Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (73)

I’d been entranced by him then. His charm. His looks. His bulletproof confidence. It was a high knowing that a man like him could ever want a woman so ordinary.

He could have anyone.

And he chose me.

“Isaak,” I gasp. “Fuck me… Please God, just fuck me.”

His eyes flash, and a second later, I feel his cock graze my lips. He runs the tip up and down, making me tremble with anticipation.

Then he lines himself up and drives his hips forward. I grip his shoulders tight as he rams into me. My back scrapes the bark of the tree with each slap of his hips, but I welcome every glorious sensation. Every tug of pain, every little shiver of pleasure. Every startling ache that’s winding its way into my heart.

This might be a mistake, but I’m starting to think Isaak Vorobev is a mistake worth making.

Our eyes lock together. It’s not an easy thing to look a man in the eye when you’re having sex. To feel so exposed, so vulnerable, so completely at his mercy.

But I couldn’t look away from him if I tried.

So I don’t. Not even when the orgasm shivers through my body, a slow burn that I’m not expecting.

Not even when he palms my ass, pushing himself deeper inside me before he lets himself go.

Not even when he pulls out of me and I feel him trickle down my thighs.

Then, finally, we separate, sweaty and breathing hard. I still can’t look away, though, just as I’m unable to calm the frantic thrumming between my legs.

Because there’s one thing I know for certain now. Something I’d only suspected before: when it comes to Isaak Vorobev, I am well and truly fucked.





29





Isaak





The moment she comes down off the high, her self-consciousness seeps back in. She’s avoiding my gaze, but only because she’s trying to conceal the blush on her cheeks.

It’s enough to make me hard all over again.

“Uh, did you see my um…” She’s still breathing so hard that she can barely get the words out. “Underwear.”

“Over there.”

I could pick them up myself, but I want to see her bend over. She doesn’t disappoint. The moment I’m faced with her perfect, pert little ass, my cock starts throbbing.

She’s quick about slipping on her panties. Then she fusses with her clothes while I watch. I know I’m not exactly making things easy on her by staring. But that’s just part of the fun.

And honestly, I need a fucking moment.

After… everything.

She combs her hair into place with her fingers as she turns to me. I’ve only bothered to pull on my boxers and pants. My shirt’s still bunched up in my hand, slightly wet from the come I’d wiped off her thighs.

Her eyes linger on my abs, and I can see the blatant desire in them.

“You can touch if you want.”

The blush she’d managed to cow into submission rages back in full force. “I… I wasn’t…”

“Staring?” I ask. “I think you were.”

She can’t even deny it. She gives me a nervous little drizzle of laughter, but she’s still trying to get her bearings. I sit down underneath the tree I’d just fucked her against.

“Aren’t you, uh, going inside?” she asks tentatively.

“No.”

“Oh.” She sounds perplexed. After every sexual encounter we’ve ever had before, some shit happens. A fight. An explosion.

The relative peace between us now feels… strange. Like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Why don’t you sit down?” I suggest. “You seem a little unsteady.”

She hesitates for a moment before sitting down next to me. Closer than she’d like, maybe. Or perhaps not close enough.

“You okay?” I ask. “You seem a little jumpy.”

“Not jumpy,” she says quickly. “I just… I just realized something.”

She gives me a shy smile that piques my curiosity. “What?”

“We’ve never actually had sex in a bed, have we?”

I snort with laughter. “No, I guess not. But the day’s still young.”

She shakes her head. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting like we should be doing this.”

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“Because… well, I don’t know. It’s not right.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” she says defensively. “I mean, I’m your captive.”

I roll my eyes. “You can do better than that.”

“As far as excuses go, I’d say it’s a pretty damn good one.”

“It’s temporary,” I tell her. “Just until I can get Maxim under control. This is for your own good, Camila.”

“I hate when people say that. Especially men.”

“It happens to be true in this case. If I let you go, he’s only going to come after you. And then you won’t be getting simpering Alex. You’ll be getting Maxim Vorobev.”

“What makes you think he was simpering?”

“Because I know him. He’s the definition of the fucking word.”