15
Vasilije
Even though Oksana didn’t weigh a lot, she shifted around and was a bitch to carry. I’d done more of a leg day today than upper body, and thank fuck for that. I stormed toward the sectional leather couch and hurled her on it, watching her head bounce as she flopped down on the cushions.
Her blonde hair splashed around her, and she gazed up at me with wild eyes. Did I look deranged? She pissed me off. One minute I’d thought we’d had something, like . . . an understanding. Her faint smile when I’d told her the gritty shit about Ivan’s death had lit me up.
But why wasn’t she willing to return the favor, and tell me the details when she’d taken someone else’s life? If she wanted to be unfair, I’d show her just how unfair I could be.
She tried to scramble backward, but I put a knee on the couch cushion, seized the belt loops of her jeans, and jerked her back to me. I jammed the top of my thigh between her legs and watched discomfort twist her face. “What?” I growled. “You don’t like it now? You fucking loved it last night.”
I undid the snap at the top of her jeans before she realized what I was doing. She tried to push my hands away, but I was stronger and faster, and dropped her zipper. I dug my fingers around the waistband and jerked her pants down, even as she twisted and struggled to make me stop.
“Fuck me, you’re not wearing anything under these?” I grinned, as the virgin scowled. She hadn’t wanted to put the panties back on after her shower, but what about the bra? I shoved a hand under the hem of her black sweater and flipped it up, getting a flash of the white, see-through bra.
“You listened when I told you to get dressed in the shit I bought you.” I shifted so I was standing beside the couch and put one hand on the back of it. “Why’d you decide now to stop being a good girl?”
She was distracted trying to put her sweater back in place, so I used the opportunity to pull her pants the rest of the way down to her knees. I loved the look of her. The pale, smooth skin covering her thighs and the darkened triangle just above her pussy. I wanted to bury my face in it. Lick her from front to back until she was begging or screaming, or both. But I wasn’t about to reward her. She needed to get her ass back in line, and realize who she belonged to.
And speaking of ass . . .
When a panicked Oksana sat up and reached to pull her pants back in place, I grabbed her arms and shoved her over the back of the couch so her ass was up in the air. It looked heart-shaped like this, her pretty pussy peeking out at the bottom. I put one hand on the small of her back, pushing her down when she tried to move. Then, I slapped my other palm against her skin, and the loud crack echoed under the vaulted ceilings.
“Ahuyet!” she gasped.
I spanked her again, and it had to hurt because my palm stung. “Speak English,” I ordered. “What’d you just say?”
Her breath came and went in heavy heaves. “It doesn’t make sense in English.”
I slapped her on the other cheek and watched it pink up. My handprint was already visible on her skin, and I curled my mouth into a half-smile. She looked good like that. Branded as mine, even if she wasn’t wearing anything I’d bought her there. “Try me.”
Her voice was tight. “It’s like a . . . more vulgar way to say, ‘oh my fucking God.’”
More vulgar. “I like your obscene mouth, especially when it’s blowing me.” As I smacked her ass, the impact rippled over her skin. It was so incredibly hot. As she whimpered, my cock twitched. “But right now, I want you to tell me every goddamn detail, you little murderer.”
She jolted as I slapped her bright red ass, and this time I left my palm against her burning skin. I moved my fingertips over the curve of her cheek, sliding them down until they grazed her pussy. Her skin was damp and slick, and I rubbed a tight circle over her clit.
Jesus fuck, her strangled moan had me rock hard in a half-second.
“Vasilije . . .” She was pleading, but for what? For me to fuck her? To leave her alone? Maybe I was playing this all wrong. What if the best way to punish her wasn’t with pain, but with pleasure? To turn her body against herself?
I grabbed the ankles of her wadded jeans and tugged until her legs were free, leaving her naked from the waist down. “Get that goddamn sweater off now.”
Her arms shook as she pulled the knitted fabric over her head and let it drop over the back of the couch. I sat down and pulled her on top of me so she was sitting in my lap facing away from me, wearing only the flimsy bra. I fisted the band behind her back and pressed down on her hip, making her grind against my aching cock.
“Nothing to say?” I demanded, tugging on the elastic band. I wanted to undo my jeans and shove my cock so deep inside her she’d bleed all over me, but I was too focused right now. This was a battle of wills, and I was going to fucking win. No one was more stubborn than I was.
“Awesome,” I said. “We get to do this the fun way. Get your knees under you.” She turned and peered at me over her shoulder, looking as if she were both nervous and confused. I pushed and pulled at her until I had her positioned as I wanted—her straddling my lap away from me and shins against the couch cushions. I opened my legs to make room.
She cried out as I shoved her forward, and she flung her hands out onto the rug, stopping herself from tumbling face-first off my lap and onto the floor. The submissive position couldn’t be that comfortable for her. Her head was down and her ass up, but it was fucking perfect. I was comfortable and had all the access I wanted, her pussy right in front of me. She’d stare at my feet and her hands that were on the expensive Persian rug as I played. I’d tease and torture until she gave me everything.
“You stay like this until I say otherwise, you understand?” I spanked her, but this one was nothing. All it did was get her attention.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her body was quaking, and I skimmed my fingertips over the ridges of her spine. Power flooded through me.
“Did you plan it?” I asked. “Did you have murderous thoughts in that little head of yours leading up to it?” Her pink pussy was so lush and soft. I ran a finger through her wetness, swirling it over her clit.
“It was . . . defensive.”
Ah, so the girl was willing to talk after all. But . . . “That’s only half an answer.” I pressed two fingers to her and slid them back and forth, manipulating the bud of flesh that made her squirm.
She got her words out through pants of breath. “It was impulsive. But I thought about . . . killing him before.”
“Why?” I tensed. “He touched you more than once?”
It took her a goddamn lifetime to answer. “Whenever my father wasn’t around, he’d find a way to get me alone.”
Rage fired along my muscles. Not anger at her, but at the asshole she’d killed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I did.”
Shit. I didn’t blame her for sounding defensive. I smoothed my hands over her ass. She must have removed the Band-Aid at some point, and I couldn’t see where the needle had gone in. Had the spankings hurt more against the sore muscle? She’d barely made a sound. How high was her tolerance for pain?
“Who’d you tell?” I asked.
“My father. He didn’t believe me. He said he talked to the guy and he . . . wouldn’t touch me again.” Her words were full of significance. “But nothing changed. If anything, it got worse.”
I’d made her the same promise, but the difference was I’d absolutely keep mine. “When I said no one else would touch you, I fucking meant it. I don’t like people touching my shit.” I skated my fingers through her crevice. “And this? This is all mine. You’re my property.”
Shivers rolled up her legs. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin. Once she got over her initial reaction, she was so responsive to my touch, and that wasn’t lost on me. She was wet. Turned on, not disgusted.
“Sounds to me,” I said, “like your dad was a piece of shit.” I rested my left hand on her ass and swirled the pad of my right thumb over her clit, making her shudder again. I lined up my index finger and slowly began to press it inside her, just up to the first knuckle. “Tell me what happened.”
Her whole body tensed at the intrusion, and the words spilled from her. “The man cornered me in my father’s office. I fought back, and—oh!”
I eased a little further, and one of her hands wrapped around my ankle, squeezing. I paused, letting her get used to the sensation. She was tight. Her pussy gripped my finger. “Keep talking.”
“I knew where the gun was stashed in the room. I thought I’d just threaten him with it, but then it was in my hand, and he was . . . he was smiling at me . . .”
I’d seen that same smile and knew what it meant. “He didn’t believe you’d use it.”
She said it like a joke, but her voice was shallow. “I showed him.”
Yeah, she certainly did, and I grinned darkly. She was like me after all, and I had no fucking idea why I liked it so much. I sank my finger deeper inside and moved my other hand down so I could rub and finger fuck her at the same time.
My dick pressed against my fly and throbbed, and it got worse when she moaned softly. I wanted to make her come, but I wanted to finish the conversation, and that desire won out. “Where’d you get him?”
“The chest. My hand was shaking too much to aim for his head.” She gulped down a breath. “Oh my God. I can’t talk like this.”
I pulsed my finger in and out of her slowly, watching it disappear inside and come back out glistening from how wet I was making her. My tone was evil. “But you’re doing great.” Her grip on my ankle tightened and her hips moved. They shifted subtly, but I caught the action. Oh, it was feeling good for her now. “What’d you do with the body?”
“He was still alive when my father came in, but he died on the way to the doctor. I don’t know where they dumped him.”
“How’d you feel right after you did it?”
She didn’t answer.
“Tell me the truth, and don’t feed me that line of bullshit again about how you don’t have feelings.” I fucked her faster and increased the pressure with my fingertips. She didn’t respond, and it annoyed me to no end. This question was really the heart of what I wanted to know. To see how deep our similarities ran. “Oksana. Answer me, goddamnit.”
“I felt empty,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I was supposed to feel bad, but . . . I couldn’t. I stared at him bleeding out, and I was so fucking glad I’d pulled the trigger. That’s all I felt.”
Her words poured pleasure on me, and I froze. I had to hold perfectly still as the effect washed through me.
My lack of movement sent the wrong signal, because she tried to pull away. Like she thought I was judging her. I had to stop and lock my hands on her waist to hold her in place. “Of all the girls that night, how the fuck did I pick one who’s just like me?”
She gasped. “I’m nothing like you,” she fired back. “And you didn’t pick me.”
“Wrong, and wrong.” The moment I’d seen her, I’d known she was . . . different. “I would have grabbed you if Alek hadn’t.”
Since I couldn’t see her face, I pictured her floundering. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. “We’re not alike.”
“Wrong.” Her ass was right there, all bare and waiting. I spanked it and reveled in her grunt of discomfort.
“You’re a virgin, too?” she asked, faking shock.
I laughed, not just because she was ridiculous, but at how she’d suddenly decided to grow a pair. Didn’t she realize when she shoved me, I’d shove back, harder, and enjoy doing it? She was making it worse for herself. “I lost my virginity almost a decade ago.”
“Okay. Are you secretly Russian?”
When I gave her a matching set of red handprints on her lily-white ass, she yelped.
“Don’t let that mouth of yours get your ass into something it can’t handle.” Color burst on her skin, and it was fucking beautiful. “Unless you want to get in trouble? Maybe you like pain.” I caressed her warm flesh. “Maybe you’ll get off on it when I pop your cherry.”
“Sure, whenever that’s going to happen.” Her patronizing tone burrowed under my skin.
When the fuck did she get so mouthy? “Is that what you want, baby?” I mocked. “Are you just dying for my cock to fill you up and make you a woman?”
Enough of this game. She was reckless to even attempt playing against me. I put a hand on each check and peeled her apart, and then I spit on her, right on her asshole. Her body turned to stone, but I wasn’t done yet. I moved my thumb to where my spit dribbled down, and put pressure on the puckered ring of muscle.
Her fingernails dug in so hard on my ankle, I could feel them through the denim of my jeans. Whatever confidence she’d had drained away with her loud exhale of breath.
“Maybe I’ll only fuck you here,” I said. “Would you like that? If I fucked your dirty hole and you stayed a virgin forever?”
“Ahuyet,” she whispered.
This time I recognized the appropriate, vulgar word.