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The knife slips from my hand and clatters as it hits the floor. I rise to my feet and lift Larysa into my arms, all thoughts of torture replaced by the insatiable need to bury myself inside of her. She melts into me, grinding her pussy against my cock because my dirty girl isn’t finished yet. She wants more and fuck, I want to give it to her.
I turn around and set her down on the edge of my desk. I kick the chair out of my way and pull off my shorts. She gazes up at me, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes blazing with need as she takes my length in her hand. I dig my fingertips into her back, each stroke of her hand making my balls ache and my cock scream.
The head of my dick throbs. I cover her hand with mine and guide myself toward her pussy.
“You didn’t like that?”
“I loved it.” I dip my head low, grazing her forehead with mine as I drag my cock up and down her seam. She widens her legs, her pussy lips beckoning me, begging for a kiss. “But I need more.”
I stroke the back of her head with one hand, my fingers tangling in her soft hair. Her lips part, eyes bright with a swirl of conflicting emotions that match the ones flooding my mind, and colliding with my desire for revenge. Blood crashes between my ears, muffling the ever-present anger and the regret that plagues me.
“Don’t do this because you’re angry.”
Her voice is so soft, I almost don’t hear the words through my inner turmoil.
“I’m not the same girl from Kiev, Danil. Not anymore.”
“I don’t want that girl. I want you. Right here.Right now.”
Chapter25
Larysa
My mind screams for me to push him away, for me to kick him square in that perfectly chiseled jaw, shocking him so that I can pop his dark, sadistic bubble and escape his clutches.
But my body is on a new page in a completely separate book. It craves an entirely different story, one filled with the most delicious combination of pleasure and pain that only Danil can deliver.
He stares at me with the intensity of someone who is desperately trying to piece together a life-or-death mystery and figure out my part in all of it. Flecks of gold glimmer in the chocolatey swirls of darkness that threaten to swallow me whole, never to let me go.
Maybe it’s wishful thinking.
He leans closer. His hot breath whispers over the outer shell of my ear. My back arches, a thin gasp of air releasing as he teases the sensitive skin.
Maybe it’s not.
His devious lips scorch a path back to mine, setting my skin aflame with every nip and suckle. He crushes his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue deep where it captures mine with hot and hungry coiling desire. My heart thrashes in my chest, so hard and so intense it could crack ribs.
He grabs my hips and slides me closer to the edge of the desk. His cock, hard, thick, and corded with throbbing veins, is positioned at my entrance. Snaking a hand around to the small of my back, he guides me backward using his arm as a crutch.
He thrusts into me hard, a low, savage growl rumbling deep in his chest. My pussy pulses as he drives his cock so deep, I can’t tell where I end and where he begins. I only know it feels more incredible than I ever imagined.
Otherworldly.
And it’s because of what’s happening between us. Maybe it’s Daniela, maybe it’s the constant threat of death and dismemberment, maybe it’s the thrill of being in the center of his violent storm. But there’s something bubbling between us that goes beyond the physical. I know it deep in my soul. I can feel it. He gives me hints and glimpses that I’m more than just a warm body to fuck. I can’t be making it all up in my head.
The way he looked at me yesterday once we got back from the funeral home, the way he touched me…there has to be something deeper on his side, too. It can’t all be a game to him, using my body as a way to reclaim control and power over his life. He couldn’t keep his hands or mouth off of me last night.
A nagging thought gnaws at my brain.
Just like Kiev, right? When he used you as a distraction from what was really tormenting him?
Am I really that desperate to believe that he feels for me what I’ve begun to feel for him, what I swore to myself that I’d never feel?
Sweat trickles down my spine, heat blazing in my core and igniting like a match tossed onto a trail of gasoline. My stomach knots, tightening with each push and pull against my clit. I lock my thighs around his hips, pulling him farther inside of me. But he doesn’t need instructions. A hot second passes, and the tip of his cock nudges my spot, tauntingly and maddeningly.
“That’s it,” I moan. “Don’t move. Just like that.”
I stop moving, my body rigid as if even blinking will make me lose the avalanche of euphoria I’m currently riding. It builds in speed and intensity until my heart almost explodes out of my chest.
