Chapter 8
“You have lost your mind.” I crane my neck, looking back at him.
His fixed expression cracks. “If I have it’s because you’ve broken it.”
Is he trying to be sweet while he has me bare-assed over his lap like some spoiled little girl who needs a spanking?
“Enough fighting, Elana. Tell me. Why did you come to Boston? Why the meeting tonight with Janis?” His hand rests on my throbbing ass.
“I wanted to make it right,” I finally say. “I wanted to make an introduction between Janis and Alexander. I just wanted to make things right.”
His shoulders drop, and he lowers his chin. “Your brothers told you they don’t blame you, they aren’t angry with you.”
“I know they did.”
“Tell me all of it. How did you contact him, what was your plan.”
“Can I get up now?” I start to push against the mattress, but he palms my ass, squeezing.
“No. You talk better like this. Did you ask Alexander or Ivan or Kaz if they wanted to meet with Janis? Have they talked about starting underground parties like the one you were at last week?”
“You were there.” I wasn’t crazy. My body is like an alarm, alerting when he’s around.
“You didn’t answer me.” He drags his fingernails across my sensitive skin. Heat radiates from under my skin straight up to my brain where it turns into a fog of desire.
“No, none of them ever talked about it.” I drop my forehead to the mattress, taking in a long breath as he makes another trail with his nails.
“You’re sweet this way, over my lap, your ass red from your punishment. Your eyes glassy with desire.” He slides his hand between my legs. “Your pussy soaked.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” I completely contradict myself by lifting my hips, giving him better access.
There’s a fire burning low, I need him to put it out before it consumes me.
“It’s the truth.” His finger glides easily through my folds, proving his point. “I will always tell you the truth.”
He eases a thick, long finger into me. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the moan fighting to get out.
This is Artem. The head of my brothers’ security. They will kill him if they find out he’s touching me like this. It will be another betrayal from me.
“Do you want me to stop?” He shifts his hand, rolling my clit beneath another finger and sending thunderbolts of desire into my brain.
“No.” I breathe out the truth.
Logic says to stop him, to stop myself, but desire wins over. How can this be happening?
Years ago I’d hoped to find myself in his arms, but so much has happened since then. I resigned to the fact that it would not, could not happen.
But he’s here now. His fingers creating chaos, his words stoking an ember into a blaze.
“Lie on the bed.” He helps me up to my feet, then gently pushes me onto the bed.
The pillows are lush and soft behind my head, but it’s the warmth in his gaze as he stares down at me that comforts the frayed edges of my soul.
He blankets me, framing my face with his hands and kisses me. Not a brush of the lips. Not a peck on the side of my mouth. A full-fledged kiss.
I sink my hands into his thick hair and kiss him back.
I’m a live wire. Sparks are going to shoot out from my ears soon.
When he breaks the kiss and lines up our gazes again, a new sort of shiver dances through me. His eyes are darker, more focused.
“Spread your legs for me.” He slides down my body, kneeling between my legs as I obey his command.
When I look up at him, he’s staring down at me with urgency and wild desire. He looks like a starved beast who’s been held back from the kill for too long and is ready to devour every morsel in front of him.
He wets his lips, moving his gaze over my body until it settles between my legs. In an instant, he’s on his stomach, his face buried between my thighs.
His hands slip beneath me, cupping my ass and squeezing until I gasp from the tenderness. I’m rewarded with a smirk. One filled with pride.
He scrapes his teeth along my inner thigh. “I’ve waited too long for this to deny myself anymore,” he says, but it sounds far off in the distance. Like he’s talking to himself, not me.
“Tell me no, and I stop.” This time I know he’s talking to me.
“Don’t stop.” I run my teeth over my lip. If I’ve lost my mind, I don’t want to find it. Not yet, not now.
Hooking his arms around my legs, he drags me down the bed another inch. Like bringing his dinner plate up to the edge of the table. He pauses again, kissing my thigh where he’d bitten it.
He says something in Russian, low and guttural. I wish I understood what it was, but my body seems to comprehend fine. Like a tuning fork, I’m vibrating when his tongue touches me.
Using the tip of his tongue, he flicks my clit, and I moan.
He does it again.
When I arch my back, lifting my hips, he flattens his hand over my stomach, pressing me back into the bed. He keeps his hand there, holding me while his tongue dances and darts and sweeps around my pussy.
“Artem.” I grab hold of the pillow behind me. “Oh, god. Artem.”
“Mhhm?” He raises his eyes to mine while his mouth continues to drive me to the brink of insanity. “Do you want to come for me?”
I nod, not trusting my mouth to work properly. Something snarky could pop out and ruin this moment. I can’t be trusted right now.
“Ask me, Babygirl. Ask me to let you come.” He slides a finger inside me, curling it in the perfect way at the perfect spot at the perfect time.
I swallow and shake my head.
“If you don’t ask, you don’t get to.” He’s not fucking around. I know this tone well enough. He’ll stop.
And I’ll have to kill him.
Or at least try.
“Please, Artem.”
He sucks my clit between his lips.
“Let me come.”
“Are you telling me or asking me?” He presses a kiss just above my clit. Close enough I can feel his beard on me, but not enough to get me where I want to be.
“Asking.”
He grins like a cat holding a canary hostage.
“Then make it sound like a question. You don’t get anything without my permission, baby. Now ask.”
“Will you please let come?” I roll my head back when he slides another finger inside. “Please?”
He hovers right over my pussy, his breath warm against my sensitive skin.
“Yes, Babygirl, you can come.” He covers me with his mouth.
His tongue touches my clit, his fingers curl again, thrusting, and I come unglued.
My orgasm is a tsunami of violent pleasure. I scream his name as the waves of it hit me.
“Good girl.” In an instant, he yanks his shirt off and throws it to the floor. His jeans are next as he rips open his fly and jerks his pants off and tosses them away.
He covers me again with his body, taking my mouth as his own. He reaches between our bodies, and in the next breath, drives into me.
The stretch is immediate, and I cry out.
“Shh, give it a second, baby.” He kisses my cheek, then pins my hips to the bed.
But then I moan, and we’re both lost to each other. He drives his thick, hard cock deep into me once again. I dig my nails into his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. Like he’s going to lift off and leave me if I don’t keep him in my grasp.
His voice is ragged. “Good girl, such a good girl for me.”
I moan again, reaching up to kiss his neck. He smells so good, so warm and spicy.
He fucks me like he’s waited his whole life to fuck me, thrusting deeper and harder until we’re a tangled mess of sweat and pleasure and desire.
A bite to my shoulder, then a kiss, and then he pivots his hips and I’m about to take off again.
He drops to his elbows, kissing me just behind my ear. He nips at my earlobe.
“Artem, I have…oh god, Artem, please.” I dig my nails into his skin.
His voice is dangerous and low. “You’re mine, Elana. You belong to me now.”
He props himself back up, lining up our gazes.
These aren’t just words he’s speaking in the heat of passion. I’ve known Artem for too long to think he’d say anything he didn’t mean.
And those words, you belong to me—they aren’t small and meaningless. There’s a weight to them, one I’m not sure I fully comprehend.
If there’s any chance to break away, this is it. I should tell him no. I should tell him to stop.
“Say it.” He orders, brushing his fingertips over my cheek. “Say you belong to me.”
I don’t think I want to break away. “I belong to you.”
He kisses me and increases his thrusts. I hook my ankles around his back as he drives into me harder and faster.
Another orgasm crashes over me, and my throat aches from stretching around my scream. He fucks me even harder, pinning my hips down and driving into me as though he’s chasing the end of a rainbow.
With a guttural growl, he stills, his own release overpowering him.
Our heavy breaths are the only sound in the room for several minutes. Then he rolls to my side, pulling me up against him and kissing me again. He strokes the tips of his fingers down my arm. His breathing falls into a steady pace, reminding me of how dependable his protection has always been.
I’m barely able put a coherent sentence together in my mind when an alarm blares from his phone, and another from the laptop on the dresser. All the calm from a moment ago vanishes.