28. Anya
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ANYA
The idea struck like lightning in the Beauty and the Beast–style library. And while I would love to take time to appreciate its magnificence, I had a decision to make and it took only a heartbeat to make up my mind.
I was going for it. There might not be another chance.
Jetmir stood a few feet away, looking at me with hunger that I felt in the pit of my belly. It was playing with fire, and I knew it, but I found myself approaching him all the same.
I slid my hand into his palm, electricity buzzing to the tips of my toes. Heat crept into my face at the intensity of my reaction, but I couldn’t allow myself to dwell.
“You know, I would like to try them out,” I said quietly, letting my eyes drift over him for just a second longer than necessary. “There’s this kink I’ve been curious about.” His eyebrows lifted. “Are you game?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “With you, my angel. I’m game for anything.”
Good.
I stepped closer, letting our bodies brush. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“I’ve been trying very hard not to think about you.” The words came easier than they should have. Every lie was bolstered with just enough truth to make it convincing. “And to resist you.”
His expression filled with surprise at my admission.
“Ditto, my angel.”
I reached for his hand, my fingers trembling. It was working in my favor, but damn it, I hated the earth-shattering impact he had on me.
“But I keep imagining…” I whispered, deliberately letting the sentence trail.
His eyes searched mine. “Imagining what?”
I glanced toward the leather chair behind the desk.
“Something ridiculous, but it makes me so… hot.”
I watched his Adam’s apple move around a thick swallow. “Now I definitely want to hear it.”
“You have to promise not to make fun.” I gave an embarrassed laugh, lowering my gaze demurely. “It’s, um… well, it’s role-playing. You’d be sitting behind the desk… I’d be in charge and ride you.” I looked back up, my cheeks burning. “It’s silly,” I murmured.
His smile turned wolfish. “I don’t think that’s silly at all.”
“No?” I breathed, wide-eyed. My chest rose and fell while my core throbbed in anticipation. I wish I could claim it was all an act, but it wasn’t.
“No,” he affirmed, making this whole plan easier. Or harder—that was still up for debate. “Show me, wife.”
I guided him backward with a hand against his chest, in slight disbelief that this was working. He let me steer him without resistance and I couldn’t help but wonder. Did I have that much power over him? Or was he playing me?
The chair bumped against the backs of his legs.
“Sit.” He did, his gaze locked on me with a feverish type of obsession that I feared would burn me at any moment.
I maneuvered so I was kneeling on his lap and my thighs were on either side of his hips, then leaned forward and kissed him gently.
A rumble of appreciation sounded in his chest and he tugged me forward.
I darted my tongue across his lower lip, then nibbled gently.
His tongue took over, engaging in a feverish duel with mine.
He sucked, his erection making itself known against my abdomen. Arousal pooled between my legs, soaking my panties, and I shamelessly ground myself against it.
Our eyes met, the untamed lust weaving through the air.
Next, the sound of a zipper filled the space between us and my mouth just about dropped open. Jetmir’s thick cock sprung out of his pants and he wrapped his veiny hand around his length.
I pulled my lips between my teeth and bit down hard, preventing a whimper from escaping through my lips.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his breath skimming the sensitive skin behind my ear. He tugged on his hard, glistening cock, up and down, the pre-cum at the tip spilling over and tempting me to lick it.
Watching him jerk off was easily the best porn I’d ever seen. I could have orgasmed just from watching this scene play out.
“I need to have you, wife,” he groaned. “I need to feel you. It’s been so long.”
My throbbing center ached to have him inside me, which definitely wasn’t helping me execute my plan.
Thankfully I still had some common sense left and demanded, “On my terms.”
“Anything.”
I opened the desk drawer with what I hoped looked like confidence. There they were. The handcuffs.
My pulse spiked.
“I touch you, but you won’t touch me,” I rasped with what I hoped was a seductive tone. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He looked at the cuffs, then back at me. I expected him to refuse, so it took me two heartbeats to finally process his next words.
“Understood, wife. Just keep kissing me,” he rasped. “I’m all yours.”
He held out his wrists without another question.
The metallic click echoed through the room. I drew his hands together behind the chair, placing the cuffs on one wrist. Then the other.
He gave them an experimental tug. “Touch me, wife.”
“Yes, Thorne.” My core brushed against his hard length and we both moaned.
“Take your panties off.” His voice was throaty, full of yearning I felt in my very soul. I had every intention to get up and walk away. I really did. But my body refused to move, humming with the need that hadn’t been sated since I left Jetmir.
“Anya?”
I stood as if on autopilot and peeled them off my legs, dropping the silky material on the floor. I straddled him again and wrapped my hand around his smooth length.
Jetmir’s loud groan echoed in the space between us, the vibration shooting straight to my core. I started pumping his hard cock, and he threw his head back, watching me through a half-lidded stare.
He surrendered to me and something about that ignited flames through my body. I reached between my legs, brushing my fingers against my clit, and a loud moan escaped me.
“Fuck, yeah… just like that, my angel.”
My knees spread wider and I lowered myself, feeling his throbbing crown tease at my core. The pressure inside me built, taking me higher and higher as I ground myself harder and faster against him, chasing my own pleasure.
I watched him through heavy eyelids while his burning gaze locked on my pussy. I followed his eyes to where our bodies were connected while I fingered my pussy and jacked him off.
“Let me taste you, my angel,” he purred. I brought my fingers to his lips and he opened his mouth, sucking them clean one by one. “Tastes like mine.”
The pulse between my thighs became unbearable. I moved my fingers faster, pumped him harder, purposely notching myself against the tip of his cock. The friction drew grunts and moans from both of us, traveling through the library and ricocheting off my favorite novels.
“Oh… oh…” The pressure built. He buried his face in my hair, breathing words in Albanian, or maybe it was Russian. I didn’t know nor did I care. I just wanted more.
My eyes were locked on where his cock was bumping against my soaked pussy. And still, I continued milking him. Then I lowered my body just another inch and I felt the tip of his hard shaft inside me. That was all it took.
My body exploded into a million pieces and he was quick to follow, his cum spurting all over my inner thighs and core. I kept rubbing my hot pussy while grinding against his shaft, drawing a groan from him again and again.
When I finally came back to earth, it was to him gazing at me with so much reverence it almost sent me toppling over the edge again.
“Uncuff me, wife,” he groaned. “I want to make you feel good. I want more of your moans. We have three years to make up for.”
Guilt snaked through me, but I instantly squashed it down.
“That was… nice.” I regretted that I couldn’t give us both more pleasure. But I knew very well where that would lead: trusting Jetmir like a fool, and being addicted to his touch.
I stood up, then tugged my dress down.
The realization settled over him as if in slow motion, and I couldn’t help but compare it to the last time I’d betrayed him. The day I poisoned him.
“Anya,” he gritted.
“I’m sorry.”
“Wait.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Don’t you fucking leave me.” His voice remained calm. “Don’t leave.”
“I have to.” I hated how my voice cracked. “And I need a head start.”
“You’re my angel, but if you do this, I’ll rip off your wings so you can never leave me again.” His eyes locked on to mine. “I mean it, Anya.”
I backed toward the door.
My fingers found the doorknob and I fumbled to get a firm grasp.
“I really am sorry,” I whispered.
His expression softened for the briefest moment before it hardened.
“There is nowhere you can run to that I won’t find you,” he said.
I slipped through the doorway, letting the door slam shut behind me. As if Dozer anticipated my plan, he sat there waiting for me.
I scooped him up and then ran like the devil was at my heels.