
“You are unique in all the world,” he whispered in Russian.
She gave a lusty yawn. “You should really get out more.”
He laughed, wondering if she even realized that she had just proved him right once again. “And you need to take a compliment when it’s given.”
“Fine,” she grunted, obviously irritated. “I accept your idiotic compliment.”
“Thank you.” He chuckled, unable to hold back the humor that she brought out in him. “I should leave you to get some sleep.”
She mumbled something, and then there was total silence. He listened to the soft sound of her breathing. He’d never felt the urge to spend the night with a woman before. Generally he left their beds and came home. He never even had them to his apartment.
This time felt strangely different.
Shaking off the strangeness, he gently settled her in the bed. He rolled to the edge and sat up. His pants were half on and half off. His shirt was hanging open. And the only thing he could think of was how much he wanted to strip naked and climb back into the bed.
But that would have been a bad idea. Now was not the time in his life when he needed the complications of a real relationship. Rubbing his face, he buttoned and zipped his pants. Leaving the room was hard to do. He turned off the light, closed the door, and congratulated himself on his incredible willpower.
Yes. He was in big trouble.
Chapter Seven
Trisha rolled over in bed and blinked away the sleep. She’d had a wonderful dream. Anatoly had been there. He’d been kissing her, and maybe touching her, and she’d had more orgasms with him in ten minutes than she’d ever had with anyone else.
Stretching, Trisha realized that she was naked. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. Clutching the sheet to her breasts, she gasped as the memory of last night came flooding back in one fell swoop.
This was just like some lame movie on the women’s network. Trisha put her face in her hands and groaned. What was she thinking? Had she completely lost her senses?
“Okay.” She puffed out a quick, decisive breath. “It was one time. Not a big deal. It’s not like I’m going to do it again. Right? This was supposed to be a fun vacation. It’s turned a little weird, but I’m not going to think about that either.”
“And now that you’ve gotten that little pep talk out of the way,” Anatoly drawled from the doorway. “I think it’s time to get out of bed and eat some breakfast. Don’t you?”
She nearly leaped out of her skin, to say nothing of the little shriek that slipped out. Her hair was a total rat’s nest, and she was sure she had makeup streaking her face. “Would you get out?” She shooed him with her hands. “I need to at least pretend to make myself presentable. It’s already embarrassing enough to think you’ve seen me looking like hell.”
“You don’t look like hell. You look adorable.”
She groped for a pillow, coming up with some tassel-bedecked monstrosity of a throw pillow. She lobbed it at the door as hard as she could. “Either get out or the next thing I throw won’t be squishy!”
He laughed. “I’m going. I’m going!”
Anatoly disappeared, and Trisha flopped back on the bed. She covered her face with her hands and tried not to s
mile. She shouldn’t be smiling. She shouldn’t be happy. She should be kicking her own ass or something.
ANATOLY TRIED AND failed to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He could actually feel the insanity of his expression and wondered what was wrong with him. Trisha was one woman. He had a business empire to run: hotels in thirteen cities and casinos all across Russia. He did not have time to behave like a love sick school boy.
“Sir?” Yakov was looking positively confused. “Did someone die?”
“Die?”
“Usually you only look this happy when one of your rivals kicks the bucket.”
Anatoly considered this. “You’re right. Although this morning nobody has died. At least not to my knowledge.”
“Ah,” Yakov bobbed his head in an exaggerated gesture of understanding. “Did you have a nice evening?”
“Yes. I did.”
Yakov gave a curt nod. “Your breakfast is out on the terrace, and the morning communications are on your desk. If you require Sergei or I this morning, we will be in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.”
Watching Yakov take long strides down the hallway, Anatoly had to admit that he was rather fond of how his days were consistently ordered. He even whistled a little tune as he headed for the terrace. The weather was beautiful this morning. In fact, the only thing that could make his day more perfect was if he had someone else to share it with.
Anatoly stopped walking and stood completely still. He was standing half in and half out of the sliding glass door that led to the terrace. Had he lost his mind? What would possess him to even think such a thing?
The day seemed to lose some of its shine. Anatoly scowled and sat down in his usual spot. The breakfast was suddenly less pleasing. His eggs appeared runny, and the toast looked burnt. He picked up his coffee and realized that it had cooled to an unpleasant temperature.