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Maybe it’s because I know what she created…what we both created together.
I loop my fingertips into her shorts and tug them down to her ankles as I drop to my knees in front of her bare pussy. Her scent intoxicates me at my most carnal level.
Cupping her pussy, I blow out a thin stream of air. She shudders, her knees trembling before I even touch her. I slide a finger between her plump lips. With a sudden and piercing cry, she moves into me as she slaps both hands backward against the tile wall. I stroke forward inside her, against her G-spot, using my other hand to hold her still so that all she can do is make small, helpless motions. She teeters on the brink between anguish and release, and I’m so ready to push her over the edge.
I lick a path from my hand to her ass, swirling my tongue around her tight little hole. A scream shatters the silence. Her body convulses, tremors rocking her as I finger-fuck her tight pussy, the sound of her mewls and moans pure music.
Getting to my feet, I slide in my thumb and pump her and she shakes all over, words in a language I don’t understand spilling from her lips as she moves her hands from the wall to my shoulders. Her nails dig into my flesh, searing pain following each scrape and scratch.
I fist her hair and growl against her ear, “Did you like that, Larysa? Did it feel good?”
She gasps for air, her body still quivering in my hands. “Yes.”
“Do you want me to do that to you again?”
“Yes!”
Then, without warning, I pull her away from the wall, bring my free hand down against her ass, and smack that soft, ripe flesh. My dick throbs. She yelps and I spank her again, harder. She squeals each time I bring my hand to her now-bright-red skin.
“Tell me who you belong to, Larysa.” I slap my hand against her ass once more, fingering her with my other hand. This time I grasp the globe of her ass, bending down to nip at it with my teeth.
She whimpers, rolling her hips and clenching her slick walls tight around my demanding fingers. “Fuck.You.”
I’m sure she expects that her thoughtless use of those words will piss me off. Maybe even make me punish her again, which she so clearly loves since she begs for it every time she opens her mouth to speak.
A grin plays at my lips before I sink my teeth into her plump flesh. She yells but never stops riding my hand. She writhes wildly against me, unable to control herself. Her juices coat my fingers, just one more example of her body going rogue and giving away her true feelings.
She resists her fate like a caged animal, and I will love every fucking minute that it takes to finally tame her.
Only then can I truly own all of her.
Chapter20
Larysa
Afew hours later, I lean back against the leather bench seat in the back of the Ford Expedition, clutching the seat belt clasped tight around me like it’s the last shred of sanity within my reach. A shuddering sigh slips from my lips as my eyes float closed for a brief minute where I’m shuttled back to that erotic bathroom assault.
Unwelcome, though delicious, aftershocks still ripple through me from Danil’s deviant attack. All of my protests and insults did nothing but fuel his desire to take exactly what he wanted from me.
To win.
And I let him, without even realizing it because he is that manipulative. My mind was so fogged by lust, forming a rational thought was futile. He force-fed my anger and disgust right back to me like it was a seven-course meal, enough to make me choke. But the worst part about it wasn’t that I gave in to him again and completely abandoned my sensibilities.
It’s that he made me realize just how screwed I actually am with him as my self-imposed guardian.
Because he doesn’t care about protecting me.
He just wants to break me.
And it seems like my body is a willing partner in his objective.
I turn to stare out the window as the driver, Ilya, speeds down Collins Avenue, away from Danil’s building. Turbulent ocean waves gather force and speed as they crash against the sandy beach, much like the thoughts that launch from one dark corner of my mind to the next, trying in vain to make sense of everything that’s transpired in the past twenty-four hours.
Pelting raindrops relentlessly pound the sides of the truck, the windshield a cascading flood of clear liquid that the wipers have no shot of keeping up with. Water splashes around us as the truck plows through deep puddles en route to the funeral home for the final viewing of Irina Malikov before she’s transported to the cemetery for the burial.
I sneak a glance at Danil, who sits opposite me in the back. Daniela’s brand-new car seat is secured between us. Her soft voice is the only sound to cut through the tense silence. As if he can sense my eyes on him, he looks up from his phone, meeting my harsh glare. It doesn’t faze him in the least.
The hint of a self-satisfied smile quirks the corner of his mouth, a sight he waits for me to see before dropping his eyes once again.
