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She gasps when my fingers breach her wet slit, sliding with ease into her soft pussy. My fingertips graze her clit as I pull them out, my teeth slamming down on my lower lip.
The temptation to flip her around and drive my dick into her overwhelms me to the point where I can barely breathe.
Fuck, I brought this on myself.
I should have told Dima that there was no way I was gonna snatch Natasha from her home. I should have told him no when he ordered me to follow the sexy musician. I should have ignored my growing obsession with her. I should have disregarded my twisted fantasies about what she could do with those magical fingers, ones I’d seen her use in the most suggestive of ways while on stage strumming her guitar.
But I did none of those things. And for all the hate that surges through me, I’m equally flooded by an insatiable desire to take her and make her mine. That would be the greatest punishment of all, not only for her father, but for Dima.
Fuck you both.
I’m claiming the prize.
Natasha’s chest heaves as she leans into me, her breathing a bit more settled.
I swallow hard, not wanting to release her but knowing if I don’t, I’ll bring a whole world of shit onto myself.
Because the idea of holding her captive is a lot hotter than the reality would be.
I grit my teeth, pulling away from her. Turning on my heel, I sweep a hand through my hair and stalk into the kitchen. I hear her scramble for her shorts then pull them on. When I turn to face her, her cheeks are flushed and pink, her eyes sparking with white-hot flames meant to incinerate.
And they do.
Just not in the way she intends.
“You’re crazy,” she seethes, her fists clenched at her sides.
“You have no idea,” I reply, opening a bottle of vodka, then taking a long gulp. I don’t even pour it into a glass.
It’s been one of those kinds of nights.
I hold it out to her, and she grimaces.
“Oh, so now we’re drinking buddies, Dima?” she snaps. “After you just brutalized me like I’m a fucking side of beef?”
“Don’t call me that,” I say darkly before taking another long sip. “And you loved the way my hand felt against your ass. You loved every second of it.” I slam the bottle on the counter and walk back toward her. “You know how I know that? Because your pussy was soaked. So fucking wet for me.” I grin. “You can’t deny it. That pussy is quivering right now, isn’t it? Because my hand wasn’t enough, and now it wants my cock.”
Her eyes pop open wide, and she backs away.
“You’re not going anywhere. You know what’ll happen if you try to run.”
“What? You’re gonna strip me down again?”
“Oh, definitely. But the punishment won’t be limited to you. Remember who’s still tied up at your father’s house?”
A notification on my phone pings, and I press a few numbers into the screen, swallowing a groan.
The front door unlocks, and a second later, it opens to reveal the Devil incarnate hovering in the doorway.
He takes a long look at Natasha, and I roll my eyes, guzzling another mouthful of vodka.
Natasha’s mouth falls open, and she looks between us, her look of confusion landing on me. “Who the fuck is he?”
My hand tightens around the neck of the bottle as my eyes tangle with her tormented ones. “Your future husband.”
