Chapter 10 #2
Mikhail and Zorina stand near the entrance, a picture of elegance and dominance.
Mikhail, at thirty-seven, is the third-oldest Antonov brother.
He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with the same sharp features as Leo but softer around the edges, like a blade sheathed in velvet.
His role in the organization is simple: he handles the legal businesses we run in Las Vegas.
Casinos, hotels, resorts, and some of the businesses that launder our money, the restaurants and clubs that serve as neutral ground for meetings.
He’s the face of legitimacy, the one who shakes hands with politicians and smiles at cameras while the rest of us do the dirty work.
Zorina is radiant, her dark hair swept into an elegant updo, her pregnant belly rounded beneath the draping silk of her emerald gown.
Mikhail’s hand rests possessively on her stomach, his fingers splayed wide, as if daring anyone to look too long.
She glows, not just from the pregnancy, but from the way he watches her, like she’s the only thing in the room worth seeing.
Callista tenses slightly beside me as we approach, her fingers twitching at her sides. I press my palm to the small of her back, a silent command: Relax. You’re with me.
Zorina’s eyes light up when she sees us. “Dmitry!” She steps forward, ignoring Mikhail’s low growl of protest, and pulls me into a hug. “You actually came. I didn’t think you’d leave your spreadsheets for a night.”
I smirk. “I had an incentive.”
Her gaze flicks to Callista, curiosity sparking. “And who is this?”
“Callista Vale,” I say, my hand still firm on her back. “My… girlfriend. Callista, meet my older brother Mikhail and his wife Zorina. They’re the organizers of tonight’s event.”
Mikhail’s eyebrow lifts. “Girlfriend?”
I don’t flinch. “Fake girlfriend.”
Callista stiffens, but Zorina only laughs, her eyes dancing. “Oh, I like her already.” She turns to Callista, extending a hand. “Zorina Antonova. And you must be the reason my husband’s little brother is finally socializing.”
Callista shakes her hand, her smile genuine now. “I don’t know about that. He’s still glued to his computer half the time.”
Zorina grins. “Then you’re a miracle worker.”
Mikhail studies Callista with the quiet intensity of a man who misses nothing. “So why did you come tonight?”
Callista nods. “I organize events for my sorority. Dmitry said I could learn a thing or two from Zorina.”
“She’s brilliant at it,” I say, before she can downplay it.
“Are you thinking of going into event planning the future?” Zorina asks, keeping her question light and neutral.
“I’m considering it.” That’s the first time I’ve heard Callista admit to it. She’s tight-lipped about her future plans so it feels like a triumph to make her spill the beans. “I like organizing events, and I can see myself doing this long-term.”
Zorina’s eyes widen. “Really? That’s amazing! You should talk to my event planner—she’s always looking for fresh talent. I could introduce you.”
Callista blinks, surprised. “That would be… incredible. Thank you.”
I feel the shift in her, the way her shoulders relax just a fraction. She’s not used to people offering help without strings. Not used to being seen.
Mikhail claps me on the shoulder. “You’ve got good taste, bratishka.” His voice drops. “Just be careful. Women like her don’t stay fake for long.”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
I set my hand on Callista’s back, pushing her deeper into the crowd, away from my brother and his wife.
The ballroom is a symphony of wealth. Silk dresses swishing, cufflinks glinting, laughter like champagne bubbles in the air.
Callista moves beside me, her gaze sharp, taking in the details.
She watches the way the centerpieces match the table linens, the precise timing of the waitstaff, the subtle lighting that makes everyone look their best.
“Zorina has an incredible eye,” she murmurs. “The way she’s layered the lighting—it’s warm but not overwhelming. And the floral arrangements… they’re not just pretty. They’re strategic. The height draws the eye upward, makes the room feel bigger.”
I watch her, fascinated. This is the real her—the one who notices the mechanics behind the magic. The one who cares.
A waiter approaches with a tray of champagne. I take two flutes and hand one to Callista.
She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t. I need to keep a clear head.”
“Drink,” I say, my voice low.
Her eyes flick to mine, wide for a second before narrowing. “You’re not my—”
“Daddy,” I remind her, leaning in just enough that my breath ghosts over her ear. “I am. Tonight, you do what I say.”
A flush creeps up her neck. She takes the glass, her fingers trembling slightly as she brings it to her lips. The way she obeys—fuck, it goes straight to my cock.
We weave through the crowd, and I notice the way her smile changes depending on who she’s talking to. Polite for the older donors, warmer for the students she recognizes, reserved for the men who look at her too long. I don’t like that last one.
When a server passes with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, Callista smiles at him, her lips curving in that effortless way she has. “Thank you.”
My hand tightens on her waist. “Stop smiling at him.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You heard me.” I pull her closer, my mouth near her ear. “Tonight, you only smile for me.”
She coughs. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” I drag my thumb along the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse jump. “Or do you like knowing I’m jealous?”
Her voice is scratchy as she opens her mouth and doesn’t answer. She takes a swig of the champagne.
I take her hand, leading her to an empty table in the corner. I take the chair against the wall, wreathed in shadows. When she tries to sit next to me, I growl.
“Not there. On my lap.”
“What?” She looks around in panic, like a deer caught in headlights. “We’re in public.”
“That doesn’t change anything. You listen to me, babygirl. Daddy knows what’s best for you.”
“Sit,” I order, patting my thigh.
Her eyes widen. “Here? Now?”
“Unless you’d rather I bend you over my knee instead.”
She hesitates, but the challenge in my voice does something to her. Slowly, she lowers herself onto my lap, her dress riding up just enough to tease me. I wrap an arm around her waist, my hand splayed over her stomach, holding her in place.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Now tell me, do you like when I control you like this?”
She shivers. “I—I don’t know.”
I slide my hand up her thigh, my fingers inching toward the heat between her legs. “Liar.” My thumb grazes the lace of her panties, and she gasps, her hips jerking slightly. “You love it. You love when I tell you what to do. When I make you obey. When I leave you no other choice.”
She whimpers, her body tensing. “Dmitry—”
“Shh.” I press a finger against her lips. “No talking unless I say so.”
Her breath comes faster, her chest rising and falling against my arm.
I can feel the way her body responds to my dominance, the way her thighs tremble when I trace the seam of her panties.
I slide my hand under her dress, teasing her wet folds through her soaked panties.
God, she’s so cute when she’s squirming on my lap, face as red as a tomato. I have her where I want her.
“You’re so wet for me,” I murmur, my voice rough. “Aren’t you?”
She nods, her face pink, her lips parted.
“Good.” I slip my finger beneath the lace, finding her already slick, already ready. “Because tonight, I’m going to teach you that nothing feels as good as obeying. And if you do a good job, I’ll stuff my fingers inside you slick cunt and make you come right here.”
“Dmitry!”
The ballroom fades into a blur of noise and color as I focus on Callista, her body tensed and trembling on my lap.
I slide my finger deeper into her panties, tracing her wet slit, feeling her heat and slickness.
She’s soaked, her arousal coating my fingers, making them glide effortlessly against her sensitive flesh.
“You’re dripping for me, babygirl,” I whisper into her ear, my voice low and commanding. “You want this so bad. Control turns you on, doesn’t it?”
She whimpers, her hips jerking slightly as I circle her clit with my thumb. Her breath hitches, and she bites her lip to stifle a moan. I can feel her body responding, her pussy clenching around my fingers as I slide two inside her, stretching her, filling her.
“Shh, be quiet,” I order, my other hand gripping her waist tighter, holding her in place. “Do you want everyone to know what a dirty little slut you are? How much you love being fingered in public?”
Her eyes widen, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
She shakes her head quickly, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Her hips move in rhythm with my fingers, seeking more friction, more pleasure.
Her ass bounces on my lap, grinding against my growing erection, making my cock strain against my pants.
“That’s right,” I murmur, my voice a low growl. “Grind against me. Take what you need from me. Make your body feel good.”
She obeys, her hips rolling, her breath hitching as I thrust deeper, curling my fingers to hit that spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back. Her pussy clenches around me, squeezing my fingers tightly, her arousal coating my hand.
“Fuck, your cunt is so soft inside,” I growl, my cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.
My fingers caress her inner walls. They’re velvet soft, like slick jelly.
I can’t get enough of the texture. I shove my fingers deeper, curling against her G-spot, making her breath fray.
“Look at me, babygirl. Let me see how pretty you look when I’m fingering you. ”
She nods, her breath coming faster, her body tensing as I increase the pace, my fingers pumping in and out of her, my thumb rubbing her clit in tight circles. Her nails dig into my thigh, her body shaking as she tries to hold back her moans.
But she keeps her eyes on me. Steady. Trusting. Innocent. And her gaze alone makes me want to give her the world.
“I want to feel you orgasming around my fingers,” I command, my voice a harsh whisper. “I wish you could see yourself right now. You look so hot. Now squeeze me with that pussy, baby.”
Her body convulses, her pussy clamping down on my fingers as she comes, her arousal gushing out, soaking my hand. She buries her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath hot and ragged against my neck.
I slow my movements, easing her down from her high, my fingers still buried inside her. I press a kiss to her back, my voice low. “Good girl. You did so well. You’ll feel me inside you for the rest of the night.”
She looks up at me, her eyes glazed with pleasure, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted. Fuck, she looks so beautiful like this, so vulnerable and open. I want to bury my cock deep inside her, make her scream my name, make her come again and again.
I slide my fingers out of her, bringing them to my lips, tasting her arousal. Her eyes widen, her breath hitching as she watches me lick my fingers clean. I stand up, setting her on her feet, her body still trembling slightly.
“I wipe my hand on a napkin, and pull her in for a bruising kiss.” You taste so good.” My voice is a growl.
She melts into me, her body soft and pliant against mine. I can feel her heart still racing, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
“We’re leaving,” I say, my voice harsh with need. “I need to fuck you properly.”
She nods, her eyes wide with anticipation and desire. I take her hand, leading her through the crowd, my cock throbbing with every step. I can feel her stumbling slightly, her feet wobbly, her body still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm.
We make it to the car, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the heat coursing through my veins. I open the back door, pushing her inside, my body following hers, my mouth capturing hers in a fierce, hungry kiss.
She moans against my lips, her body arching into mine, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly. I push her back onto the seat, my body covering hers, my cock pressing against her, aching to be inside her.
I hike up her dress, my fingers finding the edge of her panties, tearing them off in one swift motion. She gasps, her eyes wide with shock and desire. I spread her thighs wide, my cock pressing against her entrance, teasing her, making her whimper with need.
“Please,” she begs, her voice a desperate whimper. “Please, Dmitry.”
I don’t make her wait. I can’t. I need to be inside her, need to feel her tight pussy wrapped around my cock. I thrust into her, filling her completely, making her cry out with pleasure and pain.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I growl, my hips moving, my cock pounding into her. “I can feel my cock sinking into your perfect cunt. You’re stretching for me so well, babygirl. Taking every inch I give you.”
She nods, her body arching to meet my thrusts, her nails digging into my back. I can feel her pussy clenching around me, her body already close to another orgasm. I increase my pace, my hips slamming against hers, my cock filling her over and over again.
I capture her mouth again, swallowing her moans, my tongue mimicking the movements of my cock. She’s shaking beneath me, her body convulsing as I fuck her harder, faster, chasing my own release.
Her muscles clasp me even as she chocks out my name, and it’s then that I can't hold back any longer. “Fuck, Callista,” I breathe as I spurt my semen deep inside her. I keep pumping until every last drop has been released inside her.
She whimpers, and I capture her lips as we come down together. I kiss the top of her head, brushing my thumb against her bottom lip.
“You did so well, babygirl,” I say. “Just look at the way you just took my cock. And did it feel good, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She nods, her voice a whisper.
“Callista…”
She looks up at me in curiosity. “Yes?”
I cup her cheek. “Nothing.” My voice is gentle now. “You’re just so good, so beautiful, so perfect.”
She sniffles, like her emotions are swirling inside her. “Did I please you?” she whispers, vulnerability evident in her voice.
I lean down to kiss her. “Yes, you have.”
She steadies her breathing, looks into my eyes with clear, tender sincerity, and shows me how much she appreciates me. “Can you just do me a favor?” she asks. “Don't leave me tonight, okay?”
I rise and brush my lips against hers. “Anything for you.”