Chapter 12 #2
“Use one,” I say.
Artur reaches into the nightstand as I continue stroking him. He tears open the packet with his teeth, then rolls the condom down his shaft. Black latex covers him to the base, making the width look even more severe against his hand.
Artur catches my waist, then rolls onto his back and pulls me over him. My knees settle beside his hips, and he positions the covered head between my legs, sliding it through the wetness already coating me until he holds it at my opening.
His hands close around my thighs, and he controls my descent, lowering me onto him.
Although easier than our bare first time, the first stretch still forces me open by degrees around his thickness.
Breathing through the pressure, I sink another inch while his hands stay still on my thighs.
Under me, his face has gone tense; a vein stands along his neck, and his gaze fixes on the place where I’m taking him.
“More,” I whisper.
Artur’s fingers dig into my skin. “Take it.”
I lower until my ass meets his thighs.
Fullness presses deep into my pelvis, and I tighten around the condom, adjusting to the hard length seated inside me. Artur’s head falls back against the pillow for one breath before he looks at me again.
“You chose me,” he says.
I lift my hips, drawing him halfway out. “I’m currently demonstrating that.”
I sink again.
His cock fills me with a slow drag that reaches every sensitive place left tender from our first time. I begin moving, lifting until only the head stays inside, then take him to the base. The shirt slips from one shoulder, leaving my breasts exposed as the lower half drapes across his stomach.
Artur watches them move above him, and his hands climb from my thighs to my waist, then take the pace from me. He lifts and lowers my body as I brace my palms against his chest.
His thumb reaches between us. “You let Sergei look at what belonged in my hands.”
I stop moving.
Artur’s grip loosens at once.
“My body belongs in my hands,” I tell him. “You get it when I choose you.”
His gaze meets mine. “Then choose me again.”
I take his hand from my waist and press it over the wrist Sergei held. “I am.”
The anger leaves his face, exposing hurt under the desire.
Artur moves me again.
Artur’s thumb circles my clitoris as his other hand closes around my wrist. Each stroke of his cock lifts me into the pressure, winding pleasure tighter with every downward roll of my hips.
“Tell me what happens when someone touches me after I say no,” I breathe.
His eyes stay on mine. “He loses the hand.”
I take him deeper. “And if he keeps touching me?”
“He dies.”
The answer sends a hard contraction through me; Artur feels it, his cock jerking as my muscles close around him.
He tightens his grip on my ass, and I lift before driving myself down to the base.
Artur sits up under me, his chest meeting mine as one arm closes around my waist. The change forces his cock deeper against the place that breaks my breath. I wrap both arms around his shoulders, trapping the warm cotton shirt between our sweating bodies.
His mouth finds my neck, and he bites below my ear, then soothes the mark with his tongue. I pull his hair, opening myself further when he thrusts upward.
Artur does it again, harder, and my movement disappears under his control. He holds my wrist against his shoulder as his other hand grips my ass, lifting me to meet each thrust.
The bed begins striking the wall.
Pleasure tightens until I can no longer laugh as my thighs shake around him and each upward drive catches below my clitoris where our bodies meet, building pressure too quickly for me to control.
“Artur.”
“Come on my cock, wife.”
I press my forehead to his. “Make me.”
His hand leaves my ass and moves between us. Two fingers rub my clitoris as he thrusts into me, each rough stroke tearing another sound from my throat.
The orgasm closes around him.
My body locks, then hard pulses begin moving through my pelvis. I cling to his shoulders as his cock fills me through every contraction. His fingers keep working, and his mouth covers mine when I cry out.
Artur keeps thrusting through every contraction until his control breaks several strokes later. He grips my hips and drives deep, holding me against him as his cock jerks inside the condom.
His breath leaves against my neck in a rough sound.
We stay upright for several seconds, my knees trembling beside his hips as his arms hold me close. Sweat cools between my shoulder blades where the shirt has fallen back into place.
Against his chest, my heartbeat slows; first comes the vent’s whisper, followed by damp cotton clinging under my breasts.
Through the muscles that held him too tightly, an ache spreads; Artur’s hand moves up my spine without the possessive force he used during sex, his palm following each breath until the shaking in my thighs begins to ease.
Artur kisses my temple, and the tenderness after the violence of pleasure frightens me more than I want to admit.
He eases me onto my back before withdrawing, and the condom shines when he removes it, heavy at the tip. He ties it off and drops it into the wastebasket beside the bed.
“Improved aim,” I murmur.
“The lighting is poor.”
I laugh against the pillow.
Artur pulls the shirt down over my thighs, covering me before he lies beside me. His breathing is still uneven when he takes my wrist again.
He turns my hand palm up, then presses each fingertip as he watches my face.
His examination carries no assumption that my silence means comfort. He waits after every touch, giving me room to pull away. The same man who fired before Sergei’s body could leave mine now handles me with a care that tightens my throat.
“Any pain?” he asks.
“No.”
His thumb passes over my pulse. “Sergei won’t be the last man who tries to use you against me.”
“He’ll be the last man who mistakes flirting for permission.”
Artur looks at me.
I touch the uneven skin beside his right temple. “Do you still believe I want an easier man?”
“You chose to stay in a war.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
His mouth curves without humor. “Part of me will believe it whenever I see you look at someone who can offer ordinary mornings. I know you chose me. Knowing doesn’t remove the fear.”
The unsparing answer hurts, yet I prefer it to reassurance.
I move closer until my head rests against his chest. “I don’t know whether I’ll ever want your world. I want you inside the life I’m building, even when you make it difficult to find the door.”
His arm closes around my back. “I can install more doors.”
“That was almost romantic.”
“Don’t tell Boris.”
The phone on the nightstand begins vibrating.
Artur reaches for it without releasing me. “Yes?”
Boris’s voice carries through the speaker, low and urgent. “The dead casino captain’s messages are authenticated. We traced the account that funded his handler.”
Artur sits up, taking the warmth of his chest with him. “Saranov?”
“A shell company tied to Pasha’s freight business. There’s more. The company paid an electrical contractor for work inside Dymov Casino.”
I pull the shirt closed over my breasts. “When?”
Boris answers without hesitation. “Six weeks before Sergei died.”
Before the war. Before the Diamond Draw placed me in Artur’s room. Before Pasha had any public reason to attack Dymov property.
Artur’s hand closes around the phone.
Pasha bought access inside Artur’s casino before any of us knew there was a war.