10. Ben
10
BEN
S he doesn’t know who I am.
I gritted my teeth, staring at her wet entrance as I reared back. Watching my dick reappear, glistening wet with her cream, was nearly my undoing.
Her pussy felt the same. Tight. Hot. Slick. And just fucking perfect, as though she were made for me alone.
Sonya pushed her ass back, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“Fuck, yeah,” I muttered, out of breath but loving every torrid second of our second tryst. “Fuck.”
I couldn’t get enough of my “stranger” like this.
She wasn’t as lax this time, following my lead and waiting for my direction. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. I’d seen to it. And with a little experience from having done this before, with me, she seemed more confident to take the initiative to show me what she wanted.
For me to go faster. Harder. Deeper. Each time I clutched her hips and dug my fingers into her flesh, I swore she creamed a little more and squeezed me tighter.
She couldn’t get enough of this. Of me.
Yet, she refused to acknowledge who I was.
We weren’t goddamn strangers. I was aware that she might have struggled to place me at first, with my hair how I liked it, out of the disguise and cover I had been using when I met her in that bar three months ago.
But she had to know it was me . She had to realize this cock deep inside her was the same one that had ended her virginity.
When I first entered the room, I noticed the flare of recognition in her eyes. She remembered. She’d reacted, seeing me and making the connection.
But why is she acting like we’re just a couple of strangers now?
Can she know that I’m working for her family?
Is there more to her disappearance than what Lev and the others found out?
Is she playing a game? Conning me and everyone else?
Too many questions flogged my brain, but I couldn’t slow down or pause to think through any of them. Not with her mewling and panting in front of me, welcoming me deep inside her pussy. Not when she arched her back and made me wish I could see her huge tits swaying and bouncing from the hard thrusts.
It had been a surprise to see her again, but now as I fucked her ruthlessly, relishing the reward of her moans, I was too distracted by desire to want to stop.
After.
We’d talk after I made her come.
There was no way in hell she was getting away from me so easily this time. In my motel room upstate, when we’d slept together again, she’d snuck away when I went to the bathroom. Here in this tiny little space in the club, I’d hold on to her and make sure she cut this shit out about pretending not to know me.
I’d fuck her brains out. I’d flood her cunt with my cum again. And after, I’d be handling the matter of her absence.
“You’re gonna come for me—” A deep grunt followed my words, ending my question prematurely, but I was glad I’d caught myself from saying her name. If she wanted to keep up this game of acting like we were still strangers, I didn’t want to be the one to slip first.
“Yes. Yes!” She hung her head lower, tensing under my hands. Crying out loudly, she announced her orgasm at last. I felt it in the squeezes of her pussy around me. I saw it over her trembling skin as it broke out in goosebumps. In the air, the smell of sex grew stronger, and it was just enough to prompt me to follow her into bliss.
Relief streamed through me, making me growl as I thrust twice more. I came with a bold and potent release. Spent and exhausted from the strain of fucking her so fast and hard, I staggered on my feet. My feet arched. My heart raced. My spine stiffened as I emptied my balls and shot deep inside her.
Just like last time, she was perfect. Perfect for me. And I wondered if that could be a possibility once we came down from the high of our releases. Once I talked to her and called her on pretending to not know me, I’d have an answer for why she was trying to hide. I had a hunch it had to tie into the matter of her disappearance, but that wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
Now that I’d found her—even if it had been an unexpected discovery—I’d be able to bring her home. She’d be able to explain to all of her family members why she’d been gone for so long.
Deep down in my heart, I wrestled with a slight fear that she might be playing us as fools. If she hadn’t been kidnapped or taken but had run away instead, who knew what kind of subterfuge or deception she could be plotting?
What if she ran away from the Baranov home because they were mistreating her? What if she took off because she was being abused or harmed or ? —
I shook my head, pulling out of her slowly as I watched her slender back.
Easy. Just wait a minute and slow down.
I’d get my answers. I would. But I wanted her to face me as she talked.
She remained leaning over, gasping and shivering from the effects of coming so hard. Her knuckles had turned white with her steadfast grip on the top of the chair. But after I stepped back and watched my cum dribble out of her, I leaned over to remove her hands from the chair and encourage a little more blood to circulate through them.
She stood, clumsy and lax. Leaning against me, she heaved out a deep breath and blinked.
“Can you stand?” I asked, rubbing her upper arms and keeping her upright. A ridiculous smile tore at my lips. She was adorable like this, sleepy and dazed. Fucked thoroughly.
We had a lot to talk about. I needed to get to the bottom of her disappearance. But I couldn’t deny she was so damn sexy and enchanting like this.
All because of me. I felt like a king to have this much impact on her. And I couldn’t wait to do it again.
“Stand?” She shrugged as she nodded but added, “No.”
I chuckled, amused by how endearing she could be all lopsided and sated like this. She didn’t have a ton of experience, not if she’d only recently lost her virginity to me. But I was thrilled that I had been the one to claim that feat.
What the fuck is with this possessive shit? I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to be attached to her, but we had a discussion to get through. She had to explain why she was acting like we were strangers, why she was here in the first place, and what happened that she was estranged or missing from her family.
I had to keep my wits about me with her.
She blinked and rubbed her face as she stepped toward the back of the chair. Propping her hip to it, she slowly lowered to grab her pants and panties that remained caught at her ankles. I hadn’t fully gotten my clothes off either. I tugged my pants back up, then retrieved her shirt, then mine.
Without making eye contact, she took her sweater. “That was…” She hesitated to finish her comment as she put her cami shirt on, then worked on getting her arms through the sweater sleeves.
I watched her profile as she stayed slightly facing away from me, wondering what adjective she’d land on.
Hot?
Fast?
Addicting?
Not enough?
“Unexpected,” she admitted.
“It was,” I said, curious how she meant that word. Unexpected as in she hadn’t counted on seeing me again? Or unexpected as in we’d just crashed and fallen into each other and wound up fucking like wild animals?
As I watched her get her clothes back on, I waited for her to speak up again. She wasn’t leaving me again, not without some explanations, but I wanted to see if she’d break her silence first. Seconds turned into minutes, and the awkward lack of conversation stretched between us. In the distance, the heavy thud of the music beat on, but it was dim and dulled, not preventing us from talking in here.
“Are—”
Gunfire cut through the quiet in this private room she’d darted into.
She flinched, then stiffened at the second round of shots being fired, but I didn’t wait. Diving forward, I covered her body and made sure that if anyone was shooting in the direction of the closed door, the bullet would hit me, not her.
“Get down!” I ordered as shouts and more gunfire erupted outside our room.
“I am down,” she retorted. Without moving too far from my body blocking her in case anyone came in here, she fidgeted as though she wanted to keep her distance from me. Which didn’t make sense. I’d just been as close to her as a man could get with a woman.
“Stay—” I didn’t get a chance to tell her to stay put and stick with this position behind me.
The door opened as someone slammed into it, but no one fell into our space. A fight had ensued out there, and I didn’t want our door to remain open. I was armed. I already had my gun in my hand, but I had no clue what was going on out there. My firearm would be used to keep us safe, nothing more.
“You’re in my way,” Sonya insisted as she wrestled past me, half-crawling and half-running. “Let me out of here. I’m not hanging around when all hell’s breaking loose!”
“Wait.” I lurched forward, diving to grab her before she escaped and ran through the strip club with who knew how many guns being fired. “Stop! S?—”
She kicked back at my hand, making me lose my almost-grab on her. Then with one knee on the ground, she spun and then shot to her feet.
“Stop!” I ran after her, keeping my gun at the ready, but she was already sprinting down the hallway. She was lucky she chose to run away from the bigger, main room where the gunfire seemed to be coming from, but two men fighting blocked me from chasing her.
“Fuck!” I ground my teeth, so frustrated and livid that she’d gotten away.
It wasn’t only a pain that she had succeeded, that she’d managed to evade me.
But why?
She wouldn’t run away unless she was scared and had a damned good reason to want to hide.
What the hell is your story, goddammit?
What are you hiding?
Who are you trying to screw over, Sonya?
I’d have to wait for answers. She was gone. Already, cops, security guards, bouncers, and bodyguards were settling down the chaos out in the main room.
Pocketing my gun and easing off to the side, I filed into the line of guests who were panicking about guns being fired. Management from the club herded servers, dancers, and guests away from the thick of the fight. I blended in with the mass, making sure I wore a slightly confused and alarmed expression so I’d look like just one more frightened guest among the others.
Before I could be excused—or slip away—I caught enough of what everyone was saying to piece together the story. It sounded like someone had come in to fire at Eric Benson, who was surrounded by members of law enforcement. He lived. Others insisted that the shots were fired at O’Malley, who was shouting and raging at the club manager. He also lived.
Both of those claims were one and the same. Eric and O’Malley had been seated at the same table, so a shot taken at one very well could’ve been a shot aimed at the other. As soon as the first sound of gunfire had happened, others got their guns out and fired at where they thought the perp was. It was the perfect chaotic storm for too many guns to be fired in too small of a place, hence the general confusion and danger that had taken over the whole place.
What, someone else is trying to take a hit on my target now?
Lev contracted me to kill O’Malley, and I would. But I’d be damned if someone else tried to pull off that feat before I could.
After it seemed like there was nothing else to learn or overhear, I watched Eric and O’Malley exit. Guards and cops flanked them, and I knew their security would be ramped up after this.
Now it’ll be even harder to get a lock on O’Malley.
I left, scowling as I headed out of there. I’d just come from the Baranovs’ place, but I planned to speak with them again. Updates were a decent excuse to get closer to them, and I sort of had one now. Others might succeed in killing O’Malley before me if those shots had been intended for him, not Eric. But they didn’t know that the Ilyins planned to marry Sonya off to him.
Which is not going to fucking happen.
I huffed, finding the thought a joke.
Now that I’d had her, twice, I refused to entertain the idea of some slick politician having the woman who seemed so perfect for me .
Secrets and all, Sonya felt like mine.
But before I could let her in on that concept, I had to sleuth around a bit more. Not only to know why she was hiding and staying distant from her family, but also how I could get her to stay and come back.
Once wasn’t enough.
Twice wouldn’t do either.
There was something about that woman that was twisting me all up inside. She’d captured my attention. If I wanted to be poetic about it, I could admit that just seeing her twice, she’d put a damn spell on me—whether I wanted her to or not.