You can’t choose your own blood,” Ben said, pouring a shot glass full of vodka. “Better to face that now, know the truth and take control of your life.”

They were back at his loft now, Pavlov snoozing at her feet as she sat at the breakfast bar once more. Ben poured himself a shot, then clinked his glass with hers, which still sat on the counter. She wasn’t much of a drinker, other than wine. In fact, she’d never had vodka before in her life. Lucy watched as Ben knocked back his shot in one swallow, the sleek muscles of his neck working as he swallowed. Molten heat pooled low in her core, spiraling outward to zing through her nervous system. Despite what he’d told her earlier, despite knowing the wisest move would be for her to walk away now and never look back again, despite everything she’d learned about her father and Ben’s mission earlier today—despite it all, Lucy stayed where she was. Rooted in place by determination and no small measure of pure, unadulterated lust for the gorgeous man before her. Also, the fact that she was locked out of her apartment. That made it hard to leave too. But she knew that wasn’t the real reason.

She’d had her share of experiences with men, but there was something about Ben—his quiet intelligence, his take-no-shit attitude, his stealth sexiness—that made her want him more than she’d ever wanted another man.

“Go on,” he urged her, grinning, his teeth white and even against his tanned skin. “Try it.”

Lucy kept her gave locked with his as she picked up the tiny shot glass and downed the contents in one gulp. Her eyes widened as her throat erupted into flames. Soon, tears filled and she was coughing and spluttering like a beached carp. Not exactly the look she was going for in front of this sex god.

“Breathe,” he commanded, rubbing her back in slow circles. “The first time is always the worst.” Ben chuckled, the sound low and sexy, sending a fresh wave of heat through Lucy’s system and sending her into a coughing jag once more. Ben kept stroking her back and the more he touched her, the better it felt. He ducked to catch her eye and smiled. “Better now?”

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

“Good.” He straightened and walked away at last.

She sucked in a much-needed breath and wiped her watery eyes on the hem of her huge T-shirt. Pavlov watched her from the spot in the corner where he’d run to when the whole fiasco started, his gaze wary. Big, he was. Brave, he was not. By the time she’d composed herself and leaned against the bar again, it was to find another shot of vodka waiting for her.

“Oh, no. I’m done with that for now She pushed the tiny glass away. “Maybe forever.”

“Nonsense,” Ben said, gulping down another shot before filling his glass for the third time. “The worst is over. The first shot burns the worst…” He clinked his shot glass against hers where it still sat on the bar, untouched. His molten amber gaze never left hers, causing a new heat to rise within in her—different from the fire in her throat from the alcohol, but no less potent. “…after that, there is only pleasure.”

The way he drew out the word, adding just a hint of his wicked sexy Russian accent, made her already fizzing blood boil with need. Her rational mind made a final desperate warning that it was entirely possible he was trying to get her drunk so he could ply her for information, but her libido quickly overruled her caution. Or maybe it was the alcohol in her system. Or both.

Either way, she was reaching for her second serving of vodka before she realized she was doing it.

Ben watched her closely, gaze narrowed, waiting with his own drink poised at his lips. “Go on, milen'kiy. This time we’ll experience the pleasure together.”

Head feeling a bit fuzzy now, Lucy raised her glass and grinned. “Dosvedanya!”

He gave her a curious look. “You are leaving now?”

Lucy frowned. “No, why?”

“Dosvedanya means goodbye in Russian.”

Embarrassment prickled her cheeks. “Oh. Sorry.” Her shoulders slumped. “That’s the only Russian toast I know. I learned it from the movies.”

Snorting, Ben raised his glass to her. “This one is much better. Say ‘Za to, chtoby sbyvalis mechty’ instead.”

She tried, but her tongue got all twisted and she bungled it badly. Ben leaned his hips back against the counter behind him and watched her, his smile indulgent. He didn’t look the least bit affected by his vodka. In fact, he looked hotter and sexier than ever, while her head was swimming and her limbs tingled, and she couldn’t seem to stop staring at his luscious mouth. She blinked hard, staring at those full lips of his, wondering if they felt as soft as they looked. “What does that mean?”

“The toast?” he said, his voice sounding deeper, gravellier now. “It means ‘Let all our dreams come true.’” With that, he tossed back his third shot while Lucy downed her second. Surprisingly, he was right. This time, the alcohol went down without a snag, warming her belly and disintegrating what was left of her inhibitions. She slid off her stool and slowly walked around the large granite island to stand before him.

“What’s yours?” she said, licking her lips and tasting the vodka there. He followed the tiny movement with his eyes and her toes curled inside her socks.

“What’s my what?” Ben asked, reaching past her to grab her empty shot glass then placing it in the sink along with his. His arm brushed against her, causing a fresh wave of lust to crash through her nerve endings. He recapped the bottle of vodka and put it back into the cabinet.

“Your dream,” she said, stepping closer to him and catching another whiff of his cologne—woodsy and fresh—mixed with soap and a hint of his own unique scent. “What do you want most in the world right now?”

He met her gaze, banked heat and desire glowing in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is my duty.”

Unable to resist any longer, Lucy reached out and traced the tip of her index finger down the middle of his chest, over his rock-hard abs, stopping at the waistband of his dark washed jeans. Muscles clenched beneath her gentle touch and she didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath. “How about tonight, for one night only, we forget about that. Forget about everything outside of this loft, and concentrate only on the two of us and what we desire here, now, together.”

To seal the deal, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the base of his strong, tanned throat, right over his hammering pulse point, her tongue sneaking out to taste him. At her caress, Ben groaned low, the sound full of fury and fire and deep, unrequited need. His head fell back and his eyes closed as his hands came to settle on her waist. It had been a while since she’d gone to bed with a man, but the sudden hardness pressing against her lower belly was unmistakable.

He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Now, all she had to do was find a way past that damned rigid control of his and convince him to let loose, just for tonight, just with her.

Lucy smiled against his skin, slipping her fingers beneath the hem of his black T-shirt to trace over his soft, smooth, warm, skin. Electricity tingled through her from the contact. “Come on. It would be incredible between us. Don’t deny it.”

Her words seemed to break him out of his spell, at least partially. With a determined sigh, Ben set her away from him and turned to face the sink, rinsing out their shot glasses then setting them in the drying rack beside the sink. “Nyet.”

“No?” She crossed her arms. “No, you don’t think the sex would be incredible or no to you and me?”

Ben hung his head as he picked up a nearby dishtowel. “No to you and me. We have an agreement, Lucy. Obligations. Commitments. To throw all my plans away for one reckless night, no matter how incredible, goes against everything I’ve worked for, everything I am.”

Not ready to give up yet, Lucy crossed her arms and rested her hips against the island. “Isn’t it hard being so in control all the time? Don’t you ever wish you could just let go and really live, even for one evening?” She gave a sad chuckle. “Who am I kidding, right? Knowing you, you’ve probably had your whole life planned out since you were two.”

He put the glasses away then walked farther down the counter before turning to face her, putting more distance between them. His expression, rather than his usual stoicism, showed resignation and a hint of regret. “The truth is, milen'kiy, my life now is nothing like I thought it would be. I always imagined I’d become a great architect, or at least own my own construction company by now. Instead, I am still in service to my family. And I will be until I complete my responsibilities.”

“Which means tracking down my father.”

“Da.”

With her emotions in turmoil from the booze, Lucy felt the unexpected sting of tears welling in her eyes. “You must hate me, right? For the things my father’s done? No wonder you don’t want to sleep with me.”

Ben was at her side in an instant, his fingers gently tipping her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “No, milen'kiy, hate is the polar opposite of what I’m feeling for you now. And I don’t blame you for the sins of your father, any more than I equate myself with the sins of mine.” He inched closer, his gaze locked on her mouth. “And as far as wanting to sleep with you, I’d love nothing more than to tear off your clothes and take you right here. Does that answer your question?”

Her breath ragged with want, Lucy acted on pure impulse. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, locking them together, then kissing him hard and deep. At first, Ben seemed immobilized by shock then his hands gripped her hips tight, angling her against his cock so that he rubbed her just right. They rocked together, jolts of bright passion searing away any thoughts in Lucy’s mind except this man, this moment, this incredible chemistry between them.

With a muffled curse against her lips, Ben held her tight as he walked them down the hall and into his bedroom. They tumbled together onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and kisses and moans.

Ben tore his mouth from hers and quickly tugged off her hoodie and T-shirt, leaving her in just her lacy bra from the waist up. He straddled her waist with his knees, effectively trapping her beneath him, as he pinned her wrists to the bed. He leaned over her, his amber eyes sparkling in the dim light from the streetlights outside. Cursing softly, Ben ducked his head, emotions warring on his handsome face, the muscles in his arms twitching from the strain of holding himself back. “We should not be doing this. I should stop this now. You should stop me now. This is…insane. You make me insane with need for you.”

She blinked up at him, grinning slow. “Did you just decide to fuck me to control me?”

“I have thought of little else each time I looked at you since we met. Thoughts of fucking you, as you so crudely put it, have haunted me every second you’ve been around.”

Lucy laughed, unhooking her bra and tossing it over the side of the mattress. Whether it was the alcohol or the man, she’d never felt freer in her life. Emboldened, she ran her hands slowly up his thighs, stopping just short of touching his bulging cock through his jeans, then slid her fingers up either side of his crotch to his waistband. His abs trembled beneath her touch, a testament to how much he wanted her too, how tightly reined his libido was.

“Shit.” The guttural curse escaped him just before he tugged off his own shirt. “You are going to drive me crazy.”

“Good.” She reveled in the feel of his hot skin beneath her palms, toying with his hard nipples until she elicited a soft groan of pleasure from him. “You aren’t the only one who’s been imagining this.”

By the time she reached his waistband again and flicked open the button on his jeans, his breath was nearly panting, hers too. Slowly, she lowered the zip to release his hard cock. No underwear. Lucy wasn’t sure if that was a mafia thing or a Russian thing or a Ben thing. All she did know was that she was eternally grateful for his choice tonight. She took him in hand, slowly stroking his engorged flesh as he loomed over her, his eyes half-lidded, his expression pure passion.

His words lapsed into Russian and he bent to nuzzle her neck while she palmed him. Strange endearments heated her skin as he whispered them into her hair, her ear, against her cheek.

“I wanted to stay in control, but you shatter me, milen'kiy.”

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked, as breathless as he was. “Milen'kiy?”

“Sweetheart,” Ben said, removing her hand from him then rolling them over so she was stretched out atop him as he made quick work of her jeans and panties. “I want to taste you and tease you.”

Her jeans had no more hit the floor than she was on her back again, Ben pressing her down into the mattress as he kissed his way down her naked body, stopping to pay homage to her breasts before trailing his tongue down her middle, making a beeline for the throbbing wetness between her legs. He parted her thighs, placing his large hands on either leg to position her as he wanted, then he bent to lick her. Lucy cried out at this first touch, arching into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as he took her sensitive clit between his lips and sucked gently.

Slowly, he worked first one, then two, fingers into her slick channel, easing her open for him, driving her need for him higher, higher… until it all became too much and she exploded into a million shards of sensation and desire. He continued to lick and suckle her through her intense orgasm, drawing out every last bit of tension from her body until she lay slack and sated beneath him. Then he kissed his way back up her body to her mouth, kissing her deeply before pulling away.

Lucy protested, afraid he would leave her, but he only tugged off his jeans then fumbled in the nightstand drawer for a tiny foil packet. He tore the condom open with his teeth then slicked it on before climbing back into bed and over her once more.

“I need you so badly, milen'kiy.”

“Good,” she said, reaching between them to take his cock in hand again, guiding him to her wet entrance. “I need you inside me. Now!”

With a growl, Ben drove hilt-deep into her then held still, his forehead resting against hers as her body adjusted to the size and width of him. Her Russian was not a small man by any standard and she loved every long inch of him throbbing inside her. Still, though, she sensed he was holding back, holding himself in check, and she wanted him to let go, just for tonight, just with her.

“Yes! Give it to me,” she said, leaning up to nip his shoulder as she dug her heels into the tight muscles of his ass. “Fuck me.”

Teeth gritted, Ben narrowed his heated gaze on her. “Such a filthy mouth on you, milen'kiy.”

She grinned, feeling him pull out almost to his tip then slam back inside her hard, just how she liked it. “Yes. And you love it, don’t you?”

He snarled and pounded into her again. “God, help me. Yes! Your filthy mouth makes me want to take you so hard and so long, Lucy. Keep going, Lucy.”

“Of course.” She laughed, writhing against him as he thrust faster, deeper into her, digging her nails into his upper back. “Give me every inch of that cock of yours. Make me come.”

“Oh, yeah.” He cupped her breasts gently, biting her neck as he toyed with her straining nipples. She groaned, clenching around him as another climax built within her. “Tell me how you feel, milen'kiy. Tell me how I make you feel.”

“You… you…” Lucy struggled to catch her breath, reaching over her head to grip the wrought iron bars of his headboard to brace herself. “God! You make me feel so good, like I’m going to burn up with need, like every inch of me is on fire for you. I feel so full and so wet and so wanton with your body pounding into mine. I… oh… I-I’m going to… Oh!”

“Yes!” Ben hissed his strokes becoming stronger, more urgent. “Come for me, Lucy. Open your eyes and look at me when you come for me!”

She did as he commanded, eyes wide as a second orgasm hit her hard, driving her to even higher heights than the first. Gazes locked, Ben thrust into her once, twice, before throwing his head back and growling loud as he came inside her.

Together, they rode out their pulsing pleasure until, at last, Ben collapsed atop her on the bed, his weight warm and comforting. He rested his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin for several moments until he rolled away to lay on his back beside her, silent.

“Wow,” Lucy said at last, struggling to keep her eyes open. “That was…wow!”

Ben exhaled slowly then pushed up into a sitting position. “That was a mistake.”

Hurt stabbed deep into her chest. She’d had one-nighters before, but at least those guys had waited until the afterglow wore off before bailing. Not to mention the fact she’d somehow thought Ben was different. Yes, they’d only known each other two days and yes, this had obviously been a spur of the moment, possibly vodka-induced, bit of insanity, but he’d seemed so honorable, so loyal and true, that she’d expected…more from him.

Pavlov’s nails skittered against the hardwood floor as he approached the bedroom door cautiously from the hallway. His sad whimpers perfectly reflected the stinging sadness inside Lucy’s heart. While Ben used the restroom then tugged on his jeans and shirt, without another word to her, Lucy got up and gathered her scattered clothes from the floor, holding them in front of her as she backed toward the door. “I should, um, go take care of the dog.”

“Da.” Ben stood, his back to her as he ran a hand through his mussed dark hair. “You should go back to your room with Pavlov. I need to think.”

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, determined not to cry. She was a big girl, had gone into this knowing exactly what it was. Crying now would be stupid. Pavlov’s soft fur brushed the back of her naked legs as she shuffled into the hallway. “I’ll see you in the morning, I guess.”

Ben didn’t answer, just sank down on the edge of his bed in the dark, looking at her through the shadows, his amber eyes haunted.

Lucy rushed back to the guest room and shut the door then leaned against it, the wood hard and cold as she slid to the floor, crying. Tonight had been a mistake. She could blame it on the vodka, but deep down she knew the truth. She’d wanted Ben Volkov and she’d had him.

Now she’d have to deal with the consequences.

Never in a million years had she wanted to get involved with a man with a shady past, not after the heartache she’d seen her mother go through. But now?

Now she’d gone and done exactly what she’d said she never do. It had turned into a disaster for her mother and now, if Ben’s current cold-shoulder reaction was any indication, this night was heading down the same road for her.

Tears burned, running down her cheeks as Pavlov snuggled in beside her on the floor.

Now she’d gone and fallen hard for the last man on earth she should ever have wanted.

Ben Volkov—control freak, Bratva enforcer, her knight in tarnished armor.