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“Now you tell me,” I mumbled.
Forcing myself to stand, I placed the glass on the dresser. His bedroom loomed before me, done in grays and blacks. It was so utterly masculine. The same wolf that served as his company’s logo, the one he had inked onto his back looked down at me from the ceiling where a mural had been painted.
Holy fuck. It was beautiful, menacing, but it filled me with a sense of peace. Like the wolf was watching over us, keeping us safe. That was ridiculous. I snapped my attention to the enormous windows and frowned.
“Can people see us in here?”
“No. The glass is special. No one can see inside, and depending on the setting, the light will filter through however little or much I desire.”
“Wow. That is incredible,” I said and meant it.
“So, this is your room, but where do I sleep?”
“Here, of course,” he said, spreading his arms wide as if it were simple.
“No. You had your chance to talk terms, and you never said I had to sleep with you.”
“Of course, I did?—”
“No, you really didn’t. I agreed to live with you and have sex with you for one month, Adrik. But I won’t sleep beside you.”
However, I’d expected him to react, what he did next was so not it. Adrik snarled something in Russian. It must have been a curse. But it wasn’t the profanity that made me freeze like a deer in headlights. It was the sound he made. Like a motherfucking animal.
He stepped forward, barking commands at me in a language he knew I did not speak. As if he was too angry by the fact I’d outwitted him to remember English. Odd really because most of the time he didn’t even have an accent. Only when his emotions ran high could I hear his Eastern European origins.
He grabbed the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head, spinning me around to face away from. Next, he took the waistband of both pairs of pants I had on and pushed them down. For some reason, I helped, kicking them off my legs, then cursing myself for my own stupid complicity.
The muted violence in his movements should have scared me. Christ knew I was breathing like I’d just taken a spin class. But instead of fear, my pussy throbbed and grew slick with need. The man was turning me on like no one else ever had.
I was speechless. No one had ever treated me that way. He fisted the collar of the oversized t-shirt I had on and ripped it right off my body. I’d foregone a bra since a) I wasn’t planning to leave my apartment that day, and b) with all those layers, who needed one?
My panties were next, and then I felt him pushing his knee between my thighs as he bent me over the bed. I moaned when my nipples came into contact with the bedding, panting now that he was running his hands over my flesh.
“So fucking beautiful, Zaika,” he growled, calling me that Russian pet name he seemed stuck on.
I’d have to remember to ask him what it meant once I was capable of speech. He tugged on my hips, positioning me so I was on my knees, thighs spread, ass in the air, face and chest pressed on the mattress. Again, the windows acted like mirrors and since his bedroom was in the corner, I could see our reflections either way I turned my head.
He tore off his own jacket and shirt, but that was all he managed before he leaned forward and pressed the flat of his tongue there. I moaned loudly. No one had ever done that to me before. Adrik growled, using his hands to spread me wide as he licked me from asshole to clit, his fingers seeking, searching, exploring both orifices and I could not do anything but feel. And feel I did. I moaned as he licked me, thrusting his fingers inside my pussy, then using those same arousal-coated digits to press inside my ass.
“You can’t,” I said, gasping on the words. But he could. And he did.
I expected pain, but that was not what happened. Oh, Adrik was feeling something. Anger. Outsmarted. Fierce desire. Maybe a need to dominate me. But here was the real kicker. I loved it. He was taking me to a place I’d never been, and I could not wait for him to raise the stakes.
As if on cue, I felt his teeth graze across my right ass cheek. Then he bit me. Hard.
“Ow!”
The bite was followed by kisses, then his tongue. He licked and soothed the sting with his mouth. So soft, so good. Christ, the man had talent. He was driving me insane, making me come undone with hardly any effort at all. I was completely at his mercy. And that was bad because I wasn’t sure if he had any mercy in him.
I moaned, rocking against his hand, wanting him deeper. He grunted in approval, palming my ass cheek as if proud of the print he undoubtedly put there. Fuck. Just thinking about it made me even wetter.
“Please,” I begged, trying to rock back against him.
“Shhh, Zaika. So needy,” he whispered, the smug bastard smirking as he did.
Before I could scream at him to stop messing around, he went back to licking my clit, forcing me to lose my mind. But never letting me come. On and on, his sensual torture continued. He’d lick my clit, fucking me with his fingers in my ass, and my pussy, but then he’d stop and withdraw, slowing down so I couldn’t achieve orgasm. And I really, really wanted to come.
Finally, the sound of him undoing his belt and the swoosh of fabric as his pants slid off his powerful legs, all the way to the floor reached my ears, and it was like music. One of his fingers was still inside my ass, and he was stroking me slowly, moving in circles that teased all my senses. I’d never had that there before. It was strange and new, dirty in a good way. If I said I missed it when he withdrew, that would be an understatement. I fucking moaned when he pulled out and the bastard chuckled again.
