Chapter 18
There’s a few people—dead and alive—who’d be appalled to see me on my knees in front of a Volkov, especially doing what I’m about to.
I’m inside her stronghold. She’s hiding her exact identity from me, and has no idea I’m well aware who she is, which means I’ve succeeded on every level of my plan. Now that we’re alone, it’s simply a matter of finishing the job.
If I were to obey her command and head for her bed, she’d likely drop her defensive walls. The two knives I have strapped beneath my clothing are easily accessible, and if she has a shred of logic in her beautiful head—which if the past is indicative, she does—then she’s also bound to have a weapon beneath her mattress or somewhere nearby.
Instead, I’m doing none of that. I tell myself it’s to get her to lower her guard even more. Get her naked, fuck her, and catch her in her post-sex haze when she’s weakest. Or even when she’s passing out, exhausted.
So I play her game and lower to my knees in front of her, picturing her as any other woman. The harder I try to replace her dark hair with lighter strands, eyes less malicious, and with the face of my last fuck from a couple months ago, it’s seemingly impossible. Vanessa is, as much as it pains me to admit this about a Volkov, way too fucking sexy.
Sexy and tempting. Appealing to me in ways so few women are, right down to her need to dominate during sex. I should have seen it coming; the woman who fights every day to prove herself must always be in control, especially during this level of vulnerability.
Unfortunately, that’s entirely too enticing for someone like me who enjoys both. Breaking away from my usual persona and handing myself over to another’s control is gratification in itself, but other times, I enjoy putting my partner to her knees as well.
Vanessa’s breathing hikes when I bow my head, waiting for her response. I hate that I enjoy her reactions as much as I do. That I want this—her—as much as I do .
Mio Dio, this is bad.
“How can you serve me?” she repeats my earlier question in an amused tone. “Why would I believe you’d listen to what I say?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
A thin brow ticks up. “Well, since you’ve done so well already, I’m curious where your fantasies will take us.”
Don’t say that. If I act on every fantasy I’ve gotten in the last twenty minutes, I’ll do more than betray everyone and everything I care for. I’ll betray myself.
But there is a specific one I’d like to do. It’s part of the game we’re playing, after all.
I trail a hand up her inner leg, reaching beneath her dress. She inches her thighs apart, using the doors at her back for stability. She sucks in a deep breath but doesn’t stop me as my other hand follows, nudging her dress up to her waist.
I hum low in my throat when seeing the dark spot on her silk panties but resist touching her for now. Delayed gratification has me slowly tugging the article of clothing down her legs until it reaches her knees before releasing them and letting gravity take over.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Perfect, little slit, wet with desire. I can’t wait to take it between my lips and worship her until she begs me to stop—as long as she allows me to get that far.
With my thumbs, I trace the patch of skin connecting her centre to her thighs, keeping my touch light and teasing. If I know Vanessa even a little, she won’t allow the teasing to go on for long.
As presumed, less than ten seconds later, she asks, “Need guidance?”
Unwittingly, I drag my gaze away from her core and up to her face. “Just waiting for instruction, signora .”
Her eyes light up, almost to a glow. She cups my chin while stroking my bottom lip, dragging slowly as she seems to think through her response. “A pretty mouth like this suggests you don’t need instruction, but I’m more than happy to provide, if you do.”
“You can decide that for yourself, I guess.” My eyes flick downwards, indicating where I’d like to look but prevented by the angle she keeps my head at. “If I may begin…”
She releases my jaw but slides her hand up the side of my face until her fingers weave in my hair, and she clutches the strands, keeping me in place. She studies me, her eyes flicking over my face, and my muscles tense as instincts to run away begin creeping up. If she realizes who I am, this won’t end well for one of us. And I’ll be damned if that one is me.
Her mouth pulls into a half-smirk on one side, and she replies, “You may, Zeno.” But she doesn’t release my hair. Rather, she pushes my face toward her pussy, an act I’m all too pleased to comply with.
With both hands on her inner thighs, I part her, baring only her clit and flick my tongue against it. I hear her head fall against the door, and I smile. So easy to bring the Pakhan down. A few licks. An orgasm. This will be over soon and I’ll be returning to Rome in no time.
Her grip tightens in my hair, and it’s hot as fuck when she shoves my face into her, momentarily robbing me of space to properly breathe. I angle away, dragging my nose through her core instead, inhaling her delectable scent.
She arches her hip off the door at the same time she reangles my head with her grip. “No teasing.”
“Sì, signora.”
She makes a noise in the back of her throat as I switch back to licking her slowly from as far back as I can reach, to her clit, and repeat. Her grip loosens with every lap, the muscles in her legs twitching beneath my grip.
It’d be so easy, even now, to attack and end this.
Instead, to get her wider, I lift one leg over my shoulder and sink my tongue deep inside her pussy. Fingers remain on her clit, rubbing fast and hard circles, as my mouth uses a mixture of pressure and sucking, fucking her with my tongue as her noises increase.
Noises I hate to admit will echo through my ears long after she’s gone.
My cock is rock-solid with the need to bury it where my tongue is. She’s so fucking tight, pulsating around me, and it’s impossible not to imagine filling her as she rides me, controlling the depth and intensity, the speed of my thrusts, and when—if—I’d be allowed to come when she does.
After only a moment of the repetitive actions, her moans get more brazen. Her grip tightens and she presses against me. Her knee around my shoulder tenses before she tosses her head back and screams out her release.
I don’t let up on my licks. If anything, they intensify for as long as she allows me to. Which happens to be for as long as it takes her to come down. She yanks me away by my hair, and I despise the burn that radiates through my sternum at the sight of my saliva mixing with her orgasm.
“Turns out, no instruction needed.” She releases me and slides her leg from my shoulder. “Now, remove your clothes and get onto the bed before I have to ask you again.”
I stand, making a show of wiping a finger along my bottom lip and gathering her flavour before sucking my finger into my mouth. Her eyes flare, lighting up to a similar luminescence as the moon outside her bedroom window.
When I turn away, it’s with relief. I hadn’t figured out how to hide my weapons from her if she insisted on undressing me. I actually assumed I’d be patted down at the door or something, and never have gotten this far. So this is it. She either spots my knives now and the fight begins, or I manage to conceal them until a better time.
On my way toward her large king-sized bed, adorned with a black comforter, my pace remains slow, back facing in her direction while I finish unbuttoning my shirt, which is mostly undone from her during the car ride here. Before sliding it off, I pull the knives tucked into my jeans upwards, subtly tucking them inside my shirt in the same movement. When it’s balled up, my weapons are concealed and I’m careful when tossing it to the floor.
“Turn,” she commands.
I do, unbuttoning my jeans as I spin.
She remains against the door, watching, and jerks her chin. “Go on. Finish. I just want to watch.”
Smirking, I pull down my jeans and boxers in one go, my cock bouncing free. I wrap my hand around myself, thumb rubbing the precum beading on my head. I’m harder than I’ve been in a while, and the reason behind it is a horrible betrayal.
Vanessa slowly crosses the room, her gaze locked where my hand is. She reaches for me, nudging my hand away with a lifted brow. “For tonight, this is mine. You’ve agreed.”
“I’m yours.”
My throat goes dry. To be a Volkov’s, even for a night, goes against every vow I made. To say such a thing, though it’s a lie, makes my insides burn.
She smiles, scraping her hand down my chest, her nails imbedding red lines over my skin. She continues down to my waist before stopping, my cock twitching with her proximity and the tease of her near-touch.
“You’re such a pretty one,” she murmurs, eyes skipping down my body. “This cock of yours…” She cups my throat, fingers wrapping my jaw as she drags me closer to her, keeping a fraction of space between us. Her lips stroke over mine; not quite a kiss but close enough I’m practically panting with want. “Get on the bed, Zeno. I’m done waiting.”
“Sì signora.”
Your move, Volkov.