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None of it helps. Somewhere, in the midst of all these out-of-control emotions, I find a sense of self that I thought I’d lost. I’m here tonight formeand there’s no guilt attached to that realization.
“Fuck, Ruslan… please…ahh…please… I’m gonna… come…”
His mouth pulls away. But before the disappointment crystalizes, his hands grab my hips and he sinks his dick all the way inside me.
Ruslan smooths a hand along my spine as he rocks into me, making sure I feel every inch stretch me open and fill me to the brim. His fingers thread through my hair at the nape of my neck until he grabs a fistful and pulls just hard enough to make me arch deeper for him. Every thrust is timed with a tug; every resounding slap in the air is the sound of his hips connecting with my ass.
I have no idea what I’m screaming—I just know my lungs burn and my throat is hoarse.
I also know that I’m going to get the first layer of skin slapped off my ass for breaking his rules, because there’s no way I can hold the orgasm back anymore.
“Come for me, my littlekiska,” Ruslan growls.
Oh, thank God.
I shudder and sob as the orgasm rips through my body. He’s close behind me, pulling me harder onto him and grinding in so fucking deep as he fills my body with his own release.
He doesn’t wait long before he pulls out of me. I collapse face-first onto the sofa. I’m not complaining; I’d gladly bury myself inside this couch if I could.
Ruslan grabs a couple of tissues from a fancy metal holder. I think he’s going to pass them to me for a second, but before I can respond, he bends down and cleans me up himself. His hands are gentle, his gaze staying fixated on his work. I just lie there in awe and let him.
Then, head still woozy, I watch as he rises back up to his full height. Even after coming, his cock is still a dangerous weapon, nearly the size of my forearm. He turns and pulls his boxer briefs back on, then walks over to the bar in the corner.
“Drink?”
It’s tempting. Especially because the offer suggests that he wants me to stay a little longer. The thing is, I feel good. Like,reallygood. But I don’t want to burst the bubble by overstaying my welcome. And since I’m almost certain that being kicked out again is going to bring my high crashing down, I decide to stick to my guns and leave immediately.
“No, thanks. Don’t wanna risk a hangover. I have work tomorrow and my boss can be a nightmare.”
He smirks. “Is that so?”
I nod. “But he isn’t all bad. At least he pays me well.”
“Hm. As you wish.” Ruslan gives me a little smile that makes me suddenly wish I hadn’t just turned down his offer to stay.
No. Distance is better. Distance keeps you safe.
“Goodnight, Mr. Oryolov.”
“Goodnight, Emma.”
I dress quickly, cheeks burning—both sets of cheeks—then leave without looking back. On the way down in the elevator, I let out a low breath that turns into a disbelieving laugh. This whole thing still feels too surreal to be happening to me.
This time, when I pass the guard at the security desk, I give him a huge, confident smile. A smile that says,Yeah that’s right. I had hot, sweaty, nasty sex with a hot, sweaty, nasty man, but I am no one’s prostitute. I am my own woman. I protect my own heart.
And when I do leave one day—whenever that day comes—I’m going to leave Ruslan wanting more.
24
RUSLAN
“You’re telling me that it’sallgone?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
I wait for the supplier to elaborate, but he sounds like he’s concentrating on not shitting his pants. I wish we were having this conversation face to face. Shitting his pants would be the least of his fucking concerns.
“That container of B47 substrate was marked forme. The purchase order was sent. You accepted my motherfucking money.”
