by Zoey Parker
I nodded to answer his question, hoping that would appease him.
“Good.” He shoved three fingers inside me. “So wet,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still with a slight edge. “Do you want me?”
I nodded frantically, pleading with him with my eyes.
“Good.” His grin was wicked, and just staring at him left me wanting.
But he pulled out two fingers, and I fought back a moan. I wanted more. I needed more. I fought the urge to roll my hips. I fought the urge to groan. I fought, and I won, but I also felt like I lost, too.
He finger-fucked me lazily for a minute with one finger, and I was dying for more. When he removed that finger, too, I scowled. This was torture, and I began to daydream about ways that I could get him back if he ever gave me that level of control. I knew he needed to exhibit power in all aspects of his life. I might not have known him for long, but I could tell power and control were huge issues for him. If he could just let go for once, to cut all ties, to give into freedom, maybe he wouldn’t be quite so uptight. Maybe then he could relax and enjoy life. Maybe I would start with a massage and trail my fingers down his hard muscles.
But I doubted I could be slow and torturous with him. I would just get right to it and hoped he could last a long while. Something about him made me want to just give of myself…of my body at least.
Suddenly, his hands found my waist, and he flipped me over. “Remember,” he warned. “Don’t move.” He climbed on top of me, his mouth inches from mine. “Do you understand?”
I nodded. Guess nodding was all I was allowed to do. Anticipation was building inside of me, but I tried to feign indifference. I didn’t want to seem too overly eager. I didn’t want him to realize just how much of a hold of my body he had already.
Andrei began at my shoulders again, massaging me. His hands went down my arms, and he entwined our fingers as he pressed against me with his cock. So big and hard. I shivered.
His mouth found mine, his tongue deep, and I fought back a moan as I kissed him back hard and passionate, all fire and heat. Just the one kiss, and then he released my mouth, and my hands, and resumed massaging me, though now his hands were touching my sides, featherlight. He skipped over my breasts — which didn’t surprise me — and he began to rub my feet.
Some people might not like feet, but I loved having my feet touched, and he knew how to massage, his fingers working my muscles deep but not enough to cause pain. He knew how to walk the line between pleasure and pain, and he always came out on the right side of it.
My nipples hardened, and I so badly wanted to touch them, to touch myself, to give in and seek the relief Andrei obviously didn’t care that he was creating inside of me, that he obviously had no burning desire to unburden me from. He had me in a puddle, and if he asked me to do anything at that point in exchange for that relief, I would give in without question.
My toes were curling, that I couldn’t stop. A slow burn was creeping up my legs, and I so wanted it to reach my core, and, good Lord, he was torturing me. When would this end?
Then again, I never wanted it to end.
I gripped the blanket beneath me and ground my teeth so I wouldn’t talk. I wouldn’t give into him. I wouldn’t break. Not anymore.
“Good girl,” he murmured into my ear. He blew hot air onto my neck, and I shivered again.
Tears prickled behind my closed eyelids. This was too much to bear. I had to find a way to get off, or else I was going to go mad. Maybe that was his plan. To make me need him even more than just for his money. So I would become blinded to all other things. So I would be willing to do everything he asked. To make me not question him and his background.
But I didn’t want to think right now. I just wanted to feel and experience and enjoy.
“Am I teasing you too much?” he asked. He wasn’t by my face anymore, his fingers rubbing up and down my calves.
A trick question. I could nod, but I had a feeling he wanted to tease me, that he wasn’t ready to stop regardless of how I answered.
“What do you want?” he asked. His thumbs rubbed the top of my feet. So good. “What do you want?” he asked again.
Not a fair question. It required more than a yes or no response, and I wasn’t supposed to talk. He was trying to trap me, to trick me.
“What do you want?” he asked again. He slid his hand up my legs and paused at my knees. It took everything in me not to spread my legs. “I think I know.”
His large hands pushed my legs apart farther, to my happiness, and he lowered his head and began to kiss and lick and suck. It was just what I needed. The release I sought came quickly, and I did my best to control myself, to muffle my moan, but all of a sudden, I felt his soft hair through my fingers.
Whoops. I shouldn’t have done that. Had been too caught up in my pleasure, and I just had to reach out and touch him.
I released my hold on his hair. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not wanting him to stop, knowing he would.
Would he punish me for defying him? Why does the thought of that make me even wetter?
He immediately stopped licking my pussy and stood. “I can’t blame you,” he said, staring down at me with hooded eyes. “It felt too good for you to hold back.”
Relief flooded through me. He understood. “Yes. You…” I sighed happily, unable to put into words how I felt, how he made me feel. He made me feel incredible, but it was so much more than that. He made me lose control.
He made me forget I should be doing everything he said, that I should be the one listening, that right now he wanted to touch me, and I was to let him. Giving up control I could handle, and he definitely knew what to do when he had that same level of control given to him.
His eyes darkened. “But you didn’t listen to me,” he said, his voice a little gruffer now. “Should I punish you?”
A dark and delicious thrill went through me. A secret thrill. “If you think I deserve to be, yes.” I stared at him, issuing him a silent challenge.
“I don’t know how to punish you,” he said slowly. He rubbed his chin.
“You could spank me,” I suggested, remembering how it had smarted and hurt me yet it had made me even wetter at the same time.
His laugh echoed in the room. “You would like that, I think,” he said, shaking his head. “Is punishment meant to be enjoyed?”
I blushed. I had kind of enjoyed it. I hadn’t been spanked before. Not like that. Not in a way that had awoken me sexually. “Maybe,” I whispered.
Andrei suddenly leaned down, his face inches from mine. His hand tightly wrapped in my hair, he pulled my head to the side and sucked hard on my neck, enough to bring me both pleasure and pain. He then kissed me thoroughly, enough to make my toes curl again. I could taste myself on his lips.
If this was punishment, I couldn’t wait to see what a reward might be. I’d do anything to sample a taste of his reward.
He was grinding himself against me, and I wiggled my hips, trying to entice him to enter me when he pulled back and stood. Andrei backed up a few steps, and my gaze trickled down from his handsome face to his chiseled abs and farther to his gorgeous cock. “Suck me,” he demanded, his tone low.
I stared at his huge, thick, throbbing cock. No way could I fit all of that into my mouth. But I could still try. I was more than willing to try. I licked my lips and climbed off the bed to kneel in front of him. I licked the tip of his cock and, mentally preparing myself, opened my mouth.
His hands shoved the back of my head forward. Somehow, I didn’t gag, and I fucked him with my mouth. His hands applied slight pressure to my head if I slowed down, and even though I wanted to play with his balls, I had to cup and hold onto his ass to make sure I could stay upright and not fall over, I was fucking him that hard.
How much longer could he last? Just as I was thinking this, Andrei lessened his hold on my hair and allowed me to pull back. I stared up at him, waiting for him to tell me what to do next. My thighs were so wet. I had never enjoye
d pleasuring a man orally than I had just now.
He was staring at me, a haze of lust shining in his dark eyes. I loved how badly he obviously wanted me. “Do you like being dominated in bed?” he asked.
All I could do was nod. You bet I did. In a way, giving up control was the definition of freedom.
Andrei lifted me up and flipped me upside down so my feet were high up in the air and my head was down near his cock. I shrieked at the suddenness of the movement, but his tongue found my clit, and my shrieks turned into moans. All the blood was rushing to my head, and what he was doing to me was so freaking crazy.
Before I could come, he flipped me back around and dropped me onto the bed. I bounced up and was more than willing to let him arrange and move my body, to direct me to be on all fours. I wiggled my ass, waiting for him, hoping he would give it to me.
And, man, did he give it to me. He pounded into me — long, deep, and hard — and it was no time before I was screaming again. Who came first? I wasn’t sure, but I sure as hell knew I had, not once but twice. My pussy was dripping wet, so wet the amount of cum he pumped into me was already leaking out.
My arms buckled, and I collapsed onto the bed, spent and thoroughly fucked.
Did I like to be dominated? Oh yeah.
Did I want to get pregnant right away? Um, no.
I almost wished I wouldn’t get pregnant right away so our sexual relations didn’t have to end. That we could keep going on like this for a long while yet.
In silence, Andrei dressed and walked toward the door. He threw me a wink before exiting my room, leaving me to my own devices in his mansion. Not that I had the energy to do anything but roll over and fall asleep.
And who did I dream of? And what did I dream about us doing?
A repeat of our nightly activities.
When I woke, I was still wet.
Chapter 14 Andrei
I was whistling. Whistling. That wasn’t something I had done in a long time. I had thoroughly enjoyed fucking Kelly Greene, although I hadn’t intended for two of our four times in the first week to be in the same night. Maybe I should have left that provision out of the contract.
Or maybe she would be amendable to having sex more than just four times this week. She certainly had been responsive to all of my attention, and I did enjoy making her squirm, riling her up, getting her all heated and then toying with her. There could be something amazing about being brought to the brink and then giving in, to letting the buildup grow until it can’t be contained a second longer.
I had been so ready to explode into her mouth. She hadn’t been the best ever to blow me, but there was something about her willingness, her allowing me to guide her, that brought me so close to the edge I almost gave in earlier than I intended. We were trying to make a baby, though, so I shouldn’t waste my cum in her mouth. Not yet at least. Maybe she would be amendable to that once she became pregnant.
So far, our arrangement was working quite nicely. Quite nicely, indeed. And I had no reason to think things would start to fail in that department anytime soon, which was all the more satisfying.
But the other issue weighing on me was nearly crippling, and my whistling died on my lips. Mikhail Vasilev had already sent a man to spy on me. If he wants to get dirt on me, I better get more dirt on him first. Two can play at this game, and the loser will die. And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.
Although it was early yet, I called Aleksey. I would not waste a second figuring out how to set up my revenge.
He answered on the third ring. “What do you need?” he asked.
“For you to come here,” I demanded, and I hung up.
My cook had just finished serving me breakfast when the doorbell rang. I calmly cut into my cinnamon apple pancake and started to enjoy my meal, leaving my butler to handle the door. I was a bundle of nerves, but I would not show fear. I would not even feel fear.
Not even a minute later, Aleksey entered the room. He eyed the food before staring at me. “What can I help you with?” he asked.
I made a show of deliberately setting down my fork and knife. “I need you to prove yourself,” I said, glaring at him. He might be one of my right hand men, but even Aleksey had to prove himself to me again since he had disobeyed me recently.
Aleksey swallowed audibly and nodded. “Anything. I swear I didn’t mean—”
“I want you to spy on Mikhail,” I declared. “Find out what his cover is, how long he’s been in town, what exactly he’s up to. Can you do this for me?” I leaned back in my seat, my hands clasped together, thumbs idly twiddling.
“You can trust me.” Aleksey nodded again, and the scar by his mouth pulled slightly as he smiled. “Believe me.”
“Good. Go.” I wanted to believe him. Now was not the time for distrust.
Aleksey nodded a third time and left.
As I resumed eating, I tried not to worry. I didn’t need discord in my own ranks, but I could have easily asked Dima to handle this for me. I had no possible issues with Dima, but Aleksey had disobeyed a direct order. Loyalty meant a great deal to me, and I needed to have faith in my men. Without faith and loyalty, what remained?
Nothing.
But if Aleksey could do this for me, if he could handle gaining intel on Vasilev, he would be back in my good graces. And I needed him by my side. I needed to trust him. Taking down Mikhail Vasilev would not be easy. Having my revenge would not be easy.
But it would happen, and it would happen soon.
***
A week passed, and finally, Aleksey messaged me to let me know he had info for me. I was at the gambling ring when I received the notification, and I called him in and told him to meet me at my house. There were too many ears at the ring and the bar, and while I was sure most everyone there was on my side, I didn’t want to risk it. My men were loyal, and I hadn’t seen any newcomers lately, not after the spy Mikhail Vasilev had sent there, but money could be a terrible temptress, and it was better to be overly cautious than not. I finished my beer, said my goodbyes to the men there, and left.
Aleksey beat me home and was waiting for me in the study. Kelly was upstairs. Normally I would go up and see her as soon as I returned home, but tonight my attention was needed elsewhere. I would see her later. Just the thought made me grow hard, but the look on Aleksey’s face had my cock going soft again.
I slammed a fist onto the table. “Well? What did you learn?” I demanded as I sat down.
“He has a new business in town.” Aleksey had been standing but now he sat too. “Owns it under a different name.”
“What is his business?” I shouldn’t have to ask.
“An auto shop.” Aleksey laughed, the sound loud and jarring, or maybe my headache was making me anxious. I had been having a lot more headaches lately. For the most part, Kelly was able to make them go away, but they were from stress, and my stress level was going to remain high until Vasilev was dead.
I would’ve laughed if things weren’t so dangerous. “Is he embezzling money?” I figured that to be the case. An auto shop wouldn’t be a way to make a lot of money, and money equaled power, and Vasilev was all about seizing power. His killing my family was testimony to that fact.
“Most likely.” Aleksey tilted his head to the side. “Not that I can prove it without going in deep. Way deep.”
“A cover, too?” I asked.
After my parents died, I went through every bit of their personal belongings. Every file and paper about Mikhail Vasilev I had read and reread, so I knew he had a propensity toward buying and selling drugs. Lucrative if you were smart enough to not get too greedy or to get caught.
“You know him. Wouldn’t be surprised.” Aleksey shrugged. “That’s all I have. Know it’s not much, but I’d have to infiltrate his circle or find an in somewhere to learn more.”
I had figured that would be the case. To go undercover with my main foe… Despite his disobeying me with Kelly, Aleksey had always been there for me, and there was no one else I
trusted more to pull off this con. “Go there,” I said, not demanding it, willing to give him an out if he wanted it. “Check it out. Take your car to the shop to have it fixed and look around for anything suspicious. I want solid intel this time.” This information was good, but not good enough. Nothing to help me bring Vasilev down.
“You can count on me.” Aleksey’s smile disappeared. His face was solemn. He was serious.
“I do.”
He started to stand.
“Thank you,” I added.
“Anything for you.”
My men were loyal, but without a doubt, so would Vasilev’s. If this came to war, the victor might turn out to be the one whose men were the most loyal. My men had, at one time, been my father’s, but now they were mine. When I first set out to reclaim my birthright as the leader of the Petrov mob, a number of men came forward without question. The rest I slowly earned their respect despite my age. Respect was where true power came from, not money, not fear. If the war did require loyalty, I had no doubt I would emerge the victor.