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Squeezing my hand, he smiled a tight smile, which let me know he was probably still in pain. I had to keep an eye on him tonight.
He walked with me to the bedroom where one of the most beautiful dresses I had ever seen was laid out on the bed. Long, shimmering black.
“You’re going to enchant everyone tonight, wearing this dress. Especially me. But you need to look your part,” he whispered behind me, and a frisson of desire swept through me. It was so nice to feel his hot breath on my skin. He wanted me, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. Something had shifted between us, and then I felt the scent of his custom cologne, as well as the undeniable press of his erection against my lower back. I relaxed against him, leaning into him while I struggled to get enough air into my lungs.
I shut my eyes for a moment and when I turned around, Sebastian was walking away.
I ran my hand over the soft material of the dress and put it on. I was both nervous and excited about this evening for many reasons. The garment fit me perfectly. I didn’t even know how Sebastian had managed to pick up my exact size and style—probably from the same woman who’d given me my starter wardrobe: Karla. She’d have had my measurements. Normally I had a hard time finding things because I was so slim in certain places, but not in the others.
I proceeded to do my hair and makeup, and an hour later, I stepped into the living room. His back to me, he was wearing a black suit. So sexy.
I squeezed my thighs together, wondering if my first time with him was going to hurt because I wanted nobody else to touch my body that way.
But Sebastian had a brutal side and he had proven this to me on more than one occasion, but that wasn’t everything about him. He trusted me more now since I’d been loyal, so at least maybe he’d treat me more gently.
However, I was apprehensive about me letting him take my virginity.
“Fuck, princess, you look stunning and now I want to lock you in here forever, then fuck you all night long.” He drank me in with a greedy gaze and I felt flushed as usual when he looked at me that way. Sebastian gave a loud sigh as though having trouble with his self-control.
“I hope you won’t. I don’t like being stuck in my room like a prisoner,” I told him. “And why would you do that anyway?”
“Because I know once my brother lays his eyes on you, he will think you’re fuckable. And even the thought of him staring at you that way makes my blood fucking boil. I want to cut off his dick and then feed it to one of his bitches.”
I tried not to laugh, but it was more a nervous laugh because that kind of statement didn’t really amuse me.
“We are ready, boss,” Pedro said, opening the door after a couple of knocks.
Sebastian nodded at him and the man shut the door again.
“Come on, Marinka,” he said, then leaned into my ear, whispering, “You look so fuckable in this dress and I’m not sure how I’m going to keep my hands off you. You have no idea how much I want to ruin your tight pussy.”
“Then why don’t you?” I challenged boldly when he moved past me.
He stopped in his tracks and I inhaled sharply.
“Because I’m into dark shit, kinky shit, and I don’t think you’re ready for this fucked up world. I’m not ready to break you just yet,” he explained before walking to the door.
I didn’t even know I was shaking when I finally sat in the back seat of the car.
His words rang in my head. How was I supposed to respond to that? Sebastian was sitting in the passenger seat with Pedro, so I could at least take my time steadying my breathing and racing heart.
I really needed to tell him I was totally inexperienced and never truly had sex. But how? When?
God, this was so embarrassing.
We drove for about half an hour, going through the city first. Then, the car stopped in front of a large mansion in one of the suburbs of Chicago.
Sebastian exited the car and opened the door for me. When I met his gaze, a smile appeared on his handsome face.
“It’s show time, princess.”
26
Marinka
It wasa large mansion illuminated by sparkling lights, tedious decorations, some beautiful antiques and equally beautiful people, all of Eastern European ancestry. I could tell straight away that I was walking into the mafia world. Ordinary people didn’t live like this.
“Sebastian, it’s so good to see you … oh, Russina, you look absolutely breathtaking,” a woman in a sparkly silver dress greeted us. She was older, possibly in her late forties, and the muscles on her face barely moved. I hazarded a guess she’d had quite a few plastic surgeries.
