The Player (The Game Maker #3)(43)

CHAPTER 18

“Um, Dmitri?”

Eyes closed, sucking in lungfuls of air, he held up a finger. “Minute.”

I wondered what he’d meant when he said, “Keep me here.” The second time he’d told me that. Was it some kind of Russian thing?

When he finally faced me again, he didn’t bother hiding his amazement. “I had heard a man could spend so hard he saw stars, but I never believed. Vika, that was a detonation.”

Instead of waggling a sore jaw, he licked his lips, gaze hooded. “And you’d thought to deny me that?” With effort, he made it back to his knees. His hands were unsteady as he loosened one of the belts.

“I wish I’d had something to do with getting you there.” I straightened my leg, wincing a little at the pinpricks.

He began massaging them away. “You mean beside your taste, your scent, your moans? Your response wrested that pleasure from me. Speaking of which . . .” A look of pure masculine pride lit his face. “Shame you can’t come from oral sex.”

That look. “You’re really hot when you’re insufferably proud and cocky.”

He unbound and massaged my other leg. “I am proud—to have pleasured you thoroughly.” He leaned over to untie my wrists, his semihard dick wagging in front of my face.

Need. He’d told me he wanted to make a woman like me addicted to him. Was I already there?

Once he’d freed me completely, he asked, “So how many times did you get off?”

I play-slapped his hip. “Four, you smug asshat.”

He pulled back the cover. “In you go.”

I dutifully crawled under. “Have I lost all your respect?”

“There are many things I feel for you right now. Respect is among them.”

“How did you keep from f*cking me?” The way his cock had strained . . .

“How is trust evaluated? By testing it.” He showed me his palms. Ragged cuts and dried blood marked both. He’d dug his nails in! “It was everything I could do to keep control of myself.”

Crazy man! “Why is it so important? Any other guy would’ve just done it.”

He squared his shoulders, as if proud of what he was about to say. “I reminded myself that if I broke my promise, I could lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I whispered. “Me?”

“You, ángel.”

But I wasn’t an angel. I was so far from it.

“Those bites of pain were well worth my reward.” He rose, unfolding his tall frame. My gaze locked on his dick.

How would I make it through another night without sex?

He headed to my bathroom, giving me the view of his powerful back and shoulders, his lean hips. . . .

His ass.

Good thing I’m not standing.

His taut cheeks were sculpted with hollows on the sides. The play of contracting muscles taunted my nails to dig into them. I wanted to grip that flesh as he pounded me. I imagined nipping him there, and a whimper escaped my lips.

He paused, then walked on, saying, “Are you objectifying me, Vika?”

A laugh bubbled up.

When he returned, he pulled on his clothes before my rapt gaze. I kept thinking, That god of a man just came from my bed. . . .

Dressed, he sat beside me. “I am pleased we have things settled now.”

“Settled?” Oh. That.

“You and I are exclusive with one another.”

As I stared into his thrall eyes, I figured, Well, we could be exclusive.

Ah! I dragged my gaze away. “I can’t look at you.”

He pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Why, ángel?” Hurt flashed across his expression.

“Because I feel as if I’m under some kind of spell. You look at me like this, and I can’t think. And worse, I can’t seem to tell you no.”

“Then never tell me no.”

“You’re crazy.” I bit my tongue as soon as the words left it. I hadn’t meant to say it earlier either.

“Yes. I am on occasion. But tonight I wasn’t.”

I needed to get to the bottom of this. There were different levels and types of crazy, right? He was probably just a social oddball, an eccentric—

“I have a gift for you.”

Gift???

He reached into a jacket pocket. “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.”

I did.

“I hope you like diamonds.” Cool metal glided over my collarbones and neck. The strand was heavy. “You can look now.”

I gasped at the necklace. A dozen large diamonds were spaced randomly down a platinum chain, each one set in a bezel of tiny sapphires. The stones came in all different shapes: oval, pear, marquise, triangular. The necklace had no discernible pattern. I loved it!

Though ridiculously picky about clothes and jewelry, I could wear this piece forever. “Are you dicking with me?”

“No. I am not.”

I dragged my gaze from the sparkling rocks. “Ah, you do want to be my sugar daddy. A piece of jewelry for an orgasm. It is Vegas after all.”

“If I paid you what that orgasm was worth to me, I’d be back in the research lab because I would be penniless.”

And here comes the charm. I couldn’t stop a grin.