by Jenika Snow
She needed someone like him in her life, or at least that’s what he told himself, trying to make this situation better. He knew he was a bastard, a motherfucker of the worst kind. But with her he’d protect her until he drew his last breath. He’d make sure anyone that thought about touching her, that even looked at her the wrong way wouldn’t breathe after the fact.
She was his, the same as he was hers.
Those are dangerous thoughts.
“Let’s go to my room,” she said, and he wasn’t about to prolong this anymore.
Going slow was so fucking overrated, especially when it came to Zoey.
She led him down the short hallway and into her bedroom. It smelled like her, fresh and clean, with a hint of lemons.
He still had hold of her hand, and spun her around so she was facing him again. Sergei didn’t bother with shutting the door. They were alone, and in her room. That’s all that mattered.
Zoey rose on her toes and started kissing him, and he let her lead, let her take this one moment of control. For his entire life Sergei had been the one that called the shots, had the power. To have this fragile, innocent women pulling at him, as if she wanted to crawl in his kiss, had this different kind of pleasure filling him.
It was like something opened up in her, like she found her own strength. She speared her hands in his hair, tugged at the strands, and made these small noises in the back of her throat.
He fucking loved those sounds.
“Make that again for me,” he said, holding her close, letting her have the control.
He sucked her tongue into his mouth, and she obliged him, making that soft, sweet moan that had his cock jerking behind his fly. Sergei wanted her to surrender every part of herself to him, wanted her to know that this was it, that he’d give her everything. She felt good in his arms, really fucking good, in fact. Once he had claimed her, fucked her and let her know she was his, Sergei was not going to let her walk away.
Don’t frighten her. She’s been through a lot.
She broke the kiss and looked up at him. Her lips were swollen, red, and wet from their kissing.
“I’m scared of how I feel.”
He could see on her face that honesty was hard for her to get out.
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he said, hoping to reassure her.
She looked at his lips, and he couldn’t hold back the groan and the arousal reflected back at him. “I feel like I should have this foreboding sensation given my past … and your life. But I don’t,” she whispered the last part. “This feels so right.”
Yeah, it fucking did.
“Does it feel good, baby? Am I making you feel good?” He wanted to hear her say it.
She nodded, and he moved his thumb along her cheekbones, reveling in the way her skin was so soft. “This feels so good to me, Zoey. You feel really fucking right in my arms.” He ran his tongue along her lips, swallowing the sound that came from her. “How can something that feels so right be wrong?”
“I feel I might be damaged because of what happened, because he’s still out there.”
“The only thing that matters is the here and now. Don’t worry about the rest right now.” He cupped the side of her face, his hand spanned from her jawbone to her temple. She was so damn small compared to him.
“I’m worried he’s still out there and will come for me. I don’t want you involved in that.”
He could have smiled for how concerned she was for him. Even with the fact she knew who and what he was, Zoey was worried for him.
No one worried about him.
He gripped the base of her skull possessively. “I hope he does come, because it’ll make hunting him down easier,” he said and leaned down to kiss her softly. “I’m going after him regardless, going to make him pay. If he’s foolish enough to come for you, then that’ll be the last time he opens his eyes.”
“You must think I’m ridiculous for thinking you’d need protecting from the likes of him,” she said softly.
She really had no concept of the type of man he was. But he supposed that was a good thing. He didn’t want her involved in the shit he dealt with. He wanted to protect her from everyone else, but also from the fucked up shit he did in life.
“I don’t.” He wanted to say so much more, to tell her she should run the other direction from him, that he was dangerous, more deadly than some motherfucker that had hurt her … that would die by his hands sooner rather than later. But he was also a selfish bastard, and he wasn’t going to tell her to leave, to go as far from him as she could, even if that would have been what was right for her. “I came to America to do one job, but I find myself falling hard for you, Myshka.”
For the first time in his life he was expressing his emotions. It felt good.
The silence stretched between them, and in that short time the air heated further. The chemistry was electrified between them, and he knew things were about to get even more intense.
She stared at him for a second, and he wondered if she’d finally come to her senses and realize he was not for her, that his life was too dangerous. He would fucking hate it, but he also wouldn’t have stopped her from going.
The fuck I wouldn’t.
Who the hell was he kidding?
“I can’t let you go,” was all he said before she was the one to slant her mouth on his. “Trust me to do right by you, even if this is fucking crazy all around,” he murmured, grabbed her hair, and tilted her head back, baring her throat. He stared down at her face, saw her mouth was parted, her pupils dilated. And when he watched her tongue poke out and run along her bottom lip, as if she needed to taste his kiss, he let the beast free.
Sergei kissed her again and again, hard, consuming kisses that sucked the breath from her and had her gasping out against him.
“I’m tired of being afraid, of not taking my life back,” she seemed to say to herself. Zoey then kissed him with more need and desperation.
Their tongues slid against each other. It was full of heat, full of passion. He was hard, so fucking hard for Zoey he couldn’t even think straight. Hell, he was surprised he didn’t have her on the bed with his cock in her already.
Sergei ground his erection into her belly to ease the ache, but all that did was make him impossibly harder. He felt this need for her that took control, that twisted him up inside. It was a need that wasn’t just about wanting to feel himself buried balls deep inside of her. It was also a desire to own her, to make her irrevocably his.
Zoey was pliant in his arms, pressing her breasts against his chest, moaning against his mouth. Sergei moved his hand lower until he got to the hem of her shirt. He wanted her naked, wanted her nude body bared for him, spread out for him.
“You want this?”
She nodded her response.
He had the shirt off of her in seconds flat, all but tearing it from her body. And when he pulled her up against his chest again she gasped.
The sound was like angels fucking singing.
“God, Zoey baby, I could devour you right now until there wasn’t anything left, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” He forced the words out. “It’ll never be enough.” He took the bra off next, and looked down at her breasts. His dick punched forward even harder when he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pulled at the already turgid flesh. Her skin tightened further, the peak a dark rose color. His mouth watered, his heart thundering.
Over and over he pulled at her nipple, alternating between her breasts until she was gasping, and thrusting her chest out for more.
The skirt she wore needed to go, too. He moved his hands to the hem of the material, but stopped and started kissing her more possessively once again. Sergei felt feral when it came to her. He wanted to mark her body so anyone that looked at her knew she was his. He wanted her screaming out his name when he filled her with his cock.
“I need you fully naked. I need to be inside of you, Zoey.”
“Don’t stop.” She slanted her
mouth on his and speared her tongue between his parted lips. Back was the desperation, but it was the good kind, the kind that he felt down to his bones. It was the kind he wanted more of.
In one swift move he tore his clothes away until he was bare-chested. He pulled her close to him, wanting to feel her nude flesh against his. Reaching between them he cupped her breasts while he licked and sucked at her mouth. He squeezed the mounds until she was rocking back and forth against his erection, digging her belly into the hard length. He was nearly coming from that alone.
“I need more, Zoey.” Sergei was already near his breaking point. Moving his hands lower, he tore at her skirt, pushed her panties down, and cupped her pussy. She was wet, soaking for him.
“God, Sergei,” she said on this hot little breathy moan.
He rubbed his finger through her slit, but wanted to touch all of her, memorize every inch of her body. Sliding both of his hands behind her, he cupped her ass. He continued to kiss her as he held the big globes in his hands, his fingers seeming to clench around the flesh
“Christ,” he gritted out. “I’m so hard for you.” He moved his mouth to her ear and said in a guttural voice, “For as much as I want foreplay, I need to be inside of you, baby.”
She shivered after he spoke, and that was a good fucking reaction to have for what he wanted to do. “I need you inside of me.”
And then he was done, just fucking done because he had to have her right now.
****
It was like an animal had been unleashed inside of her Sergei. He possessed every inch of her, made her feel like there wasn’t anything else that mattered than this moment, and God, did that make her feel so good.
His body was hard, ripped. Every inch of him was rippling with muscles, and despite the fact he still wore his pants, the hard outline of his huge cock could be felt clearly through the material. While holding her ass, he turned them around and walked her backward until the wall stopped her movements. He pressed her against the chilled wallpaper and then moved his hand between their bodies.
“I wanted to go slow, treat you right.”
She shook her head, her breaths coming in hard pants. “I don’t want slow. I need this.”
He started undoing his pants, and before she knew what was happening they were both naked. Sweat covered her entire body, but it was the good kind of perspiration, the kind that told her she was worked up.
Maybe this was a bad idea, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right, so damn right. What was so wrong with wanting something for herself?
Nothing. There isn’t anything wrong with this. Shut the hell up with those thoughts.
And she did. She pushed those negative thoughts right out of her head and just felt.
“Touch me,” he said on a long, deep groan.
She reached between them, grabbed his cock, and gasped.
He was huge. She might have guessed as much by the feel of him pressed against her belly, but actually holding all of his flesh, feeling how thick he was, how long, her entire body could have melted into a puddle right then and she wouldn’t have cared.
He kissed her again, harder and faster than before, and she knew that there was no stopping this.
There was no turning back.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck. You’re so damn receptive to me, so primed.” He groaned against her neck.
“Jesus,” he grunted. “I want you so fucking badly.” He started thrusting against her pussy. The feel of his hard cock against her slick folds had a gasp leaving her.
“Please.” Zoey didn’t know what she was saying please to, just that she needed him to continue. She wanted to feel him stretch her, fill every part of her, and have the world fade away.
And then he was reaching between their bodies, taking hold of his dick, and placing it at her entrance.
He rubbed his cock along her cleft, up and down, and bumping her clit with every upstroke. “Fuck, you are so wet for me.”
She felt his cock jerk between her legs.
They held each other’s gazes for long seconds, and then they crashed their mouths together at the same time, as if they couldn’t control themselves. He tangled his hands in her hair, tugged at the strands, and nipped at her lips. Zoey became wetter by the second, her arousal so intense she knew it could never be matched.
Without thinking, because at this point all she wanted was Sergei shoved so deep inside of her she couldn’t even think coherently, she reached down and grabbed his length.
“Fuck, baby.”
She angled the tip at her entrance, stared into his eyes, and pleaded with him to fuck her without actually saying the words.
He had a firm hold on her ass, holding her off the ground, his muscles straining, his body tense. He jerked his hips forward, and the tip of his dick became lodged in her. She was so stretched already, and he wasn’t even fully in her body yet.
He let go of one of her ass cheeks, slid his hand up her body, and placed it right beside her head. He leaned in another inch. “I’m going to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”
Her heart jumped to her throat.
When he slid in another inch, stretching her so good, so powerfully, she arched against him, thrusting her chest against his. He had a light sprinkling of chest hair along his pecs, and the tattoos that covered his arms in full sleeves, and snaked over his shoulders to his back, turned her on. They were a mixture of shapes and designs, but there were also Russian words inked on his skin. For some reason, even though she didn’t speak the language, she just knew they had to do with the Bratva.
He ground his teeth, and the sound shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was, but it was like he was losing control.
Her pussy muscles clenched around his cock. “You’re so big.”
His response was a grunt.
He rested his forehead against hers, and they panted against each other’s mouths.
“I hope you’re ready, little mouse, because I’m about to fuck you until you know you’re mine.” She saw the way he clenched his jaw. “God, you’re so damn wet and hot.” In one swift move he was buried fully inside of her. “So tight,” he breathed out those two words.
She let her head fall back against the wall and closed her eyes. It felt like she was burning alive from the inside out. Sergei started moving in and out of her, faster and harder.
He pumped into her, the air around them charged, heated.
Maybe she should have worried about the fact he wasn’t wearing a condom, or that she wasn’t on the pill. But her mind was so hazy.
“Condom,” she gasped when he thrust deep in her.
“I’m clean,” was his reply.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’m not on the pill.”
He didn’t respond right away, just kept pumping into her. At the moment she didn’t care about anything but how he made her feel.
“I’ll take care of you, of whatever happens, Myshka.”
That shouldn’t have sent a thrill through her, or had this warmth stealing over her.
I should be smarter about this.
I can’t think straight.
There was no part of her he wasn’t touching.
He curled his arm around her waist, and his fingers dug into her skin. Zoey wrapped her legs around his hips tighter, grinding herself on his dick. The sound of their flesh slapping together, was filthy, erotic.
She felt no shame at the sound that came from her.
The root of his cock rubbed against her clit every time he slammed into her, and she knew she’d be coming sooner rather than later.
“You feel so fucking good.” He ground the words out, and closed his eyes for a second before he opened them again and stared at her. Sweat beaded his brow, his look intense. “Fuck.” He slammed into her especially hard, and then slowly pulled out of her until just the tip was lodged in her pussy. “Ask me for more.”
“I need more,” she said instantly.
He slammed
back into her hard and powerfully, and slanted his mouth on hers, kissing her until she felt like her lips would bleed.
“I want to see you get off. I want to feel your pussy milking my dick until I fill you with my seed.”
She opened her mouth and sucked in a lungful of air.
He reached between them and pressed his thumb to her clit. “I want to see the expression cover your face as you let go, as you taste freedom.” He rubbed the bundle back and forth, and added a little more pressure with each passing second. She needed him to fuck her, to move as he rubbed her clit. “That’s it,” he murmured, as if speaking to himself. Running his tongue along her jawline, he stopped when he reached her ear. “You’re mine, Myshka.”
Yes, yes she was.
“Mine.”
The way he said that one word was animalistic, like he was possessed, determined to make her see she was his in all ways.
And the craziest part of it all, the most insane notion of this whole situation wasn’t that he’d said the words, but that she wanted them to be true.
He slammed into her again and again, applied more pressure to her clit until she was about to come again, and all she could do was hold on and absorb it all. But just as she felt that crest of pleasure about to claim her, Sergei slowed.
She could have screamed out in frustration.
“I’m trying to make this last, but you feel too fucking good, baby,” he grunted out the words against her neck.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He was breathing hard against her neck, the warm, humid pants bathing her flesh.
If I say it I know it’ll be real. This will be real.
“Baby, please, tell me you’re mine. I need to hear it.”
“Sergei,” she whispered his name.
He groaned and started shallowly thrusting in and out of her.
It didn’t take much for her to feel herself falling over the edge.
“Come for me,” he commanded.
And she did. Just like that.
Zoey came long and hard, and heard him make this serrated sound against her neck.
“Say it, Zoey,” he said the words as a demand. “Tell me you’re mine.” His accent was thick.
She gasped as she stared into his fierce expression.