"Harder," she pants, so I give her what she asks for.
I pull out to the tip and drive back in hard enough that her body slides forward and she has to brace her hands against theheadboard. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, and I set a pace that makes her gasp every time I bottom out.
"Oh, fuck." Her nails scrape against the headboard. "Don't stop, don't?—"
She drops from her forearms to her chest, her cheek pressed flat against the sheets, and the new angle changes everything. She whimpers and yelps, and I can feel her tightening around me again, clenching down. It only heightens the pleasure for me.
"That's it." I lean forward and press my chest against her back and wrap one arm around her waist and put my mouth against her ear. "One more for me."
She shakes her head, but her body is already doing it, even before I slide my hand down and press my fingers against her where we're joined. Her whole body shudders and convulses. I feel every hot contraction while her pussy milks me, and the feeling of her pulsing around me pulls me over the edge.
I bury myself as deep as I can go and hold there while it tears through me from the base of my spine to the back of my skull, and my forehead drops against her shoulder. My teeth find her flesh and bite down, and she heaves out a few heavy breaths while her muscles continue rhythmically squeezing me.
"Oh, my God," Mila breathes, making her hair puff out away from her face.
I pull back, not wanting to crush her, and slide out of her, my dick slapping up against my belly as I roll off and pull her against my body. She's stiff at first until I push her mop of hair out of her face. Then I see confusion scrawled across her forehead in deep furrows.
"What are you doing?"
"Shh," I whisper as I place a kiss on her forehead. "Lie with me."
"This wasn't a part of the deal, Roman."
When she protests again, I cover her lips with mine and steal a kiss, then whisper, "Stay."
It takes her a few seconds to relax, and when she does, I fight the covers and pull them up over our bodies.
What a pleasant surprise to have her visit my bedroom tonight, and better yet that she is eager to please me. I have a bit of a mess to deal with concerning Vera, but I think I'm making my intentions to Mila very clear. She's the one I want, not Sofi and certainly not her stepmother. And if she can't see that I'm actively pursuing her, then I'll have to be more direct.
But tonight, having her in my bed is a good step. Soon, she'll be here every night.
15
MILA
Radimir pulls the car to the curb, and I don't recognize the street at first because we've come from the east side and the angle is wrong. But when I lean forward and look through the windshield at the gold lettering on the awning, my stomach drops and I press my back into the seat. This dinner with Roman was supposed to be to talk about strategy to deal with Vera, and he's brought me to my own family restaurant?
"No," I grumble. This is not happening. I won't play whatever sick game he thinks he's playing with me.
Roman adjusts the cuff of his shirt beneath his jacket sleeve and he doesn't look up. "No, what?"
"Volna is my family's restaurant." I turn to him, and he's still focused on his cuff, pulling the fabric until it sits exactly where he wants it. "I can't go in there with you."
"You can and you will."
"Roman, if anyone in my family sees me walking in on your arm?—"
"You're not on my arm. You're my assistant." He finishes with his cuff and leans back and looks at me with his face calm and his eyes narrowed. "You belong to me for the next ten years, Mila. That was the agreement. You don't get to refuse."
"This isn't fair. What are you trying to prove?" My lip is trembling and I can't stop it. I don't want anyone in my family thinking I've gone to him for help. No one in my family knows about the marriage clause in the trust. If my father's men start seeing me with Roman, they will assume I am courting power. They'll resist even more. Things could get worse.
"Get out of the car, Mila, and do as you're told, or I will make you." It's infuriating how calm he is when he says those words. I grit my teeth and fist my hands, knowing there's nothing I can do. Not only will he humiliate me by making a fool of me and a spectacle, but it'll look like I’m a spoiled child who isn’t getting her way if I resist. And while at times I feel like throwing a tantrum and my emotions can be out of control, I at least have enough sense to not make myself an easy target.
So I get out of the car behind Roman, and Yegor pulls away from the curb and the car disappears down the street. Roman stands beside me, buttoning his jacket with one hand as the other rides the small of my back as he guides me toward the front door. I'm livid, cheeks burning with anger I can't express, but when we walk in, I force a smile because I have to in order to avoid earning unwanted attention.
The hostess sees him first and she straightens. "Mr. Kuzin, I have your table ready for you. Your party is waiting."
"Thank you," he offers and guides me to follow her. I keep my eyes forward and try not to look at the other tables, at the faces that might recognize me. Some of these waiters used to bring mebread and butter when my father would bring me here as a child. Roman can't even fathom the problems he's instigating with this stunt.
