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My thighs stiffened, my teeth clenched, as she tightened around my cock, and I came with a curse. “Fuck!”
Fuck!
She trembled in my arms, quivering from the burst of her orgasm, and my legs shook. I spilled inside her and all over the table.
She pressed a wet kiss on my lips as I pulled her into my arms and her head fell onto my chest.
Our breaths, harsh, uneven, and labored, filled the silence between us. I kissed her hair and tried to ignore the tiny voice in the back of my head that whispered, “This woman might just be your undoing, Rafail.”
Chapter 15 – Juliana
I tapped my feet on the soft carpet and stared at the black dress hanging in the closet. It was the only black dress I owned. I hadn't worn a black dress since Uncle Jake and Aunt Lilianna's funeral. But Rafail had bought this black sleeveless Chanel dress with a $3,200 price tag and said, “Wear this. We have to go somewhere tonight.”
Vague.
No mention of where we were going or what type of event it was. And the sad part was, I had no other choice of clothing. Literally.
He had sent Olga to clear out the fancy clothes from the hangers, just in case I wanted to try something stupid like going against his instructions.
With a sigh, I rubbed my temple, stood on my tiptoe, and grabbed it.
I'd already gotten my hair done. Curled it and allowed it to drop below my shoulders in full waves. Then I slid on a pair of nude stilettos. With a touch of strawberry lip-gloss, mascara, and some fancy face spray I convinced Rafail to purchase for me, I was ready and out of the door.
He was waiting for me at the stairs, looking sinfully sexy and deliciously handsome in a black button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone as usual, and crisp black pants. He was like a warning sign that said, “Do Not Touch", but there were so many reasons why you should touch it.
Temptation. Attraction. Fire. Those were the first words that came to my mind as I saw him.
As I stopped on the last step, his gaze swept over me, from my head to the soles of my fancy nude shoes. He stretched out his hand.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, and the heat of his breath fanned my face and sent a shiver down my spine.
He looked simple but sharp. And I was beginning to feel a little overdressed. “Are you sure this dress is a good idea?”
His dark brows rose to his hairline. “And why wouldn't it be?”
“Just a feeling. But I swear, I'll hide in the car if everyone ends up wearing flannel shirts and jeans.”
He chuckled. I smiled. I liked it when he laughed. Most of the time, he was brooding. Like a man stuck with a black gloomy cloud over his head. He shook his head and led me past the foyer.
“No one will wear flannel shirts and jeans. That is a promise.” Then, he looked at me. His eyes were dark like the depths of the ocean and collided with mine. “Even if they were, you would remain the star in the room, krasotka.”
Crimson stained my cheeks as we made our way towards the fleet of black cars parked at the entrance. When we got into the car, I didn't expect him to pull me close and bury his head in my neck.
His tender lips pressed gently on my bare shoulders, and I held him close, raking my fingers through his soft hair. I made the most of the fact that he allowed me to touch him more.
“You smell like strawberries.” The vibrations from this throat sent ripples over my skin. “I want to taste you. Worship your body.”
It was moments like these that I forgot everything. I forgot who this man really was; Rafail Varkov, a top leader in a dangerous world, the man who kidnapped me, the man who wanted my cousin dead.
I even forgot how to breathe, and all that concerned me was the feel of his hands on my skin or the taste of his lips on mine.
His thumb tilted my chin upwards, and he held my eyes. “I love it when you blush for me.”
He pressed a chaste kiss on my lips and let me go, leaving me needy and aching to climb onto his lap and continue the kiss. But I didn’t. I still had a shred of dignity left.
“Today is our annual family day.”
I smoothened a fray on my dress and checked my hair through the rearview mirror, to distract myself from keeping my eyes wandering to his hands and mouth. “What’s the annual day?”
