Page 92 of Beguiled

“Not until I tell you.” I continued stroking my cock, twisting my shaft until I was feeling the same agony she was, only in an entirely different way.

Her moans were even more strangled and her look of defiance was more well defined. “Yes, sir.”

She took several deep, gasping breaths as if trying to hold it together.

“That’s it,” I managed. “Fuck that sweet pussy. My pussy.”

“Yes, sir.” She thrust harder, faster, even flexing her fingers open without me telling her.

“Say it. Tell me I own your pussy.”

With her chest rising and falling, she licked her lips. “You own this pussy.”

“Good girl.”

“Please let me come.” She undulated her hips, panting as she pleaded with me.

“Not yet.”

“I can’t.” She pinched and plucked one nipple then the other, leaving them red and rosy, much like the marks I’d left on her bottom.

How I longed to mark her with my brand, piercing her nipples and clit. The thought dug deep within my psyche, the need bordering on insane.

My abdominal muscles were tight, constricted as I fought every urge. Watching her. Enjoying the filthy moment.

“Does it hurt? The wait? The need?” My entire body felt the same.

“Yes! It’s not fair. Sir.”

“How quickly you forget I own you. Every inch.”

I was the one who couldn’t take it any longer.

“Please,” she moaned once again and I knew I’d had enough of the sweet temptation. “Come for me,chastnaya tantsovshchitsa.”

With relief flooding her face, she did as I commanded, tossing her face toward the ceiling as her body shuddered violently. She was absolutely stunning when she climaxed and for a few seconds, I was simply in awe.

She wasn’t gentle with her actions, thrusting all four fingers inside while she bucked against her own hand. I’d be damned if I couldn’t get lost in watching her do this every morning. What a vile man I’d become.

When she slowly came down from the raw taste of ecstasy, I pulled her hand free, lifting her arm until I was able to lick her fingers.

A warm blush covered her cheeks while I sucked on one finger then another, taking my time to clean every drop of her delicious juice from them.

“You are so…” She didn’t finish her statement, biting her lip instead.

I’d come to realize that with her, everything was a mixture of admiration and arousal. She wasn’t interested in backing down, yet was eager to please in a way that had nothing to do with business. The dichotomy of her personality was such that I couldn’t get enough.

Of her banter or her body.

At least for now the time for having a conversation was over.

As I turned my chair toward the desk, I pulled her with me, easing her butt onto the edge. Her eyes still held a dreamy appearance, her inability to focus creating a different desire. To protect her.

The instinct to do so rose from deep within, an innate feeling that even keeping her on my payroll was dangerous. I’d stopped being so protective with anyone, including my mother. She’d accepted her new life as my father’s second wife when she’d told me all those years ago how much she’d hated him.

She’d even made it sound like my father had died instead of wanting anything to do with his own flesh and blood.

While Vladimir hadn’t lied about his identity, he had about being single when he’d had an entire family in another city. The full betrayal had come before learning she was pregnant. She’d managed to hide the condition and my birth from him for two full decades. Russia was a very large country and he’d acquired the helm of the Chertov Bratva when his father had retired, a man who was currently languishing in a retirement home while my father lay in a grave that I never visited.