Chapter 10 #2
The only sound in the room was the music coming from the speakers, and the low thump from the music outside the curtain. Otherwise it was quiet.
I didn't want it too loud. I wanted to see if I could hear her heart race from across the tiny room.
The bass line thumped softly, hypnotic and compelling as she tentatively lifted her arms, unsure of the movements or what to do. Then her hips swayed. It was barely noticeable at first, my jacket hiding most of her movements, but she followed the rhythm of the music.
As the music pulsed through the room, something changed.
Her eyes closed briefly, surrendering to the rhythm despite herself.
My gaze locked on the gentle sway of her hips, the way her throat worked as she swallowed nervously.
Despite her fear—or perhaps because of it—my cock strained against my pants, demanding attention I refused to give it. Not yet.
Watching her dance was exquisite torture.
Each small movement revealed another glimpse of the curves I intended to claim.
The slight arch of her back, the way she bit her lower lip in concentration—all of it stirred something primal in me.
The way she moved wasn't practiced like the whores in this place.
It was innocent, vulnerable...and infinitely more arousing.
Her moves were clumsy, unpracticed. I got the distinct impression that she was just copying moves she had seen the other girls do.
There was something about that fact that pleased me. I didn't want to know that other men had seen her dance for them. I should be the only one ever seeing her like this .
My body ached with the need to touch her, to pull her down onto my lap and hold that heat against me. But I restrained myself. This game was too delicious to rush.
I tilted the gun slightly, making sure she knew it was still in play.
"The jacket," I demanded, my voice rougher than I intended.
Her fingers clenched the fine Italian fabric and her breath came out shallow. Slowly, achingly slowly, she slipped the jacket from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
I could see more of her body move now, the thigh highs and tight shorts leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
My mouth went dry at the sight of her curves, fully revealed in the dim light.
My gaze trailed hungrily over her exposed skin, lingering on the swell of her breasts against the cheap corset.
My hand tightened on the gun, knuckles white with the effort of restraining myself.
It still wasn't enough.
"More," I demanded, the word coming out like a growl.
A stifled sob escaped as she reached behind her back, fumbling with the corset strings. Then she turned her back to me and I realized they weren't the corset strings at all. She’d tied the cheap satin together with what looked like shoelaces.
What the hell kind of establishment was this?
As she struggled with the makeshift ties, my eyes traced the delicate curve of her spine, the soft dimples at the small of her back. Heat pooled in my groin, my cock throbbing painfully as I imagined pressing my lips to each vertebra, working my way down her body until she trembled beneath me.
Her shoulders shook and her hands trembled, but eventually she got it, and the corset slipped lower.
"Turn around," I prompted, my heart racing with anticipation.
She did as I demanded. As she faced me, her hands gripped the cheap satin and held it to her chest.
My expression darkened, and the way she took a shaky step back told me she picked up on it.
"Let it go."
Her eyes slid closed for a moment as she sucked in a deep breath and then let the cheap satin fall to the floor.
Her arm snapped back to cover her full breasts. I only caught a hint of a pale pink nipple, but even that glimpse sent a jolt of pure desire through me. My breathing quickened, nostrils flaring as I took in her scent—fear mingled with something else, something sweet and undeniably feminine.
"Put your hands over your head."
She hesitated.
"That wasn't a request, moy kotyonochek ." My voice hardened nearly as fast as my cock did.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she raised her arms, her pale pink nipples tightening in the cold air, goosebumps scattered along her skin.
I ached to taste them. The sight of her bare breasts, perfectly sized for my hands, made sweat break across my brow.
I wanted to capture those tears with my tongue, taste the salt of her fear before claiming her mouth.
"Now the shorts. "
God, this woman was going to look so fucking beautiful stretched out bare in my bed.
She sucked in another deep breath, lifting her tits up further in the air.
This time, she didn't hesitate. Her thumbs went to the tiny shorts and hooked into the waistband, and she slid them down her hips and over her thighs until she stood there in nothing but the thigh high fishnets, a garter, heels, and a thong.
The sight of her nearly naked body sent a surge of lust through me, so powerful I had to grip the chair to keep from lunging at her.
My gaze devoured every inch of exposed flesh—the gentle curve of her stomach, the flare of her hips, the soft mound barely concealed by thin fabric.
My mouth watered, imagining how sweet she would taste against my tongue, how her thighs would tremble as I forced them apart.
"Kick them to me," I demanded, my voice husky with need.
She looked so fucking perfect bared to me.
Visions of her nude like this down on her knees, choking on my cock like she had last night flashed through my mind.
Had she been a good girl and stayed, I would have taken her back to my hotel room.
Spread her out in my bed and had her over and over.
By the time I was finished, she would have had a new meaning for the word satisfied.
She hooked the toe of her shoe into the black fabric and kicked them to me. The shorts slid across the floor. I stood and Alina moved back, her ass hitting the mirror behind her.
Without taking my eyes from her, I bent down and picked up her clothes, then tossed them through the curtain into the main bar area, before snagging my suit jacket and shrugging back into it.
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped in horror.
"You bastard!" she hissed.
I smirked.
"Now that my little kitten has no fur, I think she'll be much more cooperative."
Her body tensed, then coiled like a spring.
She lunged for the curtain to get to her clothes, but I was faster.
My hand snapped out, wrapping around her delicate throat before I yanked her body back to mine.
Her bare skin pressed against my suit, my breath hot against her ear.
The softness of her curves against me, separated only by the thin fabric of my shirt, nearly undid my control. Her pulse hammered against my palm, her skin hot and alive beneath my fingers. Every breath she took, every tremor that passed through her body, elevated the experience.
"Careful," I whispered, tightening my grip. "I'm not a patient man."
She struggled in my grip, her teeth gritting as she tried to get away from me. The friction of her body against mine only inflamed my desire further, my erection pressing insistently against her hip .
I tsked. "You're going to learn to behave one way or the other."
"Get off of me," she grunted.
"Not until you learn what it means to be mine."
I reached for my belt.
She wanted to learn the hard way, and I was happy to teach her.