Chapter 23 Mikhail
MIKHAIL
“No.” Claire turned from me, shifting her head lower to avoid my kiss.
I didn’t wait to follow her. Before, I thought it would make the most sense to give her space. Now, I realized that was my mistake.
“I can’t…”
I gritted my teeth, annoyed that she’d try that line again with me.
“Can’t, or won’t?” I growled as I reached for her.
Snagging her upper arm, I forced her to face me again.
As she spun, she crashed into me. Her hands rose up, planted on my chest. Her breasts smashed between us as I gathered her in a tight hug.
With the lift of her sudden inhale, surprise clear in her bright eyes, she parted her lips.
I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. Feeling her warm and supple as she gasped at my mouth covering hers undid the panic, fury, and worry that I’d struggled with since she'd dared to take off. Every second of her being gone was agony, and I was impatient to find my way back to her.
Her protest was muffled as I sealed my lips to hers. Or maybe she was trying to reply to the harsh question I’d given her.
Pushing me once more, she broke the kiss. Rearing back, she glowered at me, full of heat and irritation. “I said no, Mikhail. I can’t—”
I growled, taking hold of the back of her head to pull her close again. Addicted to the bite of her teeth, the suction of her lips, I dove in to plunge my tongue into her mouth again.
She nipped at my lip, and I yanked back, turned on by her sass and fight. The hint of alcohol lingered in her mouth, adding another layer of mystique to this kiss. She wasn’t drunk yet. She was tipsy, but still with it enough to know what she was doing.
“I said I can’t do this anymore,” she argued, looking as fierce and stubborn as she had the one time she’d slapped me.
“Can’t do this?” I snarled, pulling her in again and kissing her as I lowered my hand to her stomach. Then lower yet, sneaking my fingers beneath the waistband of her small sleep shorts.
As I reached the warm, already wet slit of her pussy, she gasped.
Her mouth parted again, and I didn’t waste the invitation to duel with her tongue again.
Between the desire linking us together and the probable heat of the liquor changing her mind, she softened.
Then sagged. And pushed against me, seeking out more friction of my fingers rubbing over her but not sinking into her wetness yet.
“You can’t let me make you feel good?” I demanded.
She grunted, a sexy little sound of protest like she was put on the spot to have to surrender. Sliding her hands up my chest, she clung to me and kissed me back harder.
That’s more like it.
She could try to fight me, to fight this, but neither of us were strong enough to walk away from this. This hot lust that never abated.
“Or is it just that you don’t want to admit it?” I said when we parted for air. I shoved her shorts down, glad she hadn’t bothered with panties.
“I don’t want to want you,” she confessed, tugging her shirt up and over her head.
“But you do.” I unbuttoned my shirt, watching her and too addicted to feeling her to take off my shirt once it hung open. Feeling the burn of her stare on me, slightly intoxicated as she was, turned me on too much to take this slow. Or to be gentle.
She lusted for me as much as I did her. The reluctant yearning in her gaze proved it.
“You want my hands on you.” I cupped her breasts, thumbing her hard nipples as I admired the dusky pink of her sensitive flesh.
She let her head fall back and moaned as I hurried to unzip and shove my pants down.
“You want my mouth on your cunt.” I tossed her onto the bed and leaned down to swipe my tongue over her juicy folds, slick with her arousal.
“No,” she protested weakly as she set her hands on my head, eager to push my mouth back to where she dripped for me.
I wasn’t in a playful mood, though, already tired of giving her all I could. Gripping her hair, I pulled her up and urged her to drop to her knees on the floor.
“You want my dick in your mouth,” I said, keeping my hand on her hair as I lined up my cock to her lips.
She didn’t protest. She was already gawking at me, likely furious at how I commanded her.
The second I slid the tip of my erection into her mouth, her lids fluttered.
She lowered her gaze as she brought her hands up to my cock, stroking what she couldn’t cram in there.
Back and forth, she sucked me off and moaned like she was famished for me.
I let go of her head, putting my hands on her shoulders as I fucked into her tight, hot mouth. “You want to make me come.”
She moaned, not slowing once.
“You want me to shoot my cum down your throat.”
She sped up, as if the idea of swallowing me down turned her on.
Before she could get close enough, just before I’d lose it, I pulled her off me and pushed her to the floor. Following her down as she landed partly on her side, I crawled behind her and held her up.
“You want me to fuck this little cunt until it’s raw.”
She leaned back against me, delirious. I took her hands in mine, wrapping my fingers around her slim wrists as I lined my dick up to pierce into her.
With one hard thrust, I pushed all the way in.
I dragged my dick over her pussy walls, so slick and tight.
I yanked her hands down against her stomach, as if I could use her own arms as a way to brace her in front of me.
On our knees, with my cock lodged deep inside of her, she cried out. Flinging forward, she nearly fell to the carpet. If I didn’t have a hold on her hands, almost hugging her back to my chest, she wouldn’t have stayed up.
“You want me to fuck you, Claire.”
She shook her head. “No. I want—”
I pulled out as I shoved her forward. Once she was on her hands and knees, I leaned over and drove into her again.
Her sweet moans filled the air.
“You want this,” I told her, gritting my teeth through the pressure to come.
She thrust her ass up toward me, rocking back to get all the friction she could.
Holding on to her hips, I gripped her tightly and fucked her until her thighs shook, until she hung her head and gasped, trying to breathe through her pending orgasm.
“You want this, don’t you?” I roared, needing her to fucking admit it.
She was a liar, talking like she could walk away and not look back. As if she was stronger than this soul-deep connection that tugged me to want her near and forced her to respond like this.
Wanton. Greedy. Soaking wet and making sounds like an animal in heat.
“You want me, Claire. Try to lie and tell me that you don’t.” I closed my eyes, holding back on this urgency to spill inside her. Pounding her pussy as hard as I could, I relished every hitched breath, every sexy little moan of need.
“Tell me!” I demanded, fucking her into oblivion.
She wouldn’t say it. Her admission didn’t come.
Not verbally. Because she came. Crying out loudly and ramming her ass higher in the air, she dropped down.
Her arms gave out as she fell, sobbing under the pressure of needing to snap.
The tension faded for her, and as her cries and sounds mixed with low groans of bliss, she slumped down and sighed.
She couldn’t lie and walk away from this.
From us. I had no idea how to define what the hell I was doing with her when I couldn’t fully accept having a woman in my life.
I had been without a partner for so long, only scratching an itch with flings and whores, no strings attached, for too many years.
The threat of letting Claire in and mattering like this intimidated me.
Because as I fucked her until I came, chasing that high right after her, I couldn’t lie to myself.
She didn’t belong.
She couldn’t stay with me if she didn’t want to be a target.
She was already in too far, too deep, identified as someone associated with the Orlov organization.
As relief coursed through me, I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, greedy to prolong every second of having her glove me and milk me. I had to savor every bit of this orgasm as I flooded her womb.
She wanted to stay but couldn’t. I was the one who had to bend. Not her.
Because as daring as she had been to tell me to give up my life, to end this routine of bloodshed and violence just so she could be with me, I had no way to truly change like that.
I was the boss of the Orlov Family. I would never be able to fill any other title. It was cast in stone. I didn’t know how to do anything but rule and keep my family safe among the other denizens of syndicated crime families.
Watching her breathe steadily, almost asleep on the floor with my dick locked in her slick cunt, I shook my head and hated that she was right.
I didn’t know how to change or be anything else.
Not even her lover, her partner. Her man.
I didn’t know how to lower my guard and truly be a father to my daughter.
I hadn’t known how to adapt and make Olga want to be my wife despite our forced union.
It wasn’t who I was, goddammit.
As I pulled out of Claire, staring at her back as she lay there dozing, I narrowed my eyes at my cum dripping out of her body. Backing away from her and wishing I could meet her in the middle, I lifted my fingers to shove the creamy substance back into her.
It belonged in her, a symbol of the possession I wanted to manage over her.
She belonged with me, making me whole and complete like I’d never been before.
How to make that happen eluded me.
Naked and exhausted, I sat on the floor and rested my back against the bed as I stared at her. She was a mystery, an unattainable conquest.
If she were to stay, I would need to forgive myself for expecting her to always be a target.
But if I could let you go…
I hung my head and wondered what it would take. She’d need to leave, for good, since we were both too tempted to fall back to each other. She would need to move far away, start a new life, take a new name.
And forget all about me.
I sighed and knew it was too late for me to try.
She’d burrowed under my skin and crawled into my heart.
I wanted her to cave and bend to my will.
I was desperate for her to be the first woman in my life to want me and to choose me, even though I acknowledged that she’d need to forfeit who she was before we’d met.