32
I silenced the sirens in my head that said I was too fucked up and about to go past the point of no return. I squeezed some more lube in my hand and slicked it over my pulsing dick.
Oksana’s skin was soft and warm against my legs as I came back to her. I fisted my cock and used my other hand to hold her open, and lined up where I wanted to go. My gaze darted from her, to my dick, and back again, waiting for her to announce I’d called her bluff.
But she didn’t. I pressed against her, and—
“Oh, shit! Slow!” she cried. The head of my cock was just seated inside her.
Slow is not the same as stop, my dick relayed to my brain. I spanked her. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
Her body’s grip was so strong, my vision blurred. When she swallowed a huge breath, I pushed deeper.
Inch by slow inch, she took me inside.
The sensation was different. New and dirty. I owned her completely now, and liked that I hadn’t shared the experience with anyone else but her. Fuck me, it felt so good. I dragged my hand over her back, caressing her skin as she grew to tolerate where my dick was.
I swore every cuss word I knew in Serbian, and then repeated it in English so she’d understand. I drew my hips back, and slowly pressed forward. She made a noise I hadn’t heard before and didn’t understand. It could have been pain or pleasure.
“Do you like it?” I asked, expecting her to lie.
Her voice was strained. “No.”
“That’s too bad. I like it.” I eased my hips back and forth, sliding my cock into the tight ring of her asshole. “You don’t like being used? Now you know how I feel.”
“How have I used you?”
“You want me to kill your father.” It was getting hard to hold back. Her grip on me was too tight, too good.
“No. I want . . . your help. Be someone who’ll have my back,” she whispered. “My partner.”
She wanted someone to cover her ass. Ironic, given I was actually inside it at that very moment. “Why should I believe anything that comes out of your lying mouth?”
She turned her head to the side so I could see her profile and the grimace she made. “I’m not lying.”
I spanked her like the strike would punish, but it had no effect. She kept talking.
“We can work together.”
“Shut up!”
I slapped a hand on her shoulder and held her firm as I drove into her. My vision narrowed. My heart pumped blood through my system at the speed of light. My knees ached against the hardwood, but I fucked her relentlessly. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t hate it either. Or at least, she didn’t hate it enough to give in.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I groaned. My body took control. I leaned over her, crushing my chest to her back and shoved a hand down between her legs. I wanted to turn her body against her. I stirred her clit, rubbing my fingers furiously from side to side, and bit down on her shoulder.
“Oh, shit,” she whined. “Shit, Vasilije.”
“Fuck, yeah.” I grunted it between thrusts. “Oh, fuck, yes.”
Pleasure shot from me. It ruptured from my core in waves of heat, traveling like flames through gasoline. I came in a torrent, one gush of ecstasy after another, filling her in spurts. She moaned through it, like my enjoyment was hers, and fuck me . . . was it? Did she get off knowing I had?
As soon as the last pulse thudded through my body, I reached over and grabbed the plastic bag. I’d bought her more than just lingerie to wear, but thought it might be a while before I sprung the small plug on her. It had been more a gift for me than her.
I turned the small velvet drawstring bag over and dumped the silver plug out into my palm, and slowly retracted my dick.
“What—” she started, and the rest of the words died as I slid the metal plug into place.
I yanked her underwear back up. “Maybe I’ll fuck you again and pull that plug out so you’ve got my cum dripping out of both holes.”
“Oh my God.”
I stood, went to the bathroom, and cleaned up, and when I came back, she was as I’d left her, waiting for me. “You’re still here,” I said. It would have been easy for her to lift the bench and slide the duct tape handcuffs off.
Her breath came and went rapidly. “If this was an attempt to drive me away . . . it failed.”
“You’re fucking stupid. Get the fuck out of my house before I change my mind and kill you.”
She was bound, yet she stared at me defiantly. “Then do it, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Did she have a death wish? No, I thought bitterly. At this point, what did she have to lose?
“Go,” I said. “Run back to daddy for protection.” Or at least her brother. Konstantine wasn’t as powerful as his father, but like me, he was next in line. It was fucking inevitable one day I’d be pitted against him, if he survived to succeed his father.
She shook her head. “I’d rather let you fuck my ass again.”
I came to her, kneeling beside the bench and got in her face. “You’re seriously starting to piss me off.”
“Look at me. Do you think I care anymore?” She spat the words like bullets.
I’d degraded her. Pushed and humiliated her, and yet she stayed. Every second she stayed made me nervous. When was she going to give up? She wasn’t loyal to me. She couldn’t be. I was eager for her to break.
“You don’t get to choose your family,” she said quietly, “but you can choose your friends.”
Was she fucking nuts? “We’ll never be friends, Oksana.”
She let out a sigh of frustration and squirmed against the tape. “I’m still the same person I was before you knew about my father, and you, Vasilije Markovic, are the only person I’ve shared that with.”
Fucking her had been a bad idea. It messed with my hormones and made me weak. If she had told me the night I brought her home she was Sergey Petrov’s illegitimate daughter, she would have left in the trunk of my car. It shouldn’t be different now, but . . . fucking hell.
Everything was different.
I’d thought we were the same, and I’d liked her so goddamn much. Now, I stared at the woodgrain in the floor, and considered leaving her here while I went upstairs to smoke a joint. It was all too much. I felt heavy.
“Please,” she said. “I need you to tell me my brother is going to be okay. If you want to kill a Petrov, you know which one is the bigger threat.”
It slipped out before I thought better of it. I was used to saying whatever I wanted around her. “We can’t get to him.”
“But I can.”
Well, shit. At least that was true.
Her voice was firm. “You don’t want me anymore, fine. But we can help each other. Think about it. How much better would it be for your family if Sergey was gone? And my father doesn’t care about me . . . but Konstantine does. My brother’s not going to do something if he thinks it might get me killed.”
It all sounded too good to be true.
I found myself on my feet and walking toward the kitchen, and as I came back to her carrying the chef’s knife, her panicked look was sharper than the steel blade in my hand.
“I can help with your uncle,” she said in a rush. “I could—”
“I don’t need your help.” My voice was hard and cold. Her eyes doubled in size with every step I took.
“Oh, God, don’t,” she cried. “Not with a knife.”
Her gasp of horror was surgical, cutting deep to my bones, and I fell to my knees. I slipped the tip of the knife between the tape and the bench leg, and jerked upward. She used her newly freed hand to wipe away a loose tear while I cut her other wrist free, and the knife clattered to the floor.
She scrambled into my arms, and I went on autopilot, allowing it for a moment before I realized what she’d done. It was wrong to hold her, but it didn’t make it feel any less good, and I hated her for it. I dumped her from my arms.
“If you stay here,” I said, “I’ll come to my senses and kill you.”
She pressed her blood-red lips together, but otherwise didn’t move.
“I’ll probably fuck you again, and then kill you,” I added. Although, I’d thrown everything at her and she was still here, sitting on the floor and looking at me with her big doe eyes like I was her savior and not the devil.
“I’m not leaving.” Her tone was firm. “You said you always get what you want, but you also said we’re the same. I want your help.”
I stood. “I need a shower to wash your fucking stink off me.”
I trudged toward the stairs and lumbered up them, ignoring her as she followed. I kicked open the door to my room and stormed through it, walking directly into the shower. I didn’t even take my clothes off, and neither did she. Only her shoes were left outside the glass shower door.
I turned the water on. It blasted us, cold at first and then so fucking hot it should have melted our skin off. I wanted it to wash away her lies, but all it did was soak my jeans until they were stiff and heavy.
Water cascaded down her pale skin, drenching the lingerie. I finally gave her my attention, backing her up against the wall and putting my hands on either side of her head, trapping her in. Although I wasn’t sure why. She’d had every opportunity to leave and hadn’t done it, even after I’d ordered her to.
She reached a hand up and set it on my jaw, but I pushed it away and slapped my palm against the tile right by her head, making her flinch. “You don’t get to touch me unless I say so.”
I moved, gliding my hand down her body, following the flow of the water, making my point without words. I didn’t need permission to touch what was mine.
“If Konstantine dies,” she said, “my father won’t stop until every Markovic is in the ground. But if you kill him, and your uncle . . . Vasilije, you’ll run this town.”
If I put the personal shit to the side, deep down I knew she was right. I couldn’t trust her, but the opportunity was hard to ignore. Killing my uncle was my priority, but inheriting the family empire afterward was a nice perk, and the idea of her keeping the Russians at bay was tempting.
I’d stay on my toes and could always kill her if I sensed her loyalty was fake. Which gave me an idea. “If I stop the order on Konstantine, I’m going to need something from you.”
She looked eager. “Anything.”
“You need to kill Alek.”
Oksana barely blinked. “Fine. How do you want me to do it?”