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“Finger yourself for me.” I wanted her hot and slick while I devoured her breasts.
Her hand started moving underneath her dress.
“Good girl.” She didn’t know how depraved I was. Of the filthy things I wanted to do to her.
I grabbed her breasts. They filled my hands nicely, and I sucked on them, alternating between them. My teeth grazed over the hardened nipples, torturing them slowly to the point of pain. When she panted, I pulled her hand away.
“No…” She gave me an accusatory look.
I took her slick fingers and sucked on them. They tasted like her. “I’m the one who makes you come. No one else, just me.”
She stopped moving and I slapped her thigh. “Did I tell you to stop?”
I put her hands on my shoulders, then took her mouth. Our kiss was scorching, as I’d always known it would be. I slid a hand into her thong. She was sopping wet. Her flesh burned my finger as I teased her clit. I circled the tight little bud once, twice, then pinched it.
My hips snapped up, connecting my rock-hard dick with her hot cunt, with only my black trousers separating us. She mewled and then sighed, but I never let go of her sweet lips, her hot tongue.
Finally, when I felt she was getting close, I ended the kiss and put my hands on her hips. I yanked her closer as I thrust my hips up.
“Oh, God…” Her eyes were closed as she bounced on my dick, still riding the hardness. My yin to her yang.
My finger circled her wet opening, then easily slid inside her fiery core. I added another finger, stretching her.
“Keep riding my fingers,” I growled. I latched onto her nipple, sucking the tight bud into my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue.
Her panting filled the car, fogged the windows. She moved up and down, her back arching, pushing her breasts into my face. I pushed my fingers deeper inside her until her sweetness coated my knuckles. My thumb brushed over her clit and she went off like a firecracker.
Her thighs shook, and then she dropped onto my lap, sucking my fingers even deeper inside of her. My dick was pounding against my zipper, demanding to be free.
Katya was draped over me with her breasts out and her pussy on display. I wanted to kiss and lick her all over. I wanted to bury myself in her hot, little virginal body. My demons urged me to do it. To take her, to ride her tight pussy until she screamed in ecstasy. I imagined turning her onto her stomach, spanking her ass until it turned pink, then entering her from behind while torturing her clit until she came again. These scenarios washed through my brain, but I shook them off. She was a distraction I couldn’t use, a complication that could thwart all my carefully constructed plans. Except my dick didn’t listen to reason. It wanted inside her. My hand went to my fly.
Then she hiccuped. It was the cutest sound, barely audible, but to me, it was like a gunshot that woke me.
I blinked. What the fuck was I doing? There would come a day she would hate me for this. She’d hate me even more if I fucked her. I wasn’t some damn noble prince like in her fairy tales. I was the evil sorcerer. If I had her, tasted her, she would be mine. I never let go of what was mine. I would keep her, whether or not she begged me to release her. She didn’t get this yet, but I was doing her a favor.
“Cover yourself,” I said, pushing a hint of steel in my voice.
She frowned, still looking dazed.
“You had what you wanted,” I continued, dousing my blood with ice. “I gave you an orgasm, didn’t I? Since you never had a prom night, and this is your first actual night out. It was the least I could do.” When she didn’t move off my lap, I added one final nail to my own coffin. “I did my job. Now it’s your turn. Don’t seek me out again. You and I will never happen.”
A flash of hurt passed over her face. She shimmied back to her seat, covered herself up, and got out of the car.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but not this stony silence. I followed her, and she gave me a sad smile. Her eyes pierced through my skin like razor blades. I remembered Sokolov’s right-hand man cutting me. That hadn’t nearly hurt this badly.
She almost stumbled as she headed the wrong way, toward the garage’s basement instead of back to the house.
I quickly rerouted her. She wasn’t supposed to go there, ever. That place housed horrors I never wanted her to see. My words hurt her, but seeing what I was truly capable of would kill her love for me. And even though I could never give her what she wanted, I couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing the real me, either.
17
KATYA
If I’d learned one thing in the past few weeks, it was that Kristoff Romanov wasn’t nearly as indifferent to me as he feigned to be. Or as he undeniably wanted to be, judging by his harsh rejection during my first night out. His blunt words had been like a slap in the face.
In the few weeks after that night, Kristoff pretended as if our make-out session had never happened. I was done with it. Done with getting whiplash from him. In fact, I had a date tonight. My first one ever. Because talk was cheap. I needed to act and show myself and everyone else that I was getting over Kristoff. And who better than to assist me with that than Tommie? So I’d invited him over for a lunch date.
I was just coming down the stairs when the doorbell rang. Olga let Tommie in. He came in fanning himself. When I saw where his attention was, I grimaced.
