by Jenika Snow
“Tell me the motherfucker’s name that hurt you, and I swear I’ll make him pay.”
Sergei pressed his body against hers, the heavy weight a welcome comfort. She was aware of how hard he was to her softness, of how powerful and strong he was compared to her fragility.
“How did you know?” she found herself asking. Zoey was surprised she could even talk through the arousal moving through her veins.
“Yvgeny,” he said without hesitating.
“He shouldn’t have said anything to you,” she whispered, her head resting on the brick wall, her body feeling like it was on fire.
“No, but he knows me, knows what I stand for.” He cupped the side of her face and she found herself leaning into his touch. “He knows I’d never hurt a woman, and that I’d do everything in my power to protect them … just like he’s protecting you.”
Yes, she knew Yvgeny was protecting her. He’d done so much for her, and she would never be able to thank him properly.
“But he didn’t tell me everything.” He pulled back, and she looked up into his eyes. “I found stuff out on my own.”
Alarm settled in her, but the way he stroked her cheek with his thumb had her calming. She knew she should be afraid, run, keep herself guarded, but it was hard to do any of that when this man made her feel intoxicated.
“But I did what I did because I wanted to know about you.”
“You should have asked.” Her strength rose up as she stared at him. “I would have told you.”
Would I have?
“Would you have?” he said, as if reading her mind.
Zoey swallowed, wanting to say she would have, but also not knowing if that would have been the truth. “No,” she finally answered honestly.
He’d stopped stroking her cheek for only a second, as if maybe he waited to hear her response. But now Sergei was back at it.
“You know what I do.”
She could only nod.
“But we do not, under any circumstance, harm women.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think straight.
“We protect them. The ones that hurt a female feel our wrath.”
Her throat was dry, tight. Were all mafias like that? She sounded ridiculous even thinking that to herself.
“So you’re the good version of the Bratva?”
God, I seriously just asked that?
The corner of his mouth lifted, but he was focused on her lips. “There is no good or bad Bratva. There just is the brotherhood.” He lifted his gaze to her eyes then. “We do things that would make your heart seize in your chest,” he said in a deep, low voice.
Her pulse jumped.
“We do things that would give you nightmares.” He leaned in an inch. “I’ve done things that have reserved me a spot in hell.”
She couldn’t breathe, was transfixed by him, and wanted to hear more. She wanted to understand why she felt this way, and why she had this connection toward him.
“This is fast,” she found herself whispering.
“Yes,” was all Sergei said. “But it feels good.”
She licked her lips and nodded. “Yes,” was her response. “It doesn’t make any sense.” And it didn’t. She’d never felt this with any other man, and they’d just met.
“What doesn’t make sense?” he asked, his accent seeming thicker. He moved his thumb closer and closer to her lip, and her mouth tingled, her entire body ready for him.
“How I feel for you. We don’t even know each other.” He had scruff along his cheeks and jaw, and the urge to rub her cheek against it, wanting to feel that roughness, rode her hard.
“I’d like to get to know you a lot better, Myshka.”
She sucked in a lungful of air and moved her hands up to wrap her fingers around his bulging biceps. Zoey was aware of his hard muscles flexing under her hold, but for as much as she wanted to moan from how good that actually felt, she held off. He pressed against her a little harder, the feel of his erection like a steel rod between them.
Every erogenous zone in her body was heightened. Her pussy was wetter than it had ever been, and her nipples felt so hard they could have cut through her shirt. Even though they were outside, and anyone walking by could have seen them—especially Sergei’s driver—it didn’t matter to her. The thought of someone seeing them actually turned her on more.
“I want you to trust me, and I know that’ll take time,” Sergei said, his thumb on her bottom lip, lightly stroking it. “Tell me his name. Tell me who hurt you and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
Zoey didn’t want to bring up the past, didn’t want the toxicity of what she’d had with Rick to ruin how she felt. This moment was intense, and she felt so free, so light. But she also could tell Sergei was the type of man to push when he wanted something. He wouldn’t let this go.
“Let’s not talk about all that—”
“No, let’s talk about it,” he said with determination in his voice. “We need to talk about it.”
She swallowed, wanting to tell him everything, It was like being with him made her feel bolder … stronger. It was a strange sensation, but she desperately wanted to latch onto it.
“Rick. His name is Rick. But I have a feeling you already know that.”
He continued to stroke her lip, not saying anything right away. “I did. But I want you to trust me, to tell me things. I want you to feel like you’re safe with me.”
“I don’t know you,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“You’ll get to know me, Zoey.”
The way he said that made her feel like he wouldn’t just let her go. Maybe she should have felt worried about that, scared that she had such a crazy attraction to this man.
But she didn’t care, and she wasn’t afraid.
They stared into each other’s eyes for long seconds, and then, without thinking about it anymore, and without worrying about anything else, Zoey leaned in and eliminated the meager space that separated them. Once her lips were on his, it was as if a bolt of electricity shot through her entire body. Her clit seemed to throb, her pussy muscles clenched, and she couldn’t stop the moan that left her.
Sliding her hands up his biceps and resting them on his broad shoulders, she curled her nails against the material of his clothes.
And then she leaned in again, rose on her toes, and kissed him harder.
I need this.
He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and then did the same to her top lip. She was helpless in his erotic onslaught, but she was okay with letting him do all the work. She might have started this, or maybe he had … hell, anymore she didn’t know. All she knew for certain was she wanted this to go further.
“You feel so fucking good pressed against me, Zoey.”
She could only moan in agreement.
Sergei delved his tongue between her lips, and she greedily accepted the kiss. He smelled good, like cologne and a hint of spicy cinnamon. The way he slid his hand down her cheek, over her throat, and around to the nape of her neck had everything in her turning to mush. He curled his fingers around the back of her neck, pulled her head closer to him, and really devoured her mouth then.
She moaned.
He grunted. “So. Fucking. Good.”
One second they were kissing, and the next she felt the chill of the air move along her exposed mouth as he stepped away. He was breathing hard, his massive chest rising up and down as he stared at her.
Zoey brought one finger to her lips and lightly laid it on her bottom one, feeling the flesh tingle where Sergei had just been fucking her.
And that’s exactly what he’d been doing to her mouth. Fucking it.
Before she knew what in the hell was going on, he had his chest pressed to hers again. “I wanted to go slow, to take my time with you, but fuck, I can’t, Zoey.” He gently pushed her against the side of the house again and pressed his mouth over hers once more, this time with abandon, heat, and determination.
It was a pleasure so
intense she couldn’t even contemplate how the sex would be with him. And she wanted to have sex with him right now, right here.
Tilting his head to the side and pushing his tongue back into her mouth, he fucked her there. Sergei moved his tongue in and out, ran it along the interior, and groaned deeply. Vibrations from his chest went straight into her body.
“Tell me you want more,” he said harshly against her mouth.
“I want more,” she said without thinking, without worrying about anything else.
He ran his tongue over her bottom lip before sliding it gently against the seam of her mouth, urging her to open for him again. Zoey couldn’t deny him. She didn’t want to. Opening her mouth and accepting him in was just the tip of what she wanted to do with him. And when his tongue ran along hers she greedily sucked on his.
He growled—actually growled.
So many other sensations and emotions filled her. Sergei was thrusting against her belly in steady movements, pressing his hard dick into her, and making her pussy clench with the need for something thick, big. The rhythm of his rock hard dick rubbing against her made Zoey thrust her chest against his, wanting to feel every hard part of him on her body. Even through his slacks she felt the length of his dick.
He was huge.
Sergei broke away from her mouth and trailed slow kisses down her chin and to the hollow of her neck. His tongue left a path of fire on her flesh. He sucked at her throat, gently at first, but added more pressure. And when he thrust his hard cock against her belly again, Zoey couldn’t stop her gasp of pleasure.
“I want so much more, but I’m a patient man if that’s what you need,” he murmured against her neck.
He breathed heavily, but she knew he was still in control. Sergei flexed his fingers against her hips, and she liked the pressure, wanted more. He thrust his erection against her again, his cock monstrous, thick, and long. Butterflies filled her belly, she was soaked between her thighs, and despite common sense telling her she should stop this, she had no intention of doing that.
Zoey rested her head against the side of the house, everything inside of her relaxing. She found herself thrusting her chest out and pressing it against his hardness.
He made her feel so feminine.
“God, the things you do to me, Myshka.”
His voice was husky, deep, and it felt like little fingers moving along her entire body.
She could feel how wet she was, how soaked her panties were. It was all because of Sergei, because of what he did to her. And every time he spoke, every time she heard his rough accent, her pussy muscles clenched fiercely, needing something only he could give her.
“Myshka.” He leaned in an inch more. “Little mouse, the things I want from you … want to do to you.”
She shivered at the feel of his warm, cinnamon smelling breath moving along her lips. He leaned his head to the side, and before she knew what was happening she felt his hot tongue moving along her neck.
She moaned when she felt him nip her neck.
“You smell incredible.” He ran his tongue over her flesh again. “Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head, but then found her voice. “No,” she managed to say.
His response was a deep, serrated growl.
Zoey didn’t know what was happening right now, but she did know she didn’t want it to stop. It had been too long since she’d had these emotions, sensations, moving through her. The way Sergei made her feel had every negative thing that weighed her down lifting, even if only for this moment.
****
Fuck, she felt so good, and he didn’t want to stop. Any other female he’d already have her bent over, hands braced on the brick, and his cock shoved in their pussy. But Sergei was taking his time with Zoey, exploring her mouth, feeling her body tremble for him.
He had kissed her like a man starving, like he’d never get enough.
I won’t.
Sergei moved his mouth down her throat and started licking and sucking at the base.
All he could smell was the sweet scent of Zoey.
All he could feel was the way her pulse beat right under his tongue.
Sergei was a dangerous man right down to his marrow, cold-hearted on the best of days, and had never been one to be sweet. But with Zoey he wanted to be gentle with her, wanted to go slow, and make this good for her. He was a bastard through and through, and wasn’t ashamed to admit the women he’d been with had just been in his life for one reason.
And that reason only lasted a few hours at a time, tops.
But he didn’t want to just fuck Zoey—although he could have driven nails through steel for how hard he was right now. He wanted to lay her down on his bed naked, and have her spread her legs for him so he could look at what he owned.
She breathed out harshly, and he loved he was under her skin, that she couldn’t even control her respirations.
He could have taken her right here, but she deserved better. Gritting his teeth and forcing himself to move back, Sergei cupped the side of her face. Her cheeks were red, her mouth parted, and her pupils dilated.
Leaning into her ear, he said softly, “You don’t know it yet, but you’re mine.”
“God,” was her strangled response.
“Do you want me?”
She nodded her answer.
“Where do you want me?” He slid his hand down her neck, along her collarbone, and stopped right above her breast. She started breathing harder, if that was even possible. Her tits were big, her nipples stabbing through the material of her shirt. “Show me where you want me to touch you, where you want me to make you feel good.” He leaned back an inch and looked into her face, their mouths perilously close again.
“You know where I want you,” she whispered.
He smirked. Yeah, he knew where she wanted him, but Sergei wanted to hear her say it. “Take my hand, Myshka, and put it where you want me.” He ran his tongue over her pulse point and felt it jump under his touch. She then grabbed his hand and started to lower it between their bodies.
Fuck, she was hot. His cock was rock hard, and he probably could have come right in his slacks if he didn’t have ironclad self-control.
She placed his hand on her lower belly, and he could tell she was nervous. He liked that innocence about her.
“Open your thighs for me,” he whispered.
She did as he said and then finally placed his hand between her legs, right over her pussy. The skirt she wore was on the longer side, but he gathered the material and pulled it up. Slipping his hand under the fabric, he covered her panty-covered pussy. A harsh groan left him, and he rested his head on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and breathed out roughly.
“God, you’re so damn wet, Zoey.”
“I know,” she said, her voice tight, but filled with heat.
“Is this wetness all for me, baby?” He started rubbing his fingers gently, lightly, over her pussy. He felt her shake.
“Yes.”
He shifted so he was more beside her, and pressed his erection against her side, needing that pressure. His balls were drawn up tight, his cock ready to explode.
“You want me to touch your bare pussy?” Even he could hear how thick his accent was getting, his English starting to become harder to understand for how aroused he was.
She placed her hand over his, and then pulled the side of her panties away, pushing his fingers against the most intimate part of her.
“Christ,” he gritted out. Sergei started rubbing her bare pussy lips, her wetness soaking his fingers. His cock jerked hard, demanding. He needed to be with her, needed to claim her. “You want me inside of you?”
She didn’t answer for a second, and he leaned back to look at her, still rubbing, still making her feel good. “Do you want me in here,” he said and gently pushed one of his fingers into her pussy hole.
Her mouth opened on a silent cry, and he slanted his mouth on hers thrusting his tongue inside the warm, sweet depth. He fucked her between
the lips with his tongue at the same time he fucked her pussy with his fingers. “Tell me,” he said against her mouth.
“Yes,” she moaned. “I want you in me.”
He cursed and pulled his fingers out of her, lifted them up so she could see how wet they were, and then sucked the digits clean. He groaned, staring right in her eyes, and feeling pre-cum dampen the front of his slacks. Sergei pulled the fingers free and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her again and forcing her to taste herself.
Sergei wanted her inside the house, wanted her body laid out for him, privacy giving him the opportunity to do with her as he pleased. He’d make her come, have her scream out his name, and she wouldn’t think about anything but being with him. He meant it when he said he’d protect her, that he’d make the motherfucker that hurt her pay with blood and his life.
She was his, and he’d make Zoey understand what that meant.
Chapter Nine
Sergei knew he couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d wanted to. He was too hard for Zoey, needed her too much, and she was ready and willing.
His life had always been going in fast-forward, and he’d taken what he wanted, that is when it wasn’t just handed to him. But with a female he’d been rough and raw, fucking her without any emotional attachment. He’d used them as much as they used him.
But with Zoey it was different. It felt different.
He shut the front door, and she turned and looked at him, her breathing still haggard, her desire coming off of her in waves. Sergei moved forward and closed the distance between them. He wrapped his hand around her nape, pulled her forward until he had his mouth on hers. She felt so fucking good pressed to him, her body soft where his was hard.
“I want you,” he said on a groan, and her response was a breathy moan. “I want to make you mine.” He knew she wouldn’t understand how much he meant those words. Hell, things were going fast, what he felt was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and Sergei wasn’t going to let this go.
He wasn’t going to let her go.