18
I sat on the end of Vasilije’s bed, wearing the white lingerie he’d bought me and covered with his black robe while my insides rattled. I’d washed the lingerie last night before going to sleep, and my hands shook when I put it on this afternoon.
It was necessary and just sex, right? People did it all the time. I’d done harder things. Worse things. Fucking Vasilije shouldn’t be a big deal. All I had to do was lie there and let it happen. But I wasn’t an idiot. Nothing was simple or easy with him, and no amount of psyching myself up could mentally prepare me for the moment. He enjoyed my confusion. He liked my discomfort.
Six o’clock came and went.
The bedroom was a tomb, and the quiet ate at me.
I made the bed. That was the only thing I did to ready the room. If I lit candles, he’d never let me hear the end of it, and it wasn’t my style anyway. I didn’t do romance, and was sure he didn’t, either. I just wanted to get this over with.
Time dragged, and I stared out the window with nothing to do but think about him. I could have been downstairs, seated at the piano and working. Even though the thing wasn’t tuned, I’d never gotten so much undisturbed time to write, and it made me greedy for more. Was this calculated? Was Vasilije making some sort of statement by having me wait for him?
Because it was late November, the sun had set almost two hours ago, and I stared at my reflection in the glass. My blonde hair fell loose around my shoulders, and I looked pale wrapped in the black robe. If I’d had makeup, I’d have done something to cover the dark circles under my eyes, but there was nothing in this house for me to use. I’d slept a full eight hours last night, but I didn’t feel rested. It was like all that had happened was the passage of time.
I looked . . . plain. Unremarkable.
At six thirty, my anxiety morphed into anger. I’d been on pins and needles all day, so dragging this out was cruel, which led me to believe it was intentional. I stewed in my frustration. I couldn’t exactly leave, and I’d gone too far to give up my goal.
I heard the garage door on the far side of the house at six forty, and blew out a breath. All this waiting, and instantly I wished I had a few more minutes. His loud, rapid footsteps pounded out downstairs, and then he was coming up the steps . . . two at a time? Was he hurrying?
The door burst open, and he looked as startled to see me as I was him. He was carrying a red plastic bag and flung it down on top of his dresser, while his hand went to the knot of his tie. “Fuck, that took a lot longer than I thought it would.”
His tone was strange. Almost apologetic. He stared at me on the bed. “Have you been waiting for me this whole time?”
Was he serious? “You told me to.”
He unthreaded the tie from his collar, moving slowly as if distracted. “I did. I’m kinda surprised you didn’t give up.”
It wasn’t in my nature to give up. Like Vasilije, I usually got what I wanted, but I actually had to work for it. I was banking hard on the enemy of my enemy becoming my friend, but as I evaluated the guy in a suit across the room from me, I wondered if I was a fool. He didn’t look at me like he wanted to be my friend.
He looked like a guy who wanted to fuck me and throw me away, just like my father had done to my mother. The difference was I knew who I was dealing with. I might not outsmart the devil, but I was willing to deal with him.
He pulled off his shoes and socks.
I sat straight on the edge of the bed, my legs crossed and the sides of the robe stacked over my knees to cover me. My pulse ticked upward as he stalked forward and undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt, raw lust dripping from his expression. He was so fucking attractive. Vasilije was a beautiful, poisonous flower, luring me to come closer. I’d be so distracted I’d never notice his trap, or how he started to devour me until it was too late.
He gripped my chin and tilted my head back, forcing my gaze on his. The smile smeared across his lips was lewd. “Have you been thinking about fucking me all day today?”
“Yes.” It was the truth.
“Me, too.” Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. He bent down, bringing his lips almost to mine, and my eyes closed as I prepared for his kiss. Just as I felt his warm breath on my skin, he pushed my chin away and drew back, teasing me. Denying what he’d been promising a split-second ago.
Fuck him. Did he think I cared about whether he kissed me? I didn’t, I told myself. I absolutely did not care if he wanted to cover my mouth with his or slide his soft tongue past my lips and taste me.
His focus and hands went to the knot at my waist, and he ripped it free, flinging the robe open. His gaze scraped down me from head to toe, inspecting the white mesh and lace decorating my body. “You’re such a good girl.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and the gesture made it seem like he could barely contain his excitement. “Too bad I’m going to ruin you.”
“Please,” I said, holding back the eye roll. “How good can I be? Are you forgetting I killed someone?”
He chuckled darkly. “Fuck, no, that makes you hotter.” He shoved a hand into my hair and gripped the strands at the base of my skull, yanking me to my feet. “I meant I’m gonna ruin your virgin pussy.”
Well, get on with it, then. I’d waited long enough, had endured his threats. It was time for him to show me they weren’t empty.
It was cold as he peeled down a side of the robe, letting it hang on one shoulder. My chest rose and fell with my rapid, shallow breaths, which drew his attention to my bra. I watched his tongue as he licked his lips, and it made my stomach clench.
Cool fingertips skimmed over my hips and around my back, drawing me into his arms, and then Vasilije’s warm mouth was on my collarbone. It carved a path downward, leaving a trail of damp skin behind and causing goosebumps to break out on my flesh. Like every molecule of my skin was rising up to get close to him.
The tip of his tongue drew a line between my breasts, and when he reached the small band at the center of the bra, he changed course. His lips followed the curve of my breast, sucking and nipping at me through the lace.
I took in air in controlled sips. What he was doing felt shockingly good, and the sight of it was even better. His open mouth soaked the bra cup, and his tongue stroked my hard nipple through the damp fabric. When I issued a soft sigh, the fingertips on the small of my back urged me forward. They urged me to arch my back and push my breast deeper into his mouth.
Not only did I comply, I threaded a hand through his hair and held his head. His noise of approval sent a rush of desire through me. How long would he tease me like this before taking the bra off? How long until the virginal white panties were wadded on the floor?
“You like this?” he said, and ensnared my nipple between his teeth, pulling it away from my body. It hurt, but in a good, pleasurable way, and it was so sexy how his dark eyes looked up at me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His sexual expression was going to melt me. I was overheated and wanted the robe gone, but I held still and let him continue to lick and torment me with his sinister mouth. The ache between my legs intensified as he tugged the strap down over my shoulder and pushed the bra cup out of his way.
“Oh,” I moaned. His rough bite on my sensitive, bare skin was almost too much. That edge of pain faded into overwhelming heat and my knees softened.
My moan pulled a trigger on Vasilije. He wrenched the robe off me and flung it on the bed. Rough, urgent hands spun me around to face it. The bra was unhooked and yanked from me, the straps tangling in my arms for a moment before he hurled it to the floor.
I yelped when his hand cracked against my ass, and he left his palm there, using it to push me forward. “Up. On your hands and knees.”
The bed rocked as I climbed on and crawled to the center, hovering over the robe. I stared at the gray stone wall and let my gaze trace the patterns while he grabbed the back of my panties and jerked them down, tugging until they were halfway down my thighs. It left me on full display for him. Any second I expected a painful blow. The staccato slap of his hand against my exposed, waiting skin. God, what was wrong with me? I almost looked forward to it.
But it didn’t come.
He wasn’t even touching me. My lust-filled mind was distracted, and I hadn’t been listening to what he was doing. The mattress shifted as he climbed on behind me. There was rustling. Then, he set a cold hand on the flat of my back, causing me to flinch.
A panicked noise of surprise burst from me when something velvety-soft and round stroked me. I’d expected foreplay, or spankings, or . . . something first. After all his mocking, he was just going to get right to it and fuck me? My body locked up, beyond nervous. I thought I was ready, but I felt so off balance.
The tip of his hard cock glided over my damp pussy, running the length along me, and I shuddered with pleasure as it made contact with my swollen clit. It felt physically good, but my brain went haywire over how close we were to having actual sex. He rocked back and forth, drenching his dick in my arousal and teasing what was going to happen.
“Goddamn, Oksana.” His voice was breathless, and pride surged through me. I was the one who’d made it hard for him to catch his breath. “I’m gonna slide my cock so deep inside you. All the way in. I’m going to fuck this pussy raw.”
A shuddering breath fell out of me. I’d envisioned how I thought this was going to play out tonight, but I’d been wrong. I was supposed to be on my back, staring up at him as he took me, after hours of torturous foreplay. Not on my hands and knees, with my underwear still on and my pussy untouched.
He was still dressed, which wasn’t surprising. It was a power thing, I assumed. But there was more rustling. A thud as the gun and holster came off and were set on the floor. I saw a flash of white in my peripheral vision. He’d pulled his dress shirt off. The bed rocked slightly as he pushed his pants and underwear to his knees on the mattress.
The head of his cock brushed over my clit faster, and the sensation was amazing.
His low voice rang out from behind me. “You want it in your tight, pretty little hole?”
I bit down on my lip, silencing the gasp that would give too much away. Because . . . I did. Heat was building from between my legs where he was simulating sex, and the tension from waiting all day had me so tight, I threatened to snap.
“Yes,” I said.
“Tell me,” he demanded. When I didn’t right away, I got what I’d been expecting. His punishing spanking stung and burned across my backside. He growled it out. “Tell me.”
“I want it,” I gasped. “I want it in my tight, pretty little hole.”
The word was loaded with sin. “Yeah?”
He was gliding so fast through my slickness I could hear it, and I knew what game we were playing. He wanted me to beg, so I would. It wasn’t a stretch of the truth. My hand curled around a fistful of the robe beneath me. “Oh, God. I want it, Vasilije.”
“So eager.” He mocked me with a dark tone. “Not yet.”