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And he does. He’s still kissing me as sparks light my vision, the pleasure blinding in its intensity. The climax roars through me, awakening every nerve ending in my body, making me convulse against him with a gasping cry. Only he doesn’t stop this time, doesn’t remove his hand from between my legs or lift his head to let me catch my breath. Instead, he presses the heel of his palm against my swollen flesh, intensifying the aftershocks, and kisses me so hard I taste blood again.
The twin sensations—pain and pleasure—are so potent I almost miss the hard push of his finger into me and the accompanying slight burn. Almost but not quite. Instinctively, I tense, and the burn intensifies, as does an unfamiliar feeling of being stretched and penetrated. My breath catches in my throat, and I grip his shoulders as a spear of rational thinking pierces the sensual fog in my brain.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I shouldn’t be here, with him.
Alexei must feel me stiffen because he raises his head to stare down at me, onyx eyes filled with dark hunger. “You’re so small, even for a virgin,” he whispers roughly, and the hot blush washes over me again, making the very roots of my hair feel like they’re on fire. His finger is still inside me, penetrating me, but it no longer hurts, though it still feels invasive. Worse yet, I can feel myself getting even wetter, and I know he can feel it too.
“Don’t fight it, Alinyonok. Let me in.” His eyes burn into mine as his thumb circles my clit at the same time as the stinging stretch returns. He’s probing at my entrance with a second finger, I comprehend vaguely as a wave of dizziness sweeps over me, along with the realization that I’ve stopped breathing.
Tell him to stop. Now. Before it’s too late.
Except I can’t form the words fast enough. He kisses me again, stealing what little oxygen remains in my lungs, and I melt against him despite the growing discomfort between my legs. Two fingers are way too much, the stinging stretch threatening to turn into real pain, but his thumb is still doing that circling thing, and there’s just enough pleasure to confuse my senses and muddle my thoughts. I’m lost in him, utterly absorbed in the sensations he’s evoking in my body, and even the sharp pinch of pain as he pushes his fingers deeper into me isn’t enough to make me pull away—especially since he curls those fingers, pressing on a spot that brings back that sweet, agonizing tension, sending me barreling toward another peak.
With a muffled cry against his lips, I come, the second orgasm exploding through me. My inner muscles clamp down on his invading fingers, causing another pinch of pain, along with a series of aftershocks. My body is still spasming weakly when he pulls his fingers out, and I hear the metallic hiss of a zipper being lowered before my thong is ripped away with a sharp tug. Dazed, I open my eyes as he stops kissing me and lifts his head.
He’s breathing hard and his jaw is tightly clenched, his sharp cheekbones spotted with color as he raises his hand to look at it. His fingers are colored red—the same fingers that were just inside me. Red with my blood, I realize with growing alarm as he drops his hand and meets my gaze, his eyes coal-black and filled with terrifying possessiveness. “Fucking mine,” he breathes roughly. “All mine.”
And before I can respond, he’s kissing me again. Kissing me and lifting me up the wall by hooking his hands under my thighs and opening them wide. His suit pants rub against my bare inner thighs as he presses his lower body against mine, and something big, smooth, and hard prods between my folds, pushing a few millimeters into my sore, swollen opening. His cock, I realize with a jolt. It’s way too big, much bigger than his fingers, but pinned against the wall as I am, there’s nothing I can do to stop the penetration, to slow it down. Panic surges through me, along with the full understanding of what’s happening, and I manage to turn my head, tearing my lips away from his devouring kiss as I push on his shoulders. “Alexei, please.” My voice shakes. “Please, st—”
With a squeak of hinges, the door opens, and Alexei stiffens as Vankov steps into the room. Assessing the situation in a flash, my bodyguard draws his gun with lightning speed and points it at Alexei.
“Step back from Alina Vladimirovna. Now!”
A low growl of frustration vibrates in Alexei’s chest, and murder glitters in his eyes as he returns his gaze to my face, not moving an inch. “Order him to leave,” he says through clenched teeth. “Tell him this is what you want, and that he should go.”
But I don’t want this. I can’t, not with the panic tightening my throat. I know exactly what Vankov is seeing—me pinned against the wall like some cheap whore in an alley, with my dress hiked up and Alexei between my parted legs—and horrified embarrassment extinguishes all remnants of desire. All I feel now is the soreness deep inside, where Alexei broke my hymen with his fingers, and the enormous pressure of his cock pushing against my entrance, threating to tear me apart. The pain is not what scares me, though. It’s everything else.
It’s knowing that once we do this, there’s no going back… that we might’ve already reached the point of no return.
“Let me go.” My ragged whisper is meant only for Alexei’s ears. “Please, let me go.”
A muscle flexes violently in his jaw as he stares down at me. “Or what? You’ll have him shoot me?”
“Step back from her! Now!” Vankov’s tone is sharper, more agitated. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my other two bodyguards appear behind him, and I want to die on the spot.
My face must reflect my thoughts because Alexei’s features tighten further, and without another word, he lowers me to my feet and zips himself up in one quick, furious motion. He doesn’t step back, however. Instead, he props one hand on the wall and leans over me. Lifting his other hand, he presses his bloodied fingertips to my lips, imprinting them with red as he says in a low, hard voice, “I will send a car for you tomorrow night. You will come. If you don’t, you will regret it.”
With that, he pushes off the wall and strides past my bodyguards to disappear into the hallway.
* * *
The copper tasteis still on my lips as I get into my limo, and I can feel the soreness of my broken hymen deep inside. I have no idea what to do, especially in light of Alexei’s invitation/threat. What did he mean, I will regret it? What I regret right now is going to Natasha’s event and everything that followed. It’s like I temporarily went insane.
Obviously, I have no intention of getting into any car he sends. My insanity doesn’t extend that far. But what will he do when I don’t show? Maybe I should tell my brothers what happened, warn them just in case. But no. If they knew that Alexei nearly fucked me in a coat closet and is now threatening me, they’d have no choice but to go after him, and that would be the worst timing ever.
Tomorrow morning, Nikolai is leaving Moscow for the foreseeable future. He’s flying to America to prepare his new Idaho compound for Slava’s arrival in three weeks’ time. If my stupidity were to screw that up, I’d never forgive myself.
I catch Vankov’s eyes in the rearview mirror before leveling a hard look at the other two guards. “If so much as a word about this incident gets out—and especially if it gets back to my brothers—all three of you will be fired on the spot. Understand?”
All three of them nod, their faces impassive. They know it’s not an idle threat. They’re on my payroll, have been ever since I received my inheritance a few months after my parents’ deaths. My brothers objected at first, claiming it was their duty to protect me, but I stood my ground. What did it matter to them, I argued, as long as I had proper security detail? So they gave in, however reluctantly, and I’ve been my bodyguards’ official employer ever since, ensuring that they’re loyal to me first and foremost.
Appeased, I lean back against the seat and focus on taking deep breaths to calm the frantic racing of my heart and ease the tension squeezing my temples. I need to figure out what to do, how to fix this mess I’ve created, and I can’t do that if I’m curled up in bed with another debilitating headache. I’ve been doing so much better in recent months, have felt so much stronger, yet here I am, about to unravel again.
No, fuck that. I’m not letting it happen. Clearly, Alexei is my kryptonite, in more ways than one, so there’s only one rational solution.
I have to take myself out of his orbit, get as far away from him as I can. Maybe I can go to Switzerland for a proper ski trip, or join Natasha on her upcoming vacation in Thailand. Then again, what if Alexei follows me there to do whatever it is he’s threatening? It’s not like he doesn’t have a private jet and an army of thugs to do his bidding. If anything, I’d be making it easier for him to steal me or whatever he intends. What I need is to completely fall off his radar for a time, so he’ll forget about what happened tonight and—
