Chapter 6
Sasha
Sweet and innocent.
That’s exactly what Lainey Rose was.
And I’d never done sweet and innocent in my life. Not once. Even as a teenager, I’d gone after the bad girls. Maybe because my father had warned me against them. He’d said they were conniving wenches who were only after money.
It had taken me years later to accept he was right. At least sometimes. Yet, I’d found myself unable to enjoy spending time with prim and proper girls who had a penchant for the bad boy.
Until the day I’d met my wife. She’d been the picture of structured perfection. Sweet demeanor. Eager to defend anyone who needed it. She was the kind of girl to foster puppy dogs and take food to the homeless.
See where that had gotten her. She’d married the bad boy.
She’d paid the price.
That was the Dmitriyev curse.
That’s why just being here with Lainey was so out of character for me and potentially dangerous for her. My brother and cousins had found the loves of their lives, all in beautiful and very caring women who’d completed their lives. They were still alive.
For now.
They’d laughed and told me the curse was broken and I should find a new life. I simply wasn’t a gambling man. That’s why I was so fascinated that I’d broken my own rules. Hell, I’d smashed them to crumbles. She was here. In my life.
In my bed.
Sure, there was more to it than my view on some voodoo curse blackening the family name.
Maybe to some it was no big deal that I’d brought Lainey to my house. However, anyone who knew me well realized even bringing a woman into my world, sharing dinner with her was a break in my personality and habits.
Because of my wife.
I’d always been a private man. Our entire family had been brought up to be very careful who we allowed in, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well.
There were the obvious reasons such as danger to the other person, anyone we cared about considered a weakness.
Then there was the sad comprehension that there were hundreds of people who’d falsify who they were and their feelings for a taste of the good life.
We were wealthy.
We had power and influence.
Just by being associated with individuals we’d skyrocketed careers and bank accounts.
I’d had my share of beautiful scammers attempting to become cozy over the years, but I’d easily been able to shove them aside, seeing right through them.
I’d had no feelings whatsoever, only fulfilling my carnal needs with a trusted individual who understood from the onset that I wanted nothing to do with them personally.
Not a date.
Not a drink over candlelight.
Not a phone call.
And certainly zero time spent inside my house.
It was sacred to me, a safe haven, somewhere that allowed me to wallow in my sorrow even after all these years.
I’d become good at doing so, creating an art form.
While my brothers used to tease or push me into breaking the mold, they’d finally stopped trying.
What was the point? I was set in my ways and happy about it.
Only it had been a very long time since I’d felt happiness.
Maybe that was the reason Lainey was in my house and now in my bed. I’d felt some crazy kind of joy through her performances and the few times we’d conversed. Talking with her was easy. Protecting her from the two dickheads who treated her like property had been easy.
The rest? As I peered at her, the warm glow of light highlighting her soft features, it felt as if she’d always been here.
With her hair splayed out on the sheets and the way her lips were pursed in a blatant invitation, my cock ached more than ever before. I’d wanted nothing more than to ravage her and had. Now I wanted to take my time.
As I’d told her before, she was going nowhere.
At least not yet.
I crawled onto the bed, taking my time to plant one hand beside her before the other. Her arms were over her head, her eyes laced with intoxicating lust. She was feeling exactly the same way I was, a need that could possibly never be satisfied.
“You’re so gorgeous,” I said, which I’d done before. As I’d seen when I’d spoken the words before, she blushed a deep crimson shade that only accentuated her beauty. “You’re not used to hearing that.”
She shook her head. “At least not from anyone who matters.”
Chuckling, I used one knee to open her legs. She didn’t stop me, allowing a soft moan to slip past her lips instead. “So I matter?”
“I think you do.” She placed her hand on my chest, immediately kneading my skin and muscles. Every time she touched me a jolt of electric current flowed directly into my bones. The sensations were extraordinary. When she brushed her hand through my long hair, a smile curled on her face.
“Well, then I’ll need to tell you the truth more often.
” What her life must be like. She had all the fame in the world, something young girls everywhere dreamt about, yet there was so much sadness in her eyes.
When I looked in them, I saw parts of myself.
Anger. Grief. An inability to connect to other people.
Maybe we were just two broken souls.
The way she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip was adorable, but she wasn’t doing so to entice me this time.
She was being natural, anxious and uncertain yet eager to continue the moment we were sharing.
That’s why I wanted to take my time and make the experience special.
Maybe so she could keep the memory locked away all to herself on cold, lonely nights.
Just like I would.
The hunger was significant, my balls heavy. As she brushed her fingertips down my chest, darting a look into my eyes before rolling her index finger around my cockhead, I grinned. Even in the heat of the moment I still felt as if we’d been together for a very long time. How was that even possible?
Leaning over, I hovered just above her beautiful face, the few inches allowing me to still see the shimmer in her eyes.
“You’re amazing, Sasha Dmitriyev.” She added a Russian accent when saying my name. The bad boy was still inside me because I wanted her to scream out my name when I filled her with my cock.
Maybe I’d require her to do so.
The thought was sinfully delicious.
“I’m just a man.”
“And I’m just a girl.”
“Then that makes us perfect for each other.” I captured her mouth, holding her lips against mine and not moving for a few seconds. Her body shuddered enough I could feel the tension release. She wrapped her long fingers around my shaft, gently stroking me. Perhaps she thought I was fragile.
The thought was enjoyable, making the kiss that much more special.
She was the one who slipped her tongue inside first, tasting and tempting in a way that ignited the embers all over again.
She had a way of doing that by just tossing her gaze in my direction, which she’d done long before this night.
She rolled her other hand over my shoulder, grabbing my hair as if holding on tightly from fear of being blown away. The kiss became even more passionate, two people needing to be anchored. Soon she wrapped one leg around my hip, pulling me even closer.
Now I was unable to hold back, ravaging her mouth as I’d done before. Every sound she made drove me crazy and my hunger exploded. I finally pushed away, both of us gasping for air.
“Fuck. You’re so…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. That wasn’t like me either.
Her soft giggle was just additional fuel. I settled between her legs and cupped the side of her face with one hand. She closed her eyes, completely comfortable with whatever I’d do. I dragged my tongue from one side of her jaw to the other, inhaling her sweet perfume until I felt lightheaded.
Or drunk.
She continued stroking me until I sensed she couldn’t take it any longer. As I placed the tip against her swollen folds, she murmured exactly what she wanted.
“Fuck me. Don’t stop. Just… Make me feel alive again.”
Her words mirrored my thoughts. I slipped my cockhead inside, nipping her earlobe and trying to collect myself, the desire so strong.
She wasn’t concerned that I would be too rough or possibly hurt her. As soon as she wrapped her other leg around my thigh, we both relented. I thrust the remainder of my cock inside.
“Oh, yes.” Her words whispered, she arched her back, taking shallow breaths that turned me on even more than before.
I pulled out, rising onto both palms. There was nothing more powerful than being able to gaze on her stunning face.
How could anyone so beautiful and so talented be so haunted?
I was furious with her fucking manager, wishing I’d give Damien a new face.
How dare anyone consider hurting her in any way?
Maybe she could read my mind because she opened her eyes, her gaze now imploring. She even squeezed her pussy muscles as if I needed any encouragement. I thrust into her long and hard, keeping a slow and steady rhythm. We never took our eyes off each other, barely blinking.
She was hot and wet, her pussy clenching around my thickness to the point I could lose it quickly. And that’s not what I wanted.
“So hard. So thick.” She nodded as if needing to confirm what she’d just said.
“So wet. So hot.”
We could laugh together, easily and with comforted joy. She clamped her feet together around me and in a moment of surprise, she was able to flip us both so she was on top.
Now her laughter was easy, natural and the sound keeping every muscle in my body aching.
“You thought you were in charge,” she purred.
“Don’t tempt me into showing you just how much because I will.”
“Not if I have anything to do about it.” She lowered down, swishing her hair back and forth before kissing my lips.
Softly at first.
Then crushing hers to mine as she rocked against me. There was a quiet storm building between us, the friction and heat from our bodies more intense.