Stolen By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #2)

Chapter 10

10

Leon

T he key turns soundlessly in Emery’s lock, and I slip off my shoes before crossing the threshold.

I know how to go slow and leave no trace, but it’s challenging to do my ninja thing when the woman I want is just a few feet away, completely unaware of my presence.

Then I hear her.

For a moment, I freeze, unsure whether I’m imagining it. But no. There it is again—a sweet, soft exhalation of what is unmistakably pleasure.

My pulse spikes, the thrill hitting me like a shot of vodka.

I can’t be this lucky. Have I sneaked in when she’s touching herself?

She makes another sound, louder this time, and it’s all I can do to suppress a groan of my own.

I have no business being here, not like this. But the thought of leaving now is laughable—I’m too far gone.

The urge to burst into her room and bury my face between her legs is almost too much to resist, but this is not the way to do it.

Still, I’m in big fucking trouble because swiping a pair of panties is not gonna be enough anymore.

The plan, such as it was, involved a quick in-and-out. A small invasion.

Now I’m standing outside her bedroom, my cock painfully hard, while the woman I want more than anything in the world is playing with her pussy just a few feet away.

Is this for my benefit? Does she know I took the key? Maybe she wanted me to find her like this, horny and vulnerable.

Thoughts like that are a slippery slope, but I don’t care right now.

Am I significantly invading her space? Yes. Not as much as I’d like to, but no one will give me a medal for my restraint.

Emery’s bedroom door is wide open. Why wouldn’t it be? I take that as an invitation, an unspoken welcome. She may not know she’s invited me, but her actions tell me everything I need to know.

I drop to all fours and crawl toward her bedroom, getting lower as I draw close.

As I peer around the doorframe, I expect to be met with a scream, but my girl is oblivious.

This woman is way too easy to get close to. It’s infuriating how little she thinks of her own safety, as if the world isn’t filled with men like me who wouldn’t hesitate to claim her.

If I don’t teach her some sense, someone worse than me will.

Her knees are raised, so I can’t see what she’s doing. Not that I need to see; there’s no mistaking that she’s masturbating, her hand moving as she gasps and writhes.

Luckily for me, she’s on her back, and the room is dark except for the streetlamp outside, which shines a bar of brightness through the small gap in her curtain.

I can’t slide on my stomach because of my hard-on, so I roll onto my back and slide across the carpet until I’m lying parallel to Emery, hidden in the darkness beside her bed.

Sweet Christ. I’ve never been more turned on.

The absurdity would make me laugh if I weren’t so goddamn aroused.

Here I am, the most feared man in the city, lying on her bedroom floor like a dog. I can’t see a thing, but those delicious sounds of pleasure are fucking killing me.

I’ve got to do something about my erection. It’s agony now, painfully hard and sensitive; anyone would think I was seventeen again.

I’m aching to touch her, to make her moan for me, but I can’t break the spell.

I’m going to Hell for so many reasons already. What’s one more?

I ease down my zipper so it doesn’t make a noise, and my cock springs free. It’s thick and heavy in my hand, my jockeys sporting a big damp patch of pre-come.

The lubrication makes it easy to work, and I grasp the base of my shaft and pump it hard a few times just to ease the throb.

That stimulation alone is almost enough to send me over the edge, and I shove my fist in my mouth, digging my teeth into my knuckles to stop me from groaning with ecstasy.

I want to shove my cock in Emery’s mouth, her pussy, anywhere. I want her stretched out beneath me, gasping as I fill her.

One lap of her tongue, one gagging sound as I bottomed out in her throat, and I’d think of nothing else until my dying day.

I bite down harder, and the skin breaks, the coppery tinge of blood in my mouth.

What runs through her mind as she plays with her pretty cunt? I want to know. Is it some fantasy of escape, a dream of being taken by a stranger?

Or, just maybe, is she thinking of me?