Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dante
"Then prove it." My voice came out low and wrecked, alcohol tightening my throat. "Show me how bad you want me, baby. Let me see how wet that pussy is."
Vera went rigid. Stood there frozen, like she had no clue what to do.
I'd already lost what little patience the booze left me. I grabbed the back of her head shoved down hard.
"On your knees. Open your mouth."
After a beat, she dropped down trembling, parted those wet lips, and took my cock—already thick and purple and pulsing with veins—into her mouth.
"Fuck..." I hissed.
The alcohol raged through my blood. The dim light in the dressing room blurred everything. I could barely make out her shape. Couldn't see her face. But I felt everything—the scorching heat of her mouth, the slick wetness, the clumsy, desperate way she sucked.
She was different tonight. Usually so damn good at this, but now? Sloppy as hell. Her tongue had no rhythm, just licking randomly at my head. Her teeth kept scraping the ridge.
But that awkward, amateur blow job didn't turn me off. It lit me up like a shot of pure lust. My dick throbbed harder in her mouth, swelling bigger, veins bulging.
Fuck... she was like a different person tonight. Driving me out of my goddamn mind.
I sucked in a breath, abs tensing hard. One hand pressed her head down while I rolled my hips forward, sliding deeper into her throat.
"Jesus, you're fucking hot tonight, Vera..." I panted out a curse. "That mouth feels so good on my cock... I'm gonna reward you."
Vera made a muffled, miserable sound. Tears streaked down her face, but she kept going, tongue clumsily working my head.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I hadn't been this turned on in forever. My cock ached. All I wanted was to split her open, fuck her until she cried and begged me to stop.
I grabbed her arm, yanked her up roughly, spun her around, and shoved her hands against the cold mirror. Made her stick that pale, gorgeous ass up high.
I lined up with her pussy—already soaked, dripping wet—and drove in hard.
"Ahh!" Vera screamed, lurching forward. Her hands slapped the mirror, and somehow she ended up in the perfect position to get fucked.
My cock slammed through her tight, slick cunt in one brutal thrust, buried to the hilt. The head rammed straight into her cervix.
"Fuck... you're so goddamn tight tonight!" I growled.
She felt like a virgin. Hot, tight, wet. Her walls clamped down on my cock like layers of soft mouths sucking me dry. I felt every spasm, every ripple of her insides gripping me.
I grabbed her narrow waist and started pounding. Nearly pulled all the way out each time, just the head catching at her entrance, then slammed back in balls-deep. Hit her so hard her toes left the ground.
"Ah... ah... no!" Vera sobbed, voice breaking. Her legs shook violently, knees buckling. In the mirror, I could see her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust.
"So tight... your pussy's choking my cock..." I panted, hips pumping faster, deeper, harder. "Sucking me so good tonight... you been waiting for this? Huh?"
I fucked her harder. My balls slapped her wet lips over and over, making loud, obscene smacking sounds. Her wetness splashed everywhere, dripping down her thighs, pooling on the floor.
Vera's moans shifted from tense to tearful cries.
After dozens of thrusts, her legs shook so badly they gave out.
"Not even close, baby." I laughed darkly, caught her waist before she collapsed, held her up, kept fucking.
My cock hammered into her deepest spots, head battering her cervix like a jackhammer.
I fucked her for a solid ten minutes. Faster. Harder. Vera was wrecked. Upper body slumped against the mirror, crying, drooling, tears streaming. Her voice gone hoarse. "Ah! Ah! Please, Dante... I can't..."
I didn't let up. Drove in harder, slamming my full length into her sensitive cervix every time, knocking her forward.
Suddenly, her depths convulsed violently. Her walls clenched like they'd snap my cock off.
"AHH—" Vera screamed, voice cracking. Her legs went rigid, then shook hard. A hot stream of clear fluid shot out of her stuffed pussy, spraying my stomach and thighs.
The flood came fast and hard, soaking my cock even more, ramping up the pleasure.
"Fuck... squirting like a slut..." I growled, pounding harder. Every pull brought out white foam mixed with her wetness.
Vera lost it completely. Crying and moaning, body limp as water. I had to hold her waist just to keep her ass up. Her pussy kept spasming, even wetter and softer after she came, but way more sensitive.
I felt my climax building.
I wanted to see Vera completely undone.
I grabbed her messy hair, yanked her face toward me, and wanted to see that proud face wrecked and desperate.
Dim light from the hallway hit her tear-streaked face.
I didn't see the pale blue eyes I expected.
What I saw were green eyes brimming with tears.
My brain felt like it'd been hit with a sledgehammer. The alcohol fog ripped apart in an instant.
Wrong... this was Natasha!
But I couldn't stop. The pleasure hit its peak and exploded. I roared, locked my arms around her waist, drove my cock as deep and hard as I could into her cervix, head pulsing.
Hot, thick ropes of cum blasted into the wrong woman's deepest place, flooding her still-spasming womb.
After I finished, I shoved her away. Leaving that warm grip left me feeling hollow, my body screaming to thrust back in. Took everything I had to fight that urge.
Natasha collapsed on the floor. Naked, hugging her knees, shaking violently in the AC chill.
I stared at her, words grinding through my teeth.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Natasha flinched, her voice still soft from the aftershocks. "Vera sent me... to pick up the dress."
I stood there staring, cursing Leo and his idiot friends in my head. All those drinks they kept shoving at me destroyed my judgment.
I cursed myself, too. Couldn't even tell my fiancée from her own sister.
I looked down at Natasha curled up on the floor. Mixed with the guilt and anger, another thought crept in.
Was this some scheme to get close to me? Did she plan this, show up here on purpose while I was drunk?
I even started doubting Leo. Maybe he got me wasted on purpose, set this up with Natasha.
But I dismissed it. Leo was my bodyguard. He didn't even know the Kornilovs' invisible little daughter. And through my foggy memory, I remembered—when I first grabbed her, she fought hard. The force against my chest was real. That resistance wasn't fake.
But she had a mouth.
Natasha could've screamed. Could've shouted my name, told me she wasn't Vera. The store was full of staff. One scream and someone would've burst in, stopped everything.
But she said nothing. She knew this was a fucked-up mistake. And still chose to spread her legs and take her own sister's fiancé.
I never thought shy, quiet Natasha—always hiding in the background—would turn out to be such a whore.
The tiny flicker of guilt I'd felt vanished.
Honestly? I was disappointed. In that nest of Kornilov vipers, I'd actually liked her. She always stayed in her corner and kept quiet. Thought she was just painfully shy.
Turns out she's like every other woman in this world. Scheming. Opportunistic. Probably thought this was her shot to climb up, steal resources from her sister with some dirty body transaction.
Probably thought sleeping with me once would change her position in the family.
She made this too easy.
Anyone stupid enough to play games with Dante Romanov would only end up dead faster.
I bent down and grabbed my shirt off the floor.
While dressing, my eyes swept over Natasha again.
Can't deny it—her naked body was tempting as hell.
That full figure trembling in the cold air.
Her pale skin covered in fresh bruises and fingerprints from me.
That fragile, sexy image could stir any man.
But I had no interest. My brain was busy calculating how to clean up this mess.
I looked down at Natasha.
"I drank too much. This was a mistake." I stated it cold and flat.
Natasha immediately dropped her head. Her messy hair fell over her face. She said nothing.
Her silence pissed me off. On my turf, silence usually meant darker schemes brewing. She was probably figuring out how to blackmail me or wreck tomorrow's wedding with Vera. She wouldn't just let this go. To keep tomorrow's wedding clean, I had to make this crystal clear.
I crouched down, grabbed her chin hard, and forced her to look at me.
Her eyes still held that post-orgasm flush.
"Don't play the victim with me. If you breathe one word about tonight, I promise you'll die ugly. I won't go easy on you just because you're Vera's sister. You talk, I'll dump you in the Hudson. Understood?"
Natasha's body shuddered. She bit her lip hard. Her expression was flooded with sadness—real despair and pain, nothing fake about it. For a second, I almost couldn't look her in the eye.
"I won't tell. I'll act like tonight never happened." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
I let go of her chin and stood up.
Good. That's what I needed to hear.
Still under control. Vera and I would marry on schedule. Two family empires merging tomorrow. That's all that mattered.
As for what happened in this dressing room tonight?
Just a drunk mistake.
Nothing more.