26. Lacey
26
LACEY
The hard wood of his desk presses into my thighs as Vadim crowds me back against it.
His height looms over me, blocking out everything else until my world narrows to just him. The raw vulnerability I glimpsed moments ago has transformed into something else—something hungry and fierce that makes my heart race.
His hands grip my waist, lifting me onto the desk's edge. Papers scatter to the floor, but neither of us cares. All I can focus on is how his touch sets my skin on fire, how desperately I want to heal the wounds we both carry.
"Tell me to stop," he whispers. "Tell me this isn't what you want."
But I can't lie, not about this, not to him. Not when every cell in my body craves his touch. Not when I want to show him that he deserves to be chosen, to be wanted.
His lips trace a burning path down my throat, and I arch into him with a gasp. The necklace he retrieved for me catches the light, reminding me of his kindness even as his teeth graze my skin.
How can one man be so many things at once? The dangerous pakhan and the wounded son. The man who threatens to pierce me in jewelry stores and the one who wipes away my tears. I want all of him, every complicated, contradictory piece.
"Vadim," I breathe as his kisses drift lower. "You're not him."
He freezes for a moment, tension rippling through his muscles. Then his mouth claims mine in a kiss that steals my breath. There's desperation in it, need and vulnerability and something deeper that makes my heart ache.
I want to wrap him in tenderness, even as his touch sets me aflame. Want to prove that he's worthy of gentleness even as he makes me crave his roughness. Want to heal his heart even as he makes mine race wildly out of control.
My body trembles as Vadim's kisses grow more urgent, desperate. His hands grip my waist tighter, pulling me to the edge of the desk until I'm pressed flush against him. Papers crinkle beneath me, but I barely notice, lost in the sensation of his touch.
"Let me show you," I whisper again between kisses, my fingers tangling in his hair.
His mouth traces down my neck, and I gasp when his teeth graze my skin. The necklace catches against his lips, and the metal warms between us. Such a simple thing, yet it revealed so much about who he really is.
" Zvyozdochka ," he breathes against my throat, the endearment making my heart flutter. His voice is thicker now, rougher with need. One hand slides up my back while the other grips my thigh, and I arch into him instinctively.
I can feel him trembling too, holding back. Even now, he's afraid of hurting me, of becoming the monster his mother sees in him. But I trust him—trust the man who broke arms to retrieve my necklace, who gives me choices even when he could take them away.
My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer.
"I want this," I tell him, my voice husky with desire. "I want you."
His storm-gray eyes meet mine, dark with hunger but also a vulnerability that makes my chest ache. I frame his face in my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks where tears fell earlier.
"You're nothing like him," I whisper fiercely. "Nothing."
"You can't know that," he whispers roughly, but his hands tighten on my waist. "You don't know what I'm capable of."
"I know exactly what you're capable of." My fingers trace the hard line of his jaw. "You protect women from monsters." I lean closer, breathing in his familiar scent. "You're giving me choices that he would never have given, even now."
A tremor runs through his powerful frame. His forehead presses against mine, and I feel his uneven breaths fan across my lips.
"Lacey..." He whispers.
My name comes out like a prayer and a warning wrapped into one. His voice thickens around the syllables.
"Show me," I breathe, sliding my hands down his chest. "Show me who you really are."
His control snaps. His mouth crashes into mine with desperate hunger, and I meet him with equal fervor. Papers scatter as he presses me back against the desk, and I welcome his weight, his heat, his need. My legs tighten around his waist.
I want to erase every scar his past has left on him. Want to replace memories of rejection with ones of acceptance. Want to show him that he deserves to be chosen, to be wanted, to be loved.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, it fills me with certainty as his kisses trail fire down my body.
"Vadim," I moan as his hands roam lower. "Please..."
The weight of him pressing me against the desk feels deliciously overwhelming. Every touch ignites another spark of desire that races through my body.
"Tell me what you want.” His hands squeezes my hips tightly enough to leave bruises if he wants to.
"You," I manage to whisper. "Just you."
He kisses lower. My fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on. His hands slide up my sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arch into his touch, wanting more. Needing more. The desk's edge digs into my thighs but I barely notice, lost in the sensations he's creating.
" Zvyozdochka ," he murmurs against my skin.
The endearment sends shivers down my spine. His touch is both possessive and reverent, like he can't quite believe I'm real.
"Tell me again," Vadim rasps. "Tell me I'm not like him."
My heart clenches at the vulnerability in his voice, even as his touch sets me ablaze.
"You're nothing like him," I whisper fiercely, tangling my fingers in his hair. "You're good, Vadim. So good."
He groans, the sound vibrating against my skin. The diamond at my throat catches between us as he trails lower. My legs quiver when his hot breath laves my thighs.
"Don't make me wait anymore," I breathe.
His storm-gray eyes look up from between my legs. They're dark with something that makes my chest ache with emotions I'm not ready to name. One hand cups my ass while the other slides higher up my thigh.
"Lacey," he growls, voice thick as he spreads my legs further apart. "If we start this..."
"Then do it," I whisper.
Vadim's mouth descends on me, his tongue tracing slow, lazy circles that make my entire body thrum with need. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open for him as he tastes me like I'm his favorite dessert.
"You're so sweet," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "So fucking delicious."
I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair as I urge him closer. He eats me like he's savoring every taste, every touch, like he wants to brand me with his mouth. Like he wants to erase every trace of Nathan from my skin and replace it with his own mark.
"Lose yourself in me," I whisper, my hips arching off the desk. "I trust you, Vadim. Use me. Taste me. Make me scream."
He growls at that, the sound vibrating against my sensitive flesh. "Are you ready to fall apart for me, zvyozdochka ? Are you ready to scream?"
"Yes!"
His tongue pushes deeper past the wet folds of my lips, his fingers digging into my thighs as he holds me open for his mouth. I cry out, my body arching into him as pleasure sparks through me.
"That's it, my little star," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Let go for me."
I moan, my fingers tightening in his hair. "Vadim, please..."
"I want to hear you scream my name," he growls, his fingers tightening on my thighs. "Want to feel you come undone."
His tongue swirls against my clit. My hips buck against his mouth, seeking more of his touch.
"That's it," he growls, his voice rough with need. "Come for me, zvyozdochka . Let me feel you fall apart."
I cry out as pleasure sparks through me, my body arching off the desk. Vadim growls, his mouth claiming me. His tongue sweeps into my mouth to let me taste my own arousal.
His hands push my thighs further apart. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against me as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
"That's my good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction as his cock throbs against my entrance. "But we're not done yet."
I reach down, my fingers shaking as I undo his belt. I can feel his eyes on me, burning with a hunger that matches my own. His cock springs free, heavy and thick in my hand. A drop of precum glistens at the tip like a diamond.
My mouth waters at the sight. I want to taste him, to feel him on my tongue. I want to show him just how good I can be.
"You're so big," I breathe, stroking him. "I want you inside me, Vadim."
He growls at that, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Say it again."
"I want you inside me," I whisper, pumping my hand faster. "I want to feel you stretch me open, fill me up."
"You'll have to earn it." His voice is rough with need. "Beg for it, zvyozdochka ."
"Please," I whisper, my cheeks heating as I squeeze him tighter. "I need you, Vadim."
"Not yet." He bites his lip, his eyes darkening as he watches my hand pump him furiously. "Not until you beg."
"I am begging, Vadim." My voice comes out breathless, thick with need. "I need you inside me. Please."
"You know how I want you to beg." His voice is strained as he fights for control. "On your hands and knees."
"Vadim," I moan, pumping my hand faster. "Oh God, Vadim, please."
“Don’t stop, zvyozdochka ." His voice is rough, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. "Keep going."
I moan, my body trembling with need. "Vadim, I need you. Please, I can't wait any longer."
"Then don't." He presses a kiss to my forehead, his breath hot against my skin. "Take what you want."
Vadim's cock twitches in my hand, and I sink to my knees, my fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft as I take him into my mouth.
His hands fist in my hair. I can feel his eyes on me, burning with a hunger that matches my own.
I swirl my tongue around the tip, teasing him, before I take him deeper, my lips gliding over the velvety smooth skin. His cock grows harder in my mouth but his hand doesn't move, as if to remind both of us the amount of power I hold in this moment.
Slowly, I wrap my fingers around his length, stroking him from root to tip. His breath catches, and I smile against his skin, knowing I've affected him.
"You like me on my knees like this?" I whisper as I look up at him, my thumb brushing over the tip. "Worshipping your cock like the greedy little cumslut that I am?"
"Yes," he growls, his voice strained as he fights for control as his precum coats my fingers.
I smile, knowing he won't be able to hold back much longer. Slowly, I lean forward, my tongue swirling around the tip of his cock, my fingers stroking his length as I suck him deeper. I can feel his pulse throbbing against my tongue, his breath coming in harsh gasps.
I can feel him trembling as I tease him, his hands tightening in my hair.
He growls, his hands fisting tighter in my hair. "You're playing with fire, zvyozdochka ."
"But this time." I plant a kiss on the wet salty tip. "You're the one who's going to get burned."
I take the head of his cock back in my mouth, turning my tongue around it in slow, lazy circles. His hands tighten in my hair, his hips arching toward me as he tries to set the pace.
But I'm the one in control here, and I won't be rushed.
I take my time, teasing him with my tongue, my lips, my hands while I watch him unbutton his shirt to expose his muscular body.
My breath catches at the sight of his sculpted torso, but it's the stories written on his skin that make my heart race.
A long scar traces his collarbone, pale against his flesh. Another cuts across his ribs on the left side—a knife wound? How much violence has he seen? How many battles has he fought and won?
But it's the tattoos that truly captivate me. An intricate cross spans his right pectoral, surrounded by letters that I can't read. On his left bicep, a roaring bear rears up, claws extended. The artistry is stunning—each hair and muscle rendered in stark black ink that ripples as he moves.
Near his heart, a small star catches my eye—similar to the endearment he calls me. The skin around it looks older, faded, like it was his first.
A sprawling design covers his right side—what looks like a cathedral with onion domes reaching toward stylized clouds. The detail is incredible. Every brick and every window is meticulously inked.
My fingers itch to trace each mark, to learn their stories. His body is a roadmap of his past, and I want to explore every inch.
A particularly wicked scar curves around his left side, disappearing behind his back. The puckered flesh speaks of a deep wound, one that should have been fatal. My heart clenches at how close he must have come to death.
"Enjoy the view?" His breath comes in harsh pants.
Shit. When did I stop?
Giving him a long sultry look, I run my tongue along the slit of his cock and resume sucking with renewed enthusiasm. His taste leaves warm salty trails on my tongue, and I moan with every bob of my head, the vibrations sending shivers through him.
"Fuck," he growls, his hips arching toward me. "You're going to make me lose control."
I release his cock with a playful pop , and run my tongue over my lips slowly as I look up into his eyes.
"That's the idea."
Before he can say anything else, I take him deeper inside, my lips gliding over his length until I can feel his pulse throbbing against back of my throat.
Reaching up, I place my hands on the hard ridges of his abs, and give him just a slight nudge. Obediently, he falls backwards until he collapses into the seat.
The entire time, I never let his cock slip out of my mouth. I push his legs further and open my mouth wider to give myself better access. My tongue feathers the smooth shaft while the sinful cocktail of precum and spit run down the corner of my mouth to coat my chin and his heavy balls.
His entire body tenses with need. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I know he's trying to pull me off, but I hold on, sucking him deep as I stroke his length.
"You're going to make me cum," he whispers, voice straining with exertion to keep himself in check.
I respond by speeding up my torture. He growls, his fingers tightening in my hair as he pulls me off his cock.
"Enough games, Lacey. I won't be satisfied cumming in your mouth."
I don't need to be told twice. I scooch up onto the desk, spread my legs to reveal my pussy, and dip my fingers down to find myself completely soaked.
"Is this where you looked through my photos?" I ask him breathily as I start playing with my slit.
"Yes."
"Was it enough?" I wrap my other hand around his thick hard cock, guiding him, groaning with need, to my entrance.
"No." He admits as I bring his tip inside of my weeping folds. Even just the tip feels impossibly large, and my heart skips at the thought of taking the rest of him inside of me.
"And what will be enough?"
"The real thing." He inches himself deeper, driving the air from my lungs.
"Then what are you waiting for?" I coo. "Take it. It's yours. It's always been yours."
"Mine." He pushes into me slowly, filling me with his length. "My zvyozdochka . My good girl."
I moan, my body stretching to accommodate him. Holy fuck, he's massive. My hands reach up to grip his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin as I throw my head back to let loose a long cry of pleasure.
I'm helpless to do anything but surrender to it until he's buried to the hilt. He stretches me beyond what I thought I could take, and still, I want more. I want to scream for him to go harder, faster, to never stop. But each thrust leaves me fighting for breath. Helpless, I squeeze, relishing in the bursts of pleasure rushing through my body at how perfect it feels to have him inside.
It's like I've been waiting for this my entire life, and now that he's here, I never want to let him go.
"You're so tight, zvyozdochka ," he breathes, his voice thick with need as he starts to move. "So fucking wet. So fucking perfect. Like you were made for me."
"Yes," I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair as he starts to move. "Oh God, yes."
He groans, his hips setting a steady rhythm as he thrusts into me. "That's it, zvyozdochka . Take it all."
I cry out, my body arching to meet his thrusts. "Fuck me. Fuck me! Harder!"
He grips my hips tighter and starts to speed up, his cock spearing into me with relentless force and driving the air out of my lungs with every thrust. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes…" I cry out, half a whimper and half a scream, my body trembling with need. "Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop! Make me take that dick like the cock-hungry whore that I am."
He growls, his hips snapping forward as he pounds into me. Thick fingers interlock with mine, and his powerful inked arms frame me like twin pillars. The sound of sex fills the room. Ragged cries tumble from our lips and twist into an incoherent litany of need and desire. The sound of flesh on flesh echoes off the walls, a perfectly unrestrained counterpoint to the rhythm of the desk shaking beneath us.
My cries tangle with his growls. I'm aware of the wetness leaking from my pussy, coating my thighs, my ass, and the surface of the desk. His skin is hot against mine, and his muscles bunch and flex as he moves within me.
"Who do you belong to?" he whispers with every thrust.
"You!" I cry out, my body shaking and my voice hoarse from our passion
"What are you to me?"
"Your wife." I pant.
"What else?"
I feel the tension building inside me, a sweet ache that demands release, and I know, I know I'm close. So close. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, his hands gripping my hips, his words—oh, those wicked, wicked words—spinning a web of desire around me.
"Your star." I cry. "Your queen."
"What else?" He demands, his motion growing faster and more erratic. His cock is getting harder.
He's close. And so am I.
"Your whore!" I scream.
"That's right, zvyozdochka ." His cock is a relentless piston, ravaging me and reshaping me forever with every thrust. "Now be a good girl, look me in the eyes, and come like the filthy whore that you are."
And I do.
I cry out, my body shaking as pleasure overwhelms me like a wave breaking against the rocks. Vadim growls, his lips closing around my mouth to devour my screams and swallow my moans.
And then, with one final ragged cry, he cums inside of me, his strong hands pushing me into the desk as his cock twitches. My screams are muffled against his searing kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth. His body crushes against mine, and hot semen floods my cunt and my womb to possess me.
To mark me as his.
No-one has ever done that to me before. So raw, so primal, and so damn good. And as my pussy continue to milk him, I know that no-one will ever do that to me but him.
I feel branded and owned by his cum. The thought of it sends a thrill through my body, and another orgasm races to the surface, trailing in the wake of the first one that's still reverberating through my body.
He drains the air from my lungs as he deepens the kiss. His cock continues to move even as it twitches inside of me. All I can do is whimper helplessly underneath him as the pleasure ripples between us.
Then, and only then, does he break the kiss and both of us pant, gasping for air like we've just run a marathon.
His eyes find me, and he reaches up to caress my face as he slowly retreats from me, leaving me aching with emptiness and a need to be filled again. My heart flutters in my chest. I feel him dripping down silently to the floor but I don't move.
Because this is the only place that I want to be.