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“You’re wrapped up like a present, Zaika, just for me,” he growled with a fierceness that should have terrified me, but it only made me want him more.
Adrik’s chest rumbled as he caught my silk-clad nipple and sucked it into his mouth. I groaned, unable to be silent. His fingers dug into my ass, and I pressed down, needing to feel him. Bastard held me still, didn’t allow me to swerve or grind as I wanted to. He bit my breast, and I cried out, the brief pain only bringing me that much higher.
“Where else do you need me, Zaika? Here?” he asked, sliding his hand between us, teasing my pussy with his fingers.
I nodded, desperate for him.
“Did you fuck my brother?” he asked, and I stopped moving.
I was seconds from coming with only the lightest of pressure from his fingertips, and I could not believe my ears. The fact I froze must have solidified whatever misconception he had, because he ripped the bottom of the teddy, plunging two fingers into me without pause.
“Did you get hot and wet for him too, Zaika?” he growled, his fury clear even as he fucked me with his hand.
I wanted to scream. To hit him. To make him stop. But he held me firmly in his steel embrace, keeping me against him. My traitorous body trembled, wanting more from him, and I thought I was going to be sick.
“Did you come for him? Did Marat watch your eyes turn molten when you have your pleasure? Tell me!” he snarled, but he never stopped working his fingers in and out, a mockery of what we shared.
“No! I didn’t fuck, Marat.”
“Tell the truth,” he snarled, grabbing my face with the fingers he just pulled from my pussy. I smelled myself on him, felt the sticky wetness of my arousal as it clung to my cheeks.
“It is the truth. Marat walked me to the café and tried to flirt with me to get information. He thinks I’m a corporate spy. But I told him the truth. I’m just someone you wanted to fuck. Just a stupid, easy woman you bought so you don’t have to work at pretending to be in a relationship,” I snapped, feeling shattered.
“Stop. Stop, Zaika,” he whispered, and I realized I was squirming trying to get off his lap.
“You stop. You stop, Adrik. Let me go,” I said, needing to get away from him to force my body to stop feeling.
The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that he could believe I’d fucked his brother was not going away. I would not forget it. But my body was a slave to his. I couldn’t stop my ready submission or reactions from happening, and I tried. Believe me, I tried.
“No, I will not. You are mine. Mine,” he growled. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”
My eyes widened as he pushed me onto the seat opposite us. My bare ass hit the cold leather, and I hissed, but that was all I had time for because Adrik was on his knees, his face buried in my pussy. He went at me like a beast, and I reveled in his uncontrolled urgency.
Never in my life did I ever expect to elicit such a response from a man, any man, never mind him. Adrik Volkov. The Dark Wolf. He growled while sucking and licking at my sex, sending vibrations rocketing through my body starting with my clit. My orgasm slammed into me, hard and fast, and I yelled his name while clawing at his shoulders. But he didn’t stop then, he continued to lap at my slit, sucking down all my juices until he lifted his head, his chin glossy with it. I panted, watching him as he dipped down again, his tongue snaking out of his mouth.
“It’s too much,” I moaned, trying to wiggle away, but his big hand gripped me tight. Too tight for me to do anything but stay right where he wanted me. And if I were honest, it was what I wanted too.
“You can take it, Zaika. You will take it. As many as I give to you, you will take them. That’s it. Your pussy is rippling already. Good girl. Now, come for me again,” he said, and my legs started to shake on either side of his head.
I did not think I had it in me. But as his fingers filled my heated core, moving in time with his long licks, I discovered I was wrong. Apparently, I could come again. And I did. Several times.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ADRIK
After all the shit that went on, the raging emotions I’d been feeling all night, I finally wore Zaika moya out. I slid her still damp dress over her head and lifted her in my arms, draping the velvet coat around her. Boarding the private elevator to my penthouse, I had Josef hand me her shoes and had him carry my jacket. I could not bring myself to allow another man to hold any part of her. Not even her clothing.
“Do you still want me to bring Marat?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
I nodded, kissing Sofia’s forehead when she whimpered and snuggled closer. She said no to fucking my brother. But I still needed to confront him. He’d left my penthouse with her. Talked to her about me, about us and whatever he’d said, it had changed something.
Jealousy was not a familiar emotion. I did not feel it often. And yet, because of her, I found myself falling into fits of envy that were nothing like me. I was still vibrating with energy, even after making her come three times on my mouth and once on my fingers alone during the drive. My dick was rock hard, but I refused to sate myself until I spoke with my brother.
The elevator slid open silently, just another perk for the wealthy. And I strode across the penthouse, depositing my Zaika on top of the mattress. I removed the damp dress and ruined teddy carefully, so as not to jostle her from her slumber. I forced myself to look away, knowing if I stared at her creamy pale softness, I would not be able to help myself.
Fuck. She was sublime. A beautiful goddess made from moonlight. I was in her thrall. Knowing it and living it did not make it any easier. But I would do terrible things for this woman. And I was about to.
I closed the bedroom door and sauntered to the living room where Marat was casually slung across the sofa. He was rumpled, wearing silk pajama bottoms and nothing else, possibly drunk, but I did not care.
