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Standingin front of the mirror, I run my hand over my dress. It’s fit for a funeral. The black sheath crepe dress’s hem grazes a few inches below my knees. Although it clings to my hips and breasts, it only hints I have a waist. There are even three-quarter sleeves covering my elbows. I decide to go with stockings—a suggestion from Lydia. I’ve never loved tights, preferring leggings.
My hair is done, falling straight down past my shoulders. I’d used the curling brush then the flat iron, hoping like hell I didn’t completely fry it, promising myself a hair mask either tonight or tomorrow before the party.
A text comes through from Milos. The dinner isn’t at home after all, it’s moved to his restaurant. Mother is already in the city. She had spent the day with his youngest brother and his fiancée. Milos will be arriving in a few minutes to bring me into the city. I sigh—something happened.
Why did he feel the need to come all the way out here to get me, only to turn around and leave again? I respond simply “okay” and focus on suppressing every instinct to fight Milos over the coming days. I’m not going to add to his stress, no matter what it takes.
I’m trying to pick which shoes to wear, velvet ballet flats or leather—Milos calls my name.
“In my closet,” I answer.
Suddenly he’s there in the doorway. Something is very wrong. Darkness and violence flows from him in waves. “I wanted to ensure what you wore is acceptable.”
The smoke in his voice burns me from ten feet away. I hate the way my hand trembles as I run a hand down my stomach, trying to calm the twisting there. “Is it okay?”
Glowing yellow eyes run down me, leaving fire where they touch. “Turn around.”
I bite my lip to keep from arguing—the idea of turning my back on him feels dangerous. Closing my eyes, I turn. In seconds, he’s covered the distance between us. Those waves are churning, pulling me under.
A finger runs down my spine, before pressing into the crack of my ass. His breath runs over my neck. “Okay? No, you don’t lookokay. You look fuckingdelicious. I’m not going to be able to wait until tonight.”
Despite his words and how hard his cock is against my ass, something in his touch is wrong. I don’t have time to process it before a large hand presses me down over the top of the island in the closet. His other hand is tugging my dress up, grabbing a cheek and squeezing hard.
His groan fills the room. “Fucking hell, stockings. What a good girl you are for me,malyshka.”
If I’m a good girl, why does he draw the sheer fabric up the crack of my ass then slap my ass hard? And why the hell do I love it so much? Once, twice, four smacks to each cheek leave my core clenched tight, soaking my panties.
“I love your round ass, perfectly plump and ripe for my cock,” he whispers against the skin of a flaming hot ass cheek.
Milos presses his lips firmly to the center of an ass cheek in a kiss, then opens his mouth and bites me hard. Oh god, I moan so loud it startles me as it echoes around us. Before I can ask him why he’s doing this, he does the same thing to the other. Shudders rack my body, as I cling to the island to keep from falling.
Ouch, sonofabitch. He slaps both bites hard. “Perfect. The entire time you’re sitting there at dinner you’ll feel these bite marks and think of me. Your slutty little cunt will be hungry for my cock. By the time we’re home again you’ll be begging and pleading for me to fuck you like the slut you are.”
He tugs my panties to the side before thrusting hard and deep inside me. The power of it leaves me gasping. Rough hands grip my hips so tight I have no doubt I’ll find bruises tomorrow as Milos fucks me. Hard, fast, almost violently pounding into my body, using me for his pleasure alone.
I’m so fucked up because holy fucking shit I love it so much I’m on the verge of coming. Close, so close, Milos feels it. He pulls me up higher. Yes, right fucking there. Two more strokes and I’m there. Falling hard and fast, breaking the surface of the ocean as if it were glass and shattering into a million pieces. The only thing holding me up is Milos as I struggle not to close my eyes and slip under the churning waves.
Milos coming inside me is everything. The molten heat melts all the pieces, pulling me back together and making me whole again as his…only his.
He lets me go. I sag, my legs won’t hold me up. A hand goes into my hair, guiding me to my knees. “Clean my cock,malyshka.” The words are soft and husky but still hold a command I don’t dare deny.
The hand beneath my chin guides my face up to him. “Eyes on me.”
I open my eyes as I lick him clean. The taste of us, tart, tangy, salty, oddly sweet, has me humming with pleasure. It’s only minutes but feels longer, as our eyes tangle. I don’t understand the darkness in him tonight, but I’m not going to press him or be anything other than what he needs.
“You’re so gorgeous on your knees with my cock in your mouth. It’s like you were made for me.” A finger runs down my cheek. “You love my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes, Milos.” I moan as I suck him deeper.
“When you sip your wine tonight, eat your food, the taste of us will linger and your mouth will water the way your cunt does for me.” He grips his cock, slaps my lips with it then pulls away.
“Let’s go. We’re already late.” Zipping up, he walks away without looking back.
“I’ll be right down. I need to clean up and fix my makeup,” I mumble.
He’s back, his hand is around my arm, yanking me up off the floor. “No, no cleaning up. The longer my come is inside you, the better chance you have to become pregnant. As far as how you look, you’re always beautiful.”
“Are you crazy? I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked.” I try to pull away so I can go back to the bathroom.
