Page 57 of Beguiled

CHAPTER 13

Saige

As Stash pulled me into his arms, the breathlessness from the beautiful round of pleasure controlled both my body and my mind.

He was so strong, so muscular yet he’d been so tender. Something I hadn’t expected. Now, as he held me against his body, jutting his hips forward in such a way there was no mistaking what he wanted, I found myself fighting for enough air to fill my lungs.

Everything the man did was purposeful. Calculated.

Nothing by accident or chance.

Even the way he was holding me in his arms was a prerequisite, his requirement to continue letting go. Whether just physically or not, he was only allowing me into the safest part of the world he’d mentioned several times.

In a way, he was suggesting we lived on two different planets, his a state of being where the rules were entirely different and decency didn’t apply. Was I being a little overly dramatic? Possibly, but with the time I’d spent with him tonight and with what had transpired, I felt qualified.

He was testing me. My resolve. My will. My desire to surrender.

And the very loyalty he’d mentioned.

Why should I be loyal to a criminal capable of murder? I didn’t know, but I was toying with insanity in making him a more formal business proposition. Those who believed I was a sweet and innocent girl might ask what the hell I was considering. Or what was wrong with me.

Did I really need to remind myself I was a good girl at heart, born and raised a devout Protestant who would never think of condoning or accepting evil deeds let alone participating in them?

The much larger and more powerful question was why I’d allowed him into my apartment and more important, my bed. A question that wouldn’t be answered tonight. I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, just enough movement he narrowed his eyes.

As he rolled his hands down both my arms, I forced myself to maintain eye contact. There were no words spoken as there was no need. We both knew he was in complete control over me.

He was also Bratva royalty.

With his actions remaining tender, he guided me toward the dresser, slowly turning me to face the mirror. Then he gathered my long hair in both his hands, pulling the strands over myshoulders, taking the time to brush the long locks with his fingers. The gentle activity was somehow both relaxing and unnerving at the same time.

In a way, he’d always had the same effect on me, although my previous nerves had been more of an irritation than drawing conclusions from raw fear.

In this case, fear of the unknown.

He dropped his head, his wet lips connecting with the skin on my neck. Every time he did something so romantic, I shuddered in response. The ache in my pussy was deepening, the tingling effects of the thick vibrator lingering. He’d enjoyed torturing me with the toy. I’d seen his cool smirk when rolling the tip across my clit.

Even now, there remained a slight set of vibrations skittering down my body to my toes. He dragged his tongue down the length of my neck, nuzzling his face against my skin before raking his teeth along my shoulder blade. For a rough and tumble man, the move was highly passionate, so intimate that I involuntarily closed my eyes.

A quick pop on my buttocks was easy to read. He’d pulled me in front of the mirror for a reason. So I’d watch everything he was doing. To me. With me.

Because of me.

As he twisted my hair into a makeshift braid in his hand, I remained breathless and startled at how alive I felt. He had a way of electrifying every molecule of air around us. After biting my shoulder, he backed away very slowly, step by step while unfastening his belt. He knew I’d watch his every move.

“Iskusheniye, pered kotorym ya ne mogu ustoyat’.”

His voice was smoke and honey, his Russian accent dripping with an even more sensual tone. “What did you say?”

“A temptation I cannot resist.”

I didn’t need to ask him why the statement was packaged in whispered lust. We both knew the reason. He didn’t blink, his movements enough to fulfill his actions and nothing more.

He was a god’s favorite model, carved to perfection. With my fingers pressed against my lips, I avoided the awkward sound indicating my pleased surprise. Never had I envisioned him this perfect.

As he approached, I gripped the edge of the dresser. He was oppressive in all things, in every action, but right now I felt entirely too vulnerable.

My mind provided one last ditch effort to shun his advance, but my body’s treachery won out in the end. Whether it was his scent or his actions I wasn’t certain, but as I gathered a whiff of gunpowder and spice, sandalwood and citrus along with more than a hint of sex, I was thoroughly lightheaded.