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His skin is slick with sweat, his heady musk swirling around my head. It consumes my senses and makes me dizzy with need.
He fists my hair, tugging my head backward, away from his chest. His gaze is dark with lust, his expression pinched with conflict.
“Don’t mistake this for something it’s not,” he growls. “Your father is the reason why you’re here. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”
“You’re a liar,” I whisper. With a hammering pulse, I lick the palm of my hand and close it around his thick cock. I massage him with long, hard strokes. His jaw tenses but he doesn’t stop me. He doesn’t push me away.
Because he does want me. And I know it as well as he does.
“You say these things but you don’t mean them. Stop trying to convince yourself that you don’t give a damn when we both know you do.”
“Shut the fuck up.” His lips almost graze mine, the fire in his heated gaze scorching my tingling skin.
“I will not.” I drag my hand up and down his length faster, his cock throbbing between my fingers. A groan slips from his lips in response. “And if you can’t say the words, then show me how you really feel. Make me feel it, too, Luka.”
He wraps his arms around me, and I melt into him despite the bullshit protests that have dissipated in the heady, sex-tinged air around us.
I drag my fingernails down the slope of his back with one hand, the cuts of muscles tensing underneath my fingertips. After shoving his shorts to the floor, I rub his rock-hard cock against my pussy lips. My slick juices coat the tip as I grind my hips against it.
But Luka isn’t the type who likes to be teased. Without warning, he thrusts into me with a low roar, and I yelp from the burning sensation that results from his massive length tearing through me.
He lifts me into his arms, driving his cock deep inside of me. Each thrust, each swivel of his hips, slams me harder into the wall. Framed pictures hanging on either side crash to the floor from the force of his body plundering me.
Glass shatters around his bare feet, but he doesn’t notice. Nothing slows his movements. He fucks me with longing, with insatiable passion that make my toes curl, yet one more instance of my body completely betraying me.
For all that this man has done to me and my family, for the beast he is down deep, I’ve fallen in love with him. And that scares the hell out of me. He scares the hell out of me because maybe he really doesn’t want me the way I want him.
Maybe there is just too much hatred in his heart to accept what I represent.
What if that’s why he can’t say the words he knows I don’t want to hear?
There’s also the possibility that he’s right, and my father is involved in some elaborate takedown.
In that case, he’ll kill me. The man I love will put a bullet in my brain.
Because that’s what you do when you’re the boss. You make the hard decisions. You choose the family.
God knows Dima would have done the same if push came to shove. Why should I expect anything different of Luka? I’m a means to an end for him. That’s all. Revenge, orgasms. Nothing more.
How much longer can I fight against this?
His lips crash against mine, his tongue plunging into the depths of my mouth, infusing my entire being with yearning. The coiling heat silences the voices plaguing my mind for a few fleeting seconds. And I realize I’ve already lost the battle. I want it all, but I know I can never have it.
I clench him tight against me as my body is assaulted by a tingling sensation that consumes every inch of me. I claw at his back while my body writhes against him during those final thrusts until we collapse against each other, sated.
For the moment, anyway.
I drop my head onto his shoulder, exhausted and panting for breath. He carries me over to his bed, lying me on the mattress before dropping next to me. And before I can even move, he flings an arm over my chest and snakes a leg around mine, effectively preventing me from escaping his embrace.
As if I would ever in a million years even consider crawling away from this man.
Way to be strong, Natasha.
Way to show him that you’re completely full of crap.
He rests his head on my chest and hooks his arm under me. The stubble of his beard against my breasts makes me giggle softly. I bask in the warmth of his lips as they navigate a trail of soft kisses along my collarbone.
It’s sweet and tender…
And nothing like he’s ever done to me before.
Wait…
Could it be that he might actually have feelings for me, too? Like, real ones that don’t involve spankings or whatever other kinky shit he wants to inflict on me?
I swallow hard. I should just say it, right? Just open my mouth and tell him the truth about–
And then, just as suddenly as his lips caressed my skin, he pulls his arm away and slides away from me until he’s seated on the edge of the bed. I flip over, watching him hunch over with his head in one hand and a white envelope in the other.
“Fuck, I won’t,” he mutters. “I can’t.”
