Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
BIANCA
The sound of smashed glass from the terrace nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Whatever is going on outside isn't good. Daniil’s been out there for the last hour, holed up with a bottle of Macallan, while I pace our hotel suite aimlessly, waiting for him to come inside and claim me as his bride.
Maniacal laughter nearly slips from my mouth when I catch my reflection in the bedroom mirror.
I am in way over my head. Dolled up like a sex kitten, my hair cascades down my back in waves, strappy stilettos adorn my feet, and I’m wearing a black lace bra-and-panty set worthy of a Victoria’s Secret runway.
I scream sex.
Talk about false advertising.
What I lack in skill, I’ll make up in pure determination, because one way or another, I’ll entice Daniil Kozlov to fall under my spell.
Even if he currently considers me no better than gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
Things were tense before the wedding, but something snapped when Daniil saw me with Jorge tonight.
He mistook me being cornered by my ex for a cozy conversation.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Jorge's fingers had dug into my wrists, holding me in place as he offered false congratulations. “Such a beautiful wedding, chica. And I have good news for you. Your uncle put me in charge of working with the Kozlovs, so I’ll be living in New York, too. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep a close watch on you and your Russian trash. ”
The fury I’d felt when Jorge grabbed me quickly transformed into fear. Instinctively, I sought out Daniil and found him across the room, his eyes flashing with violence. He had a pistol shoved into Jorge’s side before I could blink, and words of possession slipped from his lips.
Touch her again, and they’ll need dental records to ID your remains.
The thrill of his words sent shock waves to my core. I am his now. And that should scare me, not cause a little jolt of heat between my thighs. Because Daniil may want to possess me, but he also hates me.
“What are you doing?”
I spin at the sound of his voice, smooth and deep, coming from the doorway to the bedroom.
He’s leaning against the wall, wearing his suit pants and a bare chest that served as a canvas to some needle-happy tattoo artist. Bratva members often have tattoos that tell a story, or at least the old-school members did.
I don’t know what the swirl of colors covering his chest and arms represent, but I do know that no matter how much ink adorns his skin, there is no hiding the fact that his chest and upper body appear to be chiseled from rock.
I’m stuck in place, studying him like a mystery I can’t quite figure out.
Yet I want to. I want to unravel him, discover what makes him tick, why he’s looking at me right now with hooded eyes, blazing over my exposed skin.
It’s almost as if I can feel little sparks all over my body where his gaze lands.
I grab onto that flare of lust and desire, and with a confidence I do not entirely feel, ask him, “Are you coming to bed?”
He swirls the ice cubes in his drink, then polishes off the rest of his whisky in a long gulp. When he looks back at me, the hunger in his eyes just a moment ago is snuffed out.
“You think you can handle me?” His voice has a mocking lilt to it. He abandons the glass on a side table, and stalks towards me. “You wouldn’t know what to do with my dick if I gave you an instruction manual.”
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me with a challenge in his eye. As if he’s testing if I have the guts to follow through on my invitation, calling my bluff only to remind me what a silly little girl I am. For that reason alone, I won’t let him win.
I reach my hand out, fingertips following the hard planes of his chest and abs, trailing lower to where a light dusting of hair is evident above his zipper, but he stops me, his large hand curling around my wrist.
He bends low, the tip of his nose nearly touching my own. “We’re not doing that, printsessa. Go to sleep,” he bites before turning away from me. I’ve been dismissed.
“A marriage is not legally binding until it’s consummated.” I’m proud my voice comes out strong and clear.
He stops in his tracks, his shoulders forming a tight line.
Turning, a hiss of air whistles through his teeth.
But I can’t back down now. He already thinks I’m a coward, and I won’t prove him right.
He’s being purposefully cruel, attempting to scare me away, but his taunts only fuel my drive.
I saunter towards him, reach down, and cup him through his trousers.
I’m channeling some alternate-universe seductress, but part of me is reveling in this role.
He feels impossibly hard, throbbing in my hand.
Satisfaction pours through my veins as he releases an animalistic grunt.
“You can teach me,” I whisper.
His eyes drop to my lips. “I don’t fuck with virgins.”
“Well, seeing as I’m your wife, you have little choice.” His mouth thins, and I’m convinced he’s going to push me away yet again, so I reach up on tiptoes to run my tongue along the shell of his ear. “Show me what you like.”
I look up, our gazes colliding. Suddenly, I’m trapped in his very dark, very heavy stare. An energy spins between us, one that threatens to suck me in and never let me go, like a black hole. I could lose myself in this man. As it is, I can’t drag my eyes away from his blazing irises.
When I remain still, his lips curve into a sinister smile. “Now I’m good enough for you? Are you going to think of Jorge while I fuck you?”
“I … no.” The words stick in my throat, his jealousy catching me off guard.
He smirks, forcing the back of my legs against the bed. His big body crowds me, and it feels dangerous, being pushed up against the edge in more ways than one.
“Want to know what I’d like? You on your knees choking on my big cock, using those beautiful lips to suck me dry. Still interested?” he taunts, dragging a finger down my cheek.
My core jolts, I’m both turned-on and wary, but fear doesn’t serve me right now, so I stuff it down and put on a brave face. “Yes.”
His hands drop to my ass cheeks, kneading them as his hard cock grinds against the flesh of my stomach. “Fine, you want to play, little wifey. Let’s play.” He suddenly releases his hold on me. “Take everything off and get on your knees.”
His eyes light up when my tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. For a moment, I’m paralyzed in place, shocked at his sudden change in demeanor, but I brought this upon myself, so now I have to see it through.
Slipping the silky straps off my shoulders, I allow the bra to fall on the soft carpet, then peel my panties down my thighs.
Earlier, I’d imagined myself posing seductively on the hotel bed in this fine French silk, now I nearly laugh at how different reality is from my stupid fantasy.
The cool air causes my nipples to pucker, and his eyes linger, examining every inch of my body with unsettling interest. I use my arm to block my soft belly and heavy breasts.
I’m proud of my figure, but I know I’m far from his ideal.
He’s probably used to rail-thin supermodels and actresses, and I’m all soft curves and generous hips.
But judging by his heated stare, maybe he doesn’t mind after all. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me,” he growls, drinking me in. “Every inch of you is perfect, and every inch of you is mine. Now … Get. On. Your. Knees.”
A thrill travels through my core at the way he claims me as his own.
Following his orders, I kneel down, the carpet plush beneath me.
Daniil takes obvious pleasure in my compliance; the corners of his mouth tip up in a taunting smile that makes him look brutally handsome.
“I see you can follow orders. That’s a good start, printsessa.
” His thumb brushes over my lips, pulling down the bottom one as far as it will go.
“Now, undo my pants and take my cock out.” His voice is husky and rough and betrays how worked up he is. Worked up for me.
My fingers land on his belt, making quick work of opening it, and then undoing his fly.
I keep my eyes locked with his, an attempt to radiate confidence.
A slight tremor in my hand is the only tell that I’m nervous—in way over my head.
If he notices, he says nothing. His penetrating eyes stay glued on my own.
I reach into his open dress pants and take out his impressive length. His cock is big and thick, harder than I’ve ever imagined one could get. “Oh shit,” I mumble.
He lets out a strangled laugh, then moves my hand away, fisting himself. He gives his cock a few hard strokes as a bead of pre-cum drips from his swollen head, and he wipes the moisture on my cheek.
He’s doing this to punish me, to humiliate me—except that’s not its effect. I don’t find his actions demeaning; I find them hot as hell, and the smell of his arousal makes me shiver with pure need.
What’s wrong with me?
I lean forward, trailing my lips against his length. I smile when he twitches beneath me. Fire lights my skin as I take a deep inhale, his musky scent consuming me from the inside out. My seduction might be planned, but this moment is as real as it gets.
“Fuuuck. You look so beautiful like this,” he whispers harshly.
“My very own fuck doll. And that’s all you’ll ever be.
” His angry words pierce my consciousness.
With my hair wrapped around his hand in a tight grasp, he rubs the head of his cock against my lips before thrusting forward.
His erection breaches the seam of my lips, and he stuffs himself into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat.
I choke a little, and he strokes my face gently, a stark contrast to the harshness of his actions.
“That’s right, sweet girl. Let me hear you gag on it. I want tears to run down your face and ruin your pretty make-up.”
Fuck this man. He wants to prove I’m in over my head, that I can’t handle him. But I’ll prove him wrong.
I might be inexperienced, but I’ve read enough romance books to know I need to breathe through my nose while my mouth is full.
His movements are rough and greedy. His hips buck and roll as I wrap my lips tighter around his cock and allow him to set the pace.
When a groan rips from his throat and he tugs at my hair, a thrill shoots through me.
I may be the one kneeling, but I’m in control here. He’s intent on my every move, his expression is almost pained as he throws his head back, a tremor running through his body.
Studying his face, I make note of every expression, every grimace and mumbled curse. I want this moment seared into my memory forever. The way he balances on the edge of agony and ecstasy. I did that to him. All me.
With a final anguished cry, he lurches forward, one hand holding me in place as his cock empties in my mouth. He doesn’t warn me or offer to pull out. He’s teaching me a lesson. Don’t play with the big boys unless you can handle it.
“Look at me when you swallow my cum.” Such a harsh demand, but I give him what he wants.
My eyes are glued to his as he jerks in my mouth with a roar.
I’m not ready for the flood down my throat, but he bucks hard, holding my head in place as l work to swallow every last drop.
Even after, as his cock softens, he stays inside my mouth, breathing harshly.
Fire erupts under my skin, and I squeeze my legs together, desperate for my own release.
One finger strokes over my cheek. “I see Jorge trained you well.”
The heat I felt just a moment ago dies instantly. Doused like water poured over a fire. I flinch. I should have known this is where his mind would go.
He doesn’t offer me his hand or provide any help as I push off the floor. He turns his back on me, as if I’ve been dismissed now that he’s used my mouth. It’s humiliating, although I think that’s the point.
My blood boils, but even as I take my leave and head to the bathroom, I remind myself I’m playing a long game. And playing is indeed the operative term. Because as much as I enjoyed that moment, I came to him with one intention and one intention only.
I will use any means necessary to acquire his trust, and then I will use that trust for my own gain.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, shocked by what I see. The red from my lipstick is smeared across my face, and mascara has pooled under my eyes. My skin is blotchy, and I have sex hair, but damn if I don't feel a spark of satisfaction.
Daniil’s unsteady breaths, guttural groans, loss of control—that was all because of me. His unaffected facade cracked like fine china on a stone floor.
I did that to him. A small victory.
It’ll take more than cruel words and a rough blow job to break me. I have more at stake than he could ever imagine. I’d rather die than lose, and if that’s what it comes to, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.