24
Vasilije
Oksana was quiet on the drive back to the house. A lot of shit had been said at the table, and it’d been shocking she kept her mouth shut through it. All because I’d told her to. Fuck, the way she obeyed me made my blood run south, straight beneath my zipper.
Taking her to dinner tonight had been a calculated risk. It hadn’t irritated Sergey or the other Russians, but it had definitely gotten under my uncle’s skin, so I would call it a win. I liked poking the bear and was curious what kind of response it’d provoke out of Goran.
Oksana sat in the back seat with her legs crossed, so prim and fucking proper. My gaze started at her ankles and traveled upward, coasting over her long, pale legs. I couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around me. I needed to reward her for being such a good girl, and goddamn . . . when I’d come home to her in the dress and the heels, with her hair up and makeup done, it’d been a punch of lust right in the dick.
I’d considered blowing the meeting off.
That was how good she looked. Sergey hadn’t been wrong when he’d said Russian women were dangerous. This one might be lethal.
“Are you pissed about dinner?” I asked, breaking the silence.
Her head swung slowly toward me. “Why would I be?”
“Because of all the shit that was said.” I hadn’t exactly been nice, and Sergey Petrov was a fucking dickhole.
“Are you asking if my feelings were hurt? I told you, I don’t have any.” Her tone was casual. Hollow. I didn’t like it. She was the most exciting when she was alive, and that seemed to happen whenever I had power over her.
“You’re so full of shit, Oksana.” I’d been able to embarrass her tonight and prove my point, but . . . winning the game hadn’t been as much fun as I’d thought it’d be. When I’d told everyone about the blowjob and she’d stared at her lap, I’d felt like a piece of shit. It was why I’d run my mouth later when Sergey had said she was nothing more than a piece of ass.
My hand had twitched, wanting to reach for my Glock. She was more than a piece of ass.
John pulled into the garage, and as I dismissed him, she got out of the car and hurried inside the house, out of the cold. I was right behind her. I’d taken care of business with some Russians tonight, but was most looking forward to the one who waited for me in the hall.
I peeled off my outer jacket and dropped it on the tile floor. Her eyes widened and she backpedaled. As I moved deeper into the house, chasing her, I shed my suit coat, dropping it on the hardwood. There was enough distance between us that she could hold my gaze and still see the gun in her peripheral vision.
Off the holster came, and it thudded to the countertop in the kitchen.
“I’m gonna fuck you under that dress. Now.”
Oksana’s chest rose with a deep breath, but she’d stopped moving when we reached the kitchen and held her ground as I came at her. I seized her face in my hands and slapped my lips down on hers. I gave her the same violent kiss I’d delivered this afternoon, only this time she was giving it right back to me.
Her soft mouth moving against mine slowed my reaction time like getting wasted on expensive vodka. I both did and didn’t want her to stop. It made it harder to dominate her like this, when her intensity matched mine.
Like a partner.
I broke the kiss and squeezed her cheeks with one hand as I pushed her, stumbling along. There was a large, open arch separating the kitchen from the living area, and I walked her toward it until her back was against the square column base. A gasp burst from her as she collided with it, but it didn’t disrupt her. It didn’t even slow her down.
Her fingers dug at my tie, tearing at the knot with both hands as I stared down into her eyes. Everything else about her was composed and elegant, but her fucking eyes were wild. She got the tie undone in record time, and moved to the buttons.
I slapped her hands away. “Stop.”
This was supposed to be my show, not hers, and definitely not ours. I moved in, shoving myself against her and pinning her to the narrow column. Her hair smelled good. Her eyes looked even better when her lashes were thick and dark. Whatever makeup Jennifer had used had done the trick. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
I ground my lower body against hers, and the nearly silent moan Oksana gave was sexier than if she’d screamed it. I sucked on her neck and wasn’t careful about it, either. I ran the sharp edge of my teeth along the curve of her flesh, and bit down. Hard, and then harder, going until she whimpered.
“Fuck,” I spat out, swiveling my hips away from her. She’d reached down and stroked me over my pants. “Do that again and I’ll tie you to this column.”
Goddamnit. As soon as the warning was out of my mouth, I wanted to do it. If I bound her arms behind her back, securing her to the column, it’d look amazing. But tying her up hadn’t been in my plans for this evening, and I’d have to save it for another time.
Surprise blanketed her face. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
Of course I did, but she was getting ahead of herself. “Only when I tell you to. Pull your dress up.”
She moved immediately, and it gave me a rush as I watched her place her palms on the fabric and start dragging it up.
“Faster,” I barked. Fire raged in my veins, and I cupped her tits through the dress, squeezing them together. Every inch she exposed of her milky white thighs made me burn hotter. She got the skirt of the dress all the way around her hips, revealing unsexy cotton underwear.
“Where’s what I bought you?” I demanded.
Her eyes widened. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”
She had a point. I’d have to do some online shopping tonight and fix that. I’d buy her the sluttiest stuff I could find and make her wear it underneath the classy, expensive clothes I’d bought her. It could be another secret only we shared.
“Tonight, I won’t be holding back,” I said.
Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “Good.”
She hooked her thumbs under the waist of her panties and shoved them off. They glided down her legs and fell around her heels, where she stepped out of them. Oksana looked at me with an anxious expression. Nervous, maybe, but not fearful. Like she believed she could handle whatever I’d throw at her.
I was beginning to believe it, too.
Since she was up against the column, it held the dress around her hips. She closed a warm hand around mine and pressed our fingers between her legs. Her pussy was hot as lava, and wet. I clenched my teeth, sucking back a groan. It turned me on, but why was she being so aggressive?
“I guess I need to show you who’s in charge tonight.” I ripped my hand away, and slapped the inside of her thigh. She cried out from the first strike right as I launched the second and smacked her other thigh.
Her pale skin turned a beautiful shade of pink, bright against her lily-white flesh. I loved how I could see the instant proof of my touch. I wanted to paint more of her red. Lay claim over her skin.
“What—”
It was all she got out as I yanked her away from the column and pushed her into the living room. I threw her against the back of couch, and she made a startled noise, but she didn’t cry out. I was rough, but not too rough. Just enough so we’d both like it.
I shoved her over the couch so her cute, tight ass was in the air, and I spanked her with my open palm. I gave her short, stinging swats. Her head was down, and her hands gripped at the couch cushions, and even though she jolted and flinched, the girl said nothing. She gasped for breath, sure. Sometimes she inhaled so sharply, it sounded like a hiss.
But Oksana never said no.
“You tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” I said over the sound of my fingers slapping against her bare skin.
Tension filled her shoulders, like she was bracing herself. She took it as a challenge, and I grinned darkly. She wasn’t going to give in that easily. This girl wanted to be unbreakable, and I was thrilled to help her test her limits.
I undid the buttons and stripped off my dress shirt. It was good not to have it in the way. I rested my left hand in the small of her back, pushing her hips against the top of the couch, and then I really let her have it.
Slap. She jumped and I watched the reverberation ripple subtly on her skin.
Slap. Oksana’s heart-shaped ass was blotchy. Some of her was pink, while other spots that I’d hit multiple times were fire engine red. It was gorgeous. I dug my phone out of my pocket and took a picture. She flinched worse from the camera’s flash than any time I’d spanked her.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Slap, slap . . . slap. The last one was so hard, it stung my hand, and her foot came up off the floor. Her black heel was up against her ass, as if trying to protect herself. I shoved it out of my way. “Ask me to stop,” I ordered.
“No.” She was breathless.
“Why not?” I was goading her, but couldn’t turn the asshole side of my personality off. My father had activated that part, and then broken the switch so it couldn’t be disabled. She groaned as I spanked her viciously. “Because you like this?”
What a surprise. She said nothing.
She yelped with my next one, and tried to squirm away from both the pain and my hand holding her down on the couch.
I raised my voice, letting it fill the room. “Either tell me to stop . . . or tell me you like it.”
“Vasilije,” she whined.
Her soft-spoken word was more powerful than the demand I’d yelled at her, and suddenly I was on my knees behind her, my mouth latched onto her pussy. Her moan was as much surprise as it was bliss. I stuck my tongue inside and fucked her as her legs quivered. She reached a hand back and ran her nails through my hair, scraping at my scalp and holding me to her.
“I like it,” she gasped. “Oh, God, I like it.”
A half of a chuckle came out of me. Of course she did now, but the good news was . . . “Me, too.”
I put my hands on her abused ass and lifted, pulling her cheeks away so I had more room. I fluttered and sucked at her clit while I squeezed so hard on her ass, the skin dented around my fingertips. But the moans that rolled out of her were pure pleasure.
I paused so I could speak. “Reach back and put your hands like mine.”
She did, and I grabbed her wrists, pulling them so she’d hold herself open for me. Then, I shifted on my knees and got more comfortable. I settled in to reward her, and got rewarded myself as she murmured something in Russian. No idea what she said, but it sounded dirty.
Since I had my hands free, I put my thumb on the hood of her clit and pulled it back, and spun the tip of my tongue over the sensitive spot. Her shudders were fucking sexy. She writhed against both the couch and my mouth, like the pleasure I gave her was almost too intense to take. She could, though, and she would. Her heels tapped quietly on the wood floor as she shook uncontrollably.
“Nyet,” she cried when I licked a straight line up, right between her cheeks.
My cock jerked in my pants. Her hurried ‘no’ hadn’t sounded like an order to stop, it’d been gasped in shock. And I’d told her I’d stop if she asked me to, but I hadn’t said shit about doing it if she said it in Russian.