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“You’re not putting that toy inside me.” I stare him square in the face. “You can’t force me.”
He pauses for a second as if contemplating if he should do just that, but then he speaks with a calm that takes me aback. “Let’s make a bargain, since you love those so much.”
“What type of bargain?”
“You’ll wear any toy I want you to wear in exchange for information about where the Irish are going to strike next.”
I narrow my eyes. “How would you know that?”
“I have a spy.”
“The brotherhood’s spy?”
“No, mine. A colleague of sorts.”
“Vlad has his spy, too. He will find out.”
“His spy isn’t as highly ranked as mine.”
“How highly ranked are we talking about?”
“High enough that he can rearrange things so the Irish hit exactly where the Bratva want them to. Remember your recent plan about luring in the Italians to take the fall?”
“You’re supposed to do that without resorting to bargaining with me. You’re part of the Vory now, and it’s your duty to help.”
“Not if it doesn’t benefit me.”
“I will tell Sergei.”
“And I will just deny it. Do you have evidence of my spy’s existence?”
Ugh. The infuriating asshole. He hit me on the arm that hurts the most. There’s no way I’ll let go of such a golden opportunity, and Kyle knows that more than anyone.
“What’s it going to be? My offer expires in about…three, two—”
“Fine!” I heave out. “Just get it over with.”
He grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Glad to do business with you.”
“I’m sure you are,” I mutter under my breath. He tugs on the towel, but I plant a hand on it. “You don’t need to remove it.”
“That’s up to me to decide, and I say it needs to be gone.” With a swift twist of his hand, he yanks the towel free, letting it pool around my feet. I’m standing completely naked in front of him, again.
My nipples harden, and I tell myself it’s because of the air. Just the air.
I breathe through my nostrils, then my mouth. Slowly.
In.
Out.
He won’t affect me if I don’t allow him to. All I have to do is pretend all this means nothing.
Kyle glides his fingers over my folds in what seems to be a gentle stroke, but there’s nothing remotely gentle about Kyle. He might appear like an elegant gentleman, but he’s all rough edges and power simmering under the surface, waiting to be unleashed on the world.
His fingers tease at my entrance, close enough to thrust inside, but he never gets on with it. “I thought about prepping you, but you’re already wet.”
I purse my lips together to not get caught up in the feel of his fingers near my entrance.
“Look at your cunt inviting my filthy hand in.” He smirks up at me, and now I’m sure his touch is meant to antagonize me.
“Do it, already,” I manage, barely holding the moan inside.
“Patience.” Still teasing my entrance, he slides the toy’s head over my wet folds. I stand on my tiptoes at the sensation. While it’s not entirely the same, it’s similar to what he did with his cock earlier, and now I can’t chase away the image of when he was wrenching that orgasm out of me like a relentless savage.
My nails dig into his shoulders because I feel as if I will somehow lose my balance any second.
Kyle slides the toy to my entrance where it meets his fingers, then runs it back up to my clit. I let out a whimper, and he watches me with a heated gleam that is too intimate and ferocious like a villain’s kiss.
“Aren’t you going—” My words cut off when he thrusts the head inside me in one go.
I topple over, using his shoulders for balance.
Holy. Shit.
I think I’m going to come or throw up. Or both.
“You’re too tight, aren’t you?” he muses. “If you can’t take this toy, how are you going to take my dick?”
It’s bigger than this? Sure, I felt his bulge earlier, but I never really got a close look at his cock.
The question must be written all over my face because Kyle smirks in that sadistic way. “When I get inside you, I’ll make you scream with both pleasure and pain. In the meantime, I want you to walk with this dildo inside you and imagine it’s me.”
“You can’t control my imagination.”
“I just did.” He fusses with something until the small part of the vibrator is tucked between my folds.
It’s not entirely uncomfortable, but it’s still odd, like something I’ve never imagined before, let alone wondered about trying.
“You like it, Mrs. Hunter.”
“I’m not Mrs. Hunter. I told you I won’t be changing my last name.” I’m a Sokolov and I will remain a Sokolov until the end of my days.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re already Mrs. Hunter in my head.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
