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I’m swamped in so much heat by the time he finishes, I have to talk myself down from another orgasm. Right there in the passenger seat, without even being touched. My inner thighs spasm and I can’t seem to draw enough breath, my hips squirming on the leather. Sasha is overwhelming me and I’m already starting to forget why I’m mad at him. He’s bringing me where I belong, and I trust Sasha. Implicitly. What if I just forgot my anger, my outrage, and let him take care of me, as he’s always done?
Because that’s my job. My dream has been to become an independent woman who calls her own shots, and no matter what happens, no matter how much Sasha threatens to drown my objections with love and lust, I have to keep my eye on the prize.
Which means…I have to get away from the man I love.
Chapter Six
Sasha
I’ve had my fair share of arguments with the angel.
She has been a teenage girl for our entire acquaintance, so this did not come as a surprise. When one of her younger tutors invited Anya to a party, Anya didn’t bother asking me if she could go, obviously knowing I would object. She merely attempted to sneak out, tiptoeing right past where I sat waiting in the driveway, drinking a cup of coffee. Her reaction was not pleasant. Especially when I enumerated the kind of trouble waiting for a fifteen – year – old girl at a house party. I came dangerously close to explaining what I would have done, in my former life, if I came across her at a party. And I wasn’t handcuffed by my vow.
She would have been flat on her back before she could blink, my dick so deep she would feel it in her little throat.
My thirst for Anya is unmatched. Before the day I saw her looking so sad on the front porch, I’d spent my life providing for and protecting my family. Moving up through the ranks of the Mafiya. There was no time for women, and I didn’t give a shit. Yet the moment Anya turned her green eyes on me, I was consumed. Obsessed. Never before had a female of any age even turned my head, but this one. She’d called to the deepest part of my soul. Life stopped being a burden and became something that would be spent making her happy.
Making her mine.
“Are we almost there?”
My cock grows thick hearing her voice for the first time in an hour. “Da,” I rasp. “Very close.”
She sits up straighter and scans the lush greenery we’re passing. There’s a definite curiosity in her expression, but not quite enough to overtake the stubbornness.
“You have been thinking very hard over there.”
“Yes, I have.”
Her arms are back to being crossed, and I sigh. “Would you like to share?”
“Yes, I would.” My patience thins rapidly, waiting for her to continue, but she finally does. “In the library, you said…you’ve been wanting to touch me for a long time.”
Fuck. My blood pumps fast and hot at having my hunger for her out in the open. “I’ve been a slavering beast in a cage, angel. Is not quite the same thing.”
“R – right.” Her posture loses some of its rigidness, and she begins talking in a rush. “Well, I was thinking about how you take off every Sunday night and you don’t come home until Monday afternoon.”
Seeing where this conversation is headed, my lips jump at one end. “What about it, angel?”
“You’re a man, Sasha. And you might think I’m totally innocent — ”
“I don’t think,” I interrupt, unable to keep the steel out of my voice. “I knew you were innocent already, but now that I’ve had my finger buried in your extra – tight pussy, there’s no question.”
“Fine,” she returns, her cheeks pink. “But I’m smart enough to know men need…sex. So if you weren’t touching me, who were you touching?”
I glance over to find sweet little Anya looking fierce as hell. I’ve been keeping close track of the clock, and we’re only one hour from the end of my contract. But this display of jealousy is going to make the next sixty minutes feel like a fucking eternity. Because her Russian temperament would make her feisty and giving when in the green monster’s grip. However, I will never know this for sure, because I will not give her a single second to feel jealous for the rest of her life. “I have touched no one since we met, Anya. Only myself, while thinking of you. Is that clear?”
Her anger seeps from her in degrees. “Yes.”
“Good. On Sunday evenings, I make this very drive, to check the progress of our home.”
“Our — ”
I am privileged to witness the moment she spies the house. There is no need to point it out to her, because she recognizes it. “Sasha…” she whispers, her hands flying to her chest. “That’s…is that…?”
