by Lee, Kimber
Andrei let me open my eyes the second we arrived at our destination, which was a little bistro just outside Naples, he quickly explained. I never heard of it before, but judging from the lavish décor, it was obviously an expensive place. Andrei, though, was seriously underdressed in his usual T-shirt and jeans ensemble—which actually didn’t matter since the place was completely empty.
“Where is everyone?” I had to ask.
“The restaurant is closed to the public tonight,” Andrei replied. “And I’ve also charmed the entire staff to remain in the kitchen until we’re done. You’re all mine.”
The chandeliers were lit, hanging high above the cloth-covered tables and high-back suede dining chairs. Only one table was set though. And once I spied the food on the table it instantly caused a very audible rumbling in my belly. Andrei heard it and chuckled.
“So… are you hungry?” he asked, taking my hand in his and leading me to the table.
“Well, yes. But why…?” I realized how ambiguous that question was so I quickly amended it. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” he replied simply, pulling out a chair for me. “Well, save for the fact that I enjoy watching you eat.”
“Oh, like it’s a sport or something,” I remarked dryly as I gingerly sat down.
Andrei laughed, the sound making me crane my neck to watch the beautiful transition on his face. “No, baby.” He crouched, until his face was level with my chest. “I imagine your zeal for eating food matches my enthusiasm for feasting on you,” he stated matter-of-factly before placing a sensual kiss to my exposed kneecap.
My body instantly responded, heating up and trembling for him. I was in a skintight virgin white dress that fell mid-thigh with my favorite Jimmy Choo heels, but I might as well have been naked and ready for him.
“You will finish everything on the table,” Andrei huskily commanded, rubbing my left calf. “No one else is here to help you.”
I tore my eyes away from him to look at the steaming plate of lasagna, which I realized, was actually cooked in Italy by an authentic Italian chef. My mouth was watering just sniffing such a delectable aroma.
“Of course,” I told Andrei, giving him an incredulous look. “Is there any other way?”
“Good girl,” he said approvingly, rising to his full height. “But you will sit on my cock. Up, Rae.”
Desire spiked high in my veins. “Excuse me?”
“Up.”
I shakily got to my feet, gripping the edge of the table for support and allowing him to take my place on the chair. His palm connected with my ass and I jumped, releasing a childlike squeal.
“What was that for?”
“For twitching it in my face like that, temptress. Are you wet?”
I couldn’t keep up. One minute he wanted to feed me, the next he wanted to know what was happening between my legs. I had no idea which to focus on, especially when his hand effortlessly parted my quivering thighs and snaked a path up to the heat between my legs. I was bare there and completely at his mercy.
“Andrei,” I gasped when he dipped a searching finger inside me.
“Wet,” he confirmed in a growl, hiking the hem of my dress up my thighs. “Off.”
His monosyllabic words definitely made me wetter and I wordlessly obeyed his command and tugged my dress off. My bra followed. I heard the slow drag of the zipper of his pants and bit my lower lip in anticipation.
“Sit.”
Warm air wrapped a hand around my lower body as I slowly lowered myself down. Andrei made me spread my legs slightly before wrapping two big hands around my waist, his fingers spanning my lower belly. I gasped at the first feel of his erection at my entrance.
“Oh, damn,” I breathed, my grip on the table threatening to break my nails. “Oh, you feel so good.”
He brought me down all the way, groaning softly when my body swallowed his entire length. I already felt full… of him.
“Eat,” he commanded, raising me off him a little before bringing me back down on him with a grunt.
I moaned loudly, wanting so badly for him to fuck me. After the weird day I had, I needed to feel close to him. This was the only way we knew to do that.
“Eat?” I panted, raising myself off him and coming back down with a cry. “Are… you… out of your damn mind?”
“Rae,” he growled at my back, “don’t let good food go to waste.”
And that just did it for me. I hated wastage.
With a trembling hand, I picked up a fork and dug it into the pasta. Andrei’s hands skated down my stomach until he parted my swollen folds and unerringly found my pulsing clit. It took all my power to bring my fork to my mouth. When I did, the unbelievable taste of the piquant tomato, beef, basil and various vegetables sent a shock of pure delight through my body at the exact same time Andrei began to rub the nub with the pad of his large thumb.
“How is it?” he whispered in my ear, jerking inside me at the same time.
“Oh, fuck,” I panted, unable to resist the urge to buck against him. “Good. It’s so good!”
“Rae,” Andrei groaned, “finish it.”
He was tweaking my hypersensitive spot and thrusting upwards in earnest now as I was rocking back against him. Every thrust ripped a moan from my throat and every stroke of my sensitized bud sent me doubling over my plate.
“Please,” I whimpered, because this was absolute torture. “Need… to… come! Let me!”
“Eat,” was his grunting response to my breathless plea.
So I forced myself to attempt the said task.
The lasagna was incredible, out of this world, in fact. But Andrei taking me like this was a painful pleasure. I was caught between savoring the spiciness on my tongue and reveling in another kind of sensation altogether between my legs. It was a tough choice, and so I tried to accommodate both.
“I can’t stop,” Andrei murmured, weighing my breasts in his palms now. “I can’t fucking stop.”
“Don’t,” I exhaled, crying out when he tugged at the rock-hard tips of my breasts, which nearly sent me over the edge. “Oh, God. Andrei, don’t stop.”
“I need you,” he snarled, as if he were angry about that and blamed me. He drove into me, harder than before, hard enough to bring me to a shattering climax. “I need you so fucking much, mea domina. My fucking queen. My fucking mistress,” he groaned while I rode out my almost blinding orgasm.
It felt like I just exploded into a million pieces, and the painful pleasure was almost too much for me to bear. My entire body trembled with my climax, bucking and shuddering with it. Andrei continued to ram into me, not stopping his sweet assault, increasing his tempo until he was closer to his own release.
“My king,” I said under my breath, knowing that he would hear me. I was so blinded by my ecstasy that I didn’t know or care about what the hell I was saying. I didn’t really give a damn. “Love…” My voice trailed off when I caught myself.
You’re fucking nuts, Rae! I scolded myself.
Was I really about to admit to Andrei that I loved him? Yeah, I was a total nutjob.
“Baby,” he growled, his mouth on my shoulder as he sank his teeth into the skin there. “Fucking hell.” And then he jerked himself inside me, coming hard and coming long.
My vaginal muscles contracted, squeezing around him like a fist, knowing that it was sweet agony for him. He moaned louder, cursing into the air. And when he was finished, he soothed the tooth marks on my damp skin with his tongue.
He held me upright against his chest and I realized that sometime during our lovemaking, his clothes had vanished and he was just as naked as I was. It felt like being home in his arms, my back against his chest.
“I had a shitty day,” he said suddenly, easily lifting me off him so that he could turn me around and set me back down on his lap. He looked into my eyes, a billion unnamable emotions in the blue pools, and slid his arms around my waist again. “I can’t stay away from you anymore.”
“Then don’t,” I told him, lazily sifting my fingers in his damp hair. “Tell me about your day.”
His eyes momentarily widened before clouding over with confusion, as if he’d never heard that request before and was wondering how to answer it.
“My day?” he echoed, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“I want to hear about it.”
He cleared his throat. “You sure?” When I nodded, he released a heavy sigh. “It was just a regular day at the office, where lesser demons try in vain to get rid of me, forcing me to rip them apart in front of mortals.” He wrinkled his nose. “Which means I waste my time erasing memories. I fucking hate that part.”
My hands froze in his hair. “Get rid of you?”
He took my right hand in his and placed a soft kiss on my palm. “You don’t have to look so… terrified.” His lips were twitching in that way they did when he wanted to smile but was fighting himself not to. “They figure I’m weaker in your world and try to take advantage of that. It’s been like that for millennia and it’s not about to change. We demons are opportunists, no matter the risk.”
I swallowed. “And in your… realm? When you’re in your true form, do they…”
“Attempt to kill me? No. Lesser beings cannot kill the strong in the same way a mouse can’t conquer a lion.”
I didn’t bother to mention the fable of the lion and the mouse.
“But here? In this place? If someone stronger than you wants to… end you? Can you be…?”
“If I haven’t fed for a while, I’ll degenerate, I suppose. That would be the best time to strike. Weaken me so that I’m forced to be in limbo between two worlds until… Well, until it turns into an eternity of suffering.” He tilted his head to one side. “I’m not giving you any ideas, am I?”
I slapped his arm, surprised at the anger that rocketed through me at his somewhat playful words. “Are you crazy? I’d never…”
Once again, he cut me off, but this time with his mouth. His hand came up behind my neck and his tongue slid between my lips, sparring with mine and swirling around my mouth. His kiss was hungry, desperate, and liquid heat seeped into my pores, bubbling in my abdomen.
Andrei swallowed my moans, his tongue confident in what it was doing to me. “Finish your damn food, temptress,” he murmured between kisses.
“Later,” I told him, reaching between us to grab him. He let out a soft hiss, his smoldering eyes clouding over with lust. “I need to feel you inside me again.”
His breathing was ragged as he lifted me to my feet, whirled me around and pressed my belly down against the empty half of our table.
“Then I need to fuck you again,” he announced in a low voice, and I felt his rigid tip slide up and down my wet, swollen labia.
“Yes!” I gasped, tilting my pelvis and pushing back against him, wanting to speed up the process. “Fuck me, Andrei.”
He then pulled out and I felt his hands run along my back and rest on my butt, gathering up the firm globes in his palms and squeezing. “My ass,” he whispered, the quiet sound sending shivers down my spine. He released my ass, reached around me, and cupped my boobs. “My tits. Fucking beautiful tits, don’t you think?” He pinched my nipples and I yelped, glad that I was half-lying on the table because my legs were useless at this point. Andrei’s deft fingers moved up my slit, delving into the wetness they found there. “My pussy, Rae. I fuck it, I own it.”
He owned it. He knew he owned it. If my vagina were a piece of real estate, it would’ve had a “Sold to Andrei” picket sign on the lawn.
“Do I own this pussy, baby?” he asked, lazily tracing circles on my clit with a finger. It was swollen and pulsing for some attention… any attention.
“Yes!” I screamed, shuddering from his unbearable touch. “Andrei, please!” It was crazy how much I needed to feel him, to know that he was powerful beyond measure, and to assure myself that no one could take him away from me. I wanted him so badly even after my powerful release moments ago. It was never enough with him. Never.
“You own my cock,” he murmured into my ear, and I could’ve come at those words. “Every time I’m inside you, I want you to think about that, about how the only pussy my cock wants is yours. And when I’m not inside you, I want you to imagine that I am, because that's exactly what I will be thinking.”
“Baby,” I whispered, “don’t fucking make me beg.”
Andrei grabbed my hips and effortlessly slammed into me with his first thrust. I cried out, my body remembering his size and protesting that it was way too soon for an encore. I accepted all of him, his entire thick shaft, and murmured for him to fuck me, hard.
He was moving inside me, grinding his hips, punishing the walls of my channel with his silk steel.
“Like this?” he barked, thrusting into me harder than I thought my body could possibly withstand.
“Oh, yeah,” I wailed in response, each subsequent thrust dragging my painful nipples along the table. “Oh, hell.” His balls were heavy as they slapped against the backs of my thighs and his skin was hot concrete against my back.
The table was shaking from the impact and at the back of my mind and through half-closed eyes, I worried that my half-eaten meal was going to meet an untimely demise on the carpet. But all thoughts of food and spices flew out my mind the minute he fingered my sensitized nub and simultaneously plunged into me.
“Come for me, mea domina,” he rasped.
I was his queen and I was coming for him, convulsing so hard with my orgasm that he had to tighten his hold on my hips, lest I collapsed. Through my own climax, I felt the rush of his cum deep inside me, hot and thick. His strokes inside me became even until he stopped, holding himself still inside me and gathering me up into him. He held me upright, placing his hot mouth into the crook of my neck, still buried within me.
“Did I hurt you?” he murmured, lightly biting my skin.
I felt incredibly safe with his arms wrapped around my waist, although I was far from comfortable standing on my tiptoes. “Nah, I’m not made out of china, remember?” Although I was probably going to be sluggish tomorrow and sporting a couple of interesting bruises in interesting places.
“No, you’re not,” Andrei conceded, running his tongue along the side of my neck. “But you should know that you can’t lie to me. Let me take you home.”
“OK,” I moaned, stifling a yawn, “but I want you to spend the night.”
I turned to one side until he was kissing my mouth.
“Anything you want,” Andrei said to me, and I knew he meant it.
Chapter 17
“Oh, you’re answering my calls now? Pigs must be flying GVs somewhere,” Renée’s wounded voice said into my ear.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I accidentally pressed Accept when I was fumbling for my phone to put it on silent. That would’ve been bitchy of me and I couldn’t be bitchy to Ren, of all people.
“I’ve been busy,” I said softly, slapping my right leg, which was starting to fall asleep. I’d been lying in the same position for about an hour now – which was flat on my stomach like a kid reading a magazine…
“Busy? Do you know how worried Enzo and I have been, thinking you’d been killed or something?”
“Killed?” I absentmindedly flicked what I was praying was a piece of lint off my left forearm.
“Have you forgotten how you were attacked on a plane?” she asked, in full-blown Renée-the-Hysterical mode. “We care about you, Rae, but you’re being so freaking thoughtless by not returning my calls. Busy!” She snorted, clearly skeptical.
I heard low voices outside the door, which meant that someone was coming in any minute now. My best friend might as well have been in the same room as me. That was how loud she was.
“Ren, can I call you back?” I mumbled. “Please?”
“Why are you whispering? Are you in church?”
I could’ve laughed. Yeah, because Damien Ivanov’s office on the second floor of his club was hol
y ground.
“Talk later. Love you,” I hissed quickly, before hanging up and putting my phone on silent. Thinking better of it, I turned it off all together.
The door swung open just there and I instinctively froze, although I knew that it was impossible for anyone to see me from under the double bed in one corner, especially because the room was still dark. I didn’t even want to brood over why the guy would have a double bed in his office.
The door was closed and the light was flicked on.
Snakeskin-clad feet – Good God, are those Salvatore Ferragamo Python Loafers? – strode past the foot of the bed, followed by booted feet. I heard a chair being pushed back, and then the steady stream of what definitely sounded like heated Russian. For some reason, I knew that that was Damien’s voice, just like I knew he was the wearer of the ridiculously expensive dress shoes.
Well, shit, I thought, when Damien’s Russian monologue seemed to be endless. How the hell am I supposed to spy if he’s going to be speaking in tongues the whole time?
My James Bond operation didn’t exactly come with a standard-issue Google Translate app.
It was while I was pondering this that I realized the monologue had come to an end and the second person was talking. I had to cover my mouth with one hand to stop a dirty word from escaping, because I fucking recognized that voice.
What the hell were the odds?
Andrei’s voice was low, giving nothing away about what mood he was in. Then again, I wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was threatening Damien since he was speaking in freaking Russian as well.
“You must be out of your fucking mind, Anghelescu,” Damien astonished me by snarling, in English, no less. “Get the fuck out of my club before I call security.”
“If you want bloodshed,” Andrei casually informed him. “You’re a complete and total clown fuck,” he said after Damien mumbled something back. Andrei’s voice was louder this time. “A fucking Bible college? How many times have I told you what kind of shit storm that’ll bring?”
“This is the hundredth time you’ve mentioned that little fact and quite frankly, you’re becoming a broken record,” Damien snapped. I heard his chair being violently pushed back. “Don’t you have some humans to seduce and fuck? Go get jiggy with it, incubus.”