Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
KOSTYA
I f I had known Marina tasted like candied cranberries and spiced oranges, I never would have been able to keep my hands off her.
The temptation would have ruined me.
Her hands landed on my shoulders, and for a brief, agonizing second, I thought she was going to pull me closer. Instead, she tried to push me away.
That was not going to happen.
I saw the look in her eyes, the way her pulse fluttered at her throat, the way her pupils dilated, dark and wide with need.
She felt this, too.
I refused to be denied any longer.
I had spent months chasing her. Years denying my attraction to her.
I was never letting her go.
Ever.
It had been too long. Too long since I had been bound to a cold, cruel woman .
I deserved this.
I deserved her.
I had hunted her down.
And caught her.
By right, she was mine.
Finders keepers.
My fingers tangled in her hair, tightening at the base of her neck as I tilted her head back and thrust my tongue past her lips, deepening the kiss, taking what I needed.
She could push at my shoulders all she wanted.
It didn’t change the fact that at first, before her mind caught up with her body, she had melted into it.
A tiny voice in the back of my head rattled off all the reasons this was wrong.
She was too young. She was Veronika’s sister.
But Veronika had never been faithful. She had become my wife in name only.
And now, she was dead.
I had promised to protect Marina from Solovyov.
I never said I would protect her from myself.
The resistance in her hands weakened, fingers curling into my jacket instead of pushing me away.
Good girl.
I released her hair and traced my hands down her jaw, cupping her face, feeling her warmth before sliding lower, following the elegant curve of her throat to her chest.
Her breasts were perfect, full and soft. Mine to touch, taste, devour.
An image slammed into my mind. Marina, on her back, breathless and desperate, her thighs trembling as I pushed my cock between her lush curves, dragging pleasure from both of us until she was soaked and shaking beneath me.
Fuck.
I needed to stop.
This wasn’t right.
But God help me, I couldn’t.
She was too sweet. Too warm.
Her innocent kiss was too fucking addictive.
Everything I had felt in the last few months crashed over me.
The sick terror of finding her New York apartment trashed.
The adrenaline of chasing her through the city.
The rage of discovering she lived with men who were too weak to protect her.
All of it funneled into this moment.
This made all of it worth it.
She was the prize at the end of the race.
My hands skimmed down her body to her hips, gripping tight, owning her shape, and in one smooth motion, I lifted her, pressing her against the wall.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, ankles locking behind me, her body molding to mine.
I groaned at the friction. The unbearable heat where my cock lined up between her thighs.
I needed more.
I slid my hands beneath her sweater, hating the feel of cheap fabric against my fingers, despising the layers keeping me from what was mine.
A woman like Marina should never wear anything less than the finest silks and the softest cashmere .
Or better yet, nothing at all.
I pushed my hands under the layers of her clothes. I needed to feel her bare skin.
She was so warm and soft, shivering as I ghosted my fingers up her flesh, over the tiny goosebumps springing up at my touch.
I kept my hands on her sides, my thumbs running against the front of her ribs until they brushed the bottom of her bra. Its cups did little to hide her tight nipples from the touch of my fingertips. She was just as affected by this as I was.
With my thumb and my forefinger, I pinched one of those tight buds just hard enough to make her flinch then moan.
Fuck, I wanted to hear that sound again.
More than that, I wanted to hear her moan in pleasure as she said my name.
I broke the kiss and moved to the slim column of her throat, licking and biting, finding every spot that tightened her fingers in my hair.
“Are you going to be good for me?” I all but growled in her ear.
“No,” she said, breath shuddering through her.
“You should be,” I said. “Good girls get rewarded, and I promise you, I will give you a reward far better than anything in those naughty books you read.”
She gasped as I pressed my body into hers, moving my hand down to her hip to rock her against my cock.
“Please,” she rasped, as she held on tighter to my shoulders. Her thighs trembling around my hips.
“Are you going to be my good girl?” I asked again, then thrust my hips up to give her some of the friction I knew she was craving.
God, I wanted to hear her moan again.
I wanted to strip all of these cheap clothes off of her, lay her down on that soft wool shawl, and show her everything I had fantasized about doing to her.
I was going to claim this woman as my own and leave her far too blissed out in my bed to ever think about another real-life man, let alone a fictional one.
“I—” Her voice broke on another moan as I pressed against her again.
The warmth coming from her body was calling to me, begging me to explore her with my hands and mouth before claiming her as my own.
“Say it,” I demanded. “Tell me what a sweet, obedient girl you’re going to be for me. Tell me you’ll never run from me again.”
Her gaze narrowed, as she tested my patience. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I will put you over my knee and spank you with my belt until you beg for mercy. The only choice you get is if you want to be my good girl or my brat. Either way, I’m fucking this tight cunt of yours until you scream.”
Her pulse raced against my tongue as her hips ground her center against my cock all on her own.
She liked this.
“What’s it going to be, moy zaichonok , my belt or my cock?” I asked as I pulled her sweater up to expose more of her alabaster skin.
Just the faintest hint of her pale pink nipples could be seen through the pale blue lace of her bra .
She answered me by tightening her fingers in my hair and pulling my lips back to hers in an intense kiss.
I let her have control for a second, gave her a moment to explore my lips, and then I took control back.
My hand slid down her body to her tight, round ass as I pulled away from the wall, taking her with me.
Still devouring her lips, I moved her over to the bed, laying her down and moving on top of her after shrugging out of my suit jacket, pressing my weight onto her slight frame, pinning her to the mattress.
Even fully clothed, she was devastatingly beautiful.
Her eyes were blown wide, the deep green of her irises barely visible around the darkness of her pupils. Her lips were a darker shade of pink from my bruising claim, drawing my attention as they parted on ragged breaths. Her cheeks flushed the most beautiful shade, heat blooming beneath her skin, spreading down her neck like the promise of something sinful.
And her hair—fuck.
Her golden strands fanned out over the pillow beneath her, an angel’s radiant, tangled halo, the angel I had always imagined her to be.
My angel.
And I was about to taste her body, which was built for sin.
“Kostya,” she moaned.
Fuck. The way she moaned my name all breathless and needy was almost enough to break me right then and there.
I dragged my lips down the column of her throat, lingering at the delicate flutter of her pulse, tasting the heat that rose beneath her skin.
She arched into me, her fingers tangling in my hair, nails biting into my scalp as I moved lower, tracing the swell of her breast with my tongue, catching a taut peak between my lips, nipping and sucking through the thin lace until her breath hitched.
Her thighs clenched around my waist, her body shifting instinctively, seeking friction. But I wanted her desperate. I wanted her writhing. I wanted her utterly ruined.
With a slow, deliberate slide, I kissed my way down her stomach, pausing to savor every tremor that rippled through her as my tongue traced along the dip of her navel. I was determined to taste every inch of her.
Her hands fisted in the sheets as I moved lower, brushing my lips along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as I pulled her yoga pants and panties off her. I exhaled, letting my breath tease over the place she needed me most, and she whimpered, her hips lifting, begging.
“Kostya, please,” she gasped, her voice broken with need.
“Shh, babygirl,” I murmured, pressing a kiss just above where she ached. “Let me worship you properly.”
Then I parted her with my fingers, baring her to my gaze, my mouth watering at the sight of her glistening, swollen, ready for me. I dragged my tongue through her slick heat, tasting her as if she were my last meal, and fuck, she was perfection.
Her body jolted, a sharp cry spilling from her lips as I circled her clit with slow, deliberate strokes, teasing her, driving her higher. I wanted to watch her fall apart, to feel her come undone against my mouth.
I flattened my tongue, pressing harder, licking, sucking, devouring.
She twisted beneath me, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate pants the closer I pushed her to the edge.
And then I slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she shattered, her back arching, her hands yanking at my hair as she came with a sobbing moan of my name.
Mine.
I kept going, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure until she collapsed against the sheets, boneless, ruined.
But I wasn’t finished.
I licked my lips, savoring her taste, and looked up at her with a wicked grin. “You taste like sin, angel.”
And I wasn’t nearly done worshiping her.
Her hips rocked against me, seeking more, and I swore under my breath, my restraint hanging by a thread. I reached down, my fingers finding the zipper of my trousers, ready to free my cock and sink it deep inside her tight— Crack.
A sharp, blinding pain exploded at the back of my skull. Right where that fucking officer had slammed his baton.
White-hot agony seared through my vision. My body seized.
And then nothing.
The world went black.