Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (94)

I even notice a small rip down the hemline. I definitely hadn’t noticed it last night. But then again, I wasn’t capable of noticing much last night.

There’s a comforting ache running up and down my body. I feel the need to move around a little, but Isaak’s arm is lying on my hip and I don’t want to move it.

Instead, I stare at his hand. It’s so big and masculine. So powerful. My pussy throbs erratically and I almost laugh at my own body.

After last night, I’d assumed my desires would be sated. But apparently, all I needed was a good night of sleep and we’re right back where we started in that department. Isaak stirs beside me, and his hand moves up my hip. The throbbing between my thighs just gets worse.

Feeling unmoored from reality, I wiggle away as quietly as I can and sit up a little. The windows are shut tight, but one side of the curtain has been pulled back to reveal a pool of sunlight on the carpeted floor.

Walking into this castle yesterday felt like something out of a dream. But now, I can’t help thinking that it’s skewed with my brain a little. Sent me tumbling down a rabbit hole I can’t climb out of.

I have to remind myself of the truth: I’m not a princess living out a fantasy with a handsome prince. That’s not real.

My reality is that I’m a mother. I have a little girl out there who’s being raised by my sister because I made an impossible call to keep her safe rather than with me.

But what is my excuse now?

And what is my excuse for not telling Isaak about Jo?

We’ve slept together multiple times since I’ve been in his home. And last night, I initiated the whole thing. I was the one who leaned in. I was the one who kissed him. I was the one who rode him until I came.

I’d made all the decisions, and every single time, I’d chosen him. Last night, under the stars, our problems had felt small. Miniscule, in fact.

I was just a girl.

And he was just a boy.

No. Not a boy. That word doesn’t suit Isaak at all. There’s nothing remotely boyish about him. He’s a man in every sense of the word.

And last night, he had been mine.

But that was all just a beautiful illusion. How can two people belong to one another when there are so many secrets between them?

How can I belong to Isaak when the only reason I’m in his bed at all is because he wants to stick it to his cousin?

My head feels heavy with all the reasons why this can never work between us. And at the end of it all, the only feelings that stick out clearly are the ones I have for my daughter.

She comes first. Period. Always.

“Morning.”

I give a start of surprise as I turn to Isaak. “You’re awake.”

“I’ve been awake,” he corrects. “Watching you.”

“Oh.”

The blush hits my face instantly. He doesn’t bother pretending he doesn’t see it. He caresses my cheek. God, I wish that didn’t feel so good.

“Come here,” he says, his tone rasping into a growl.

His arms encircle me from behind and he pulls me into his body. Immediately, I feel the length of his cock between my butt cheeks.

He feels me up from behind, letting his hands roam my breasts, my curves, the heat of my center. All the while, he buries his cock between my ass and plants little kisses on my shoulder and down my arm.

There’s something different about morning sex. The way your skin feels like it’s come alive after a night of rest. The way it feels extra sensitive to every grazing touch.

I moan, and he’s not even inside me yet. The worries of a moment ago still exist. But they seem less urgent now that he’s touching me. I allow myself this one moment of reprieve. I let myself enjoy—because I know it can’t last.

The castle will dissolve into yesterday’s memory and it’ll take this tentative truce with it. We’re too different, Isaak and I. We belong to different worlds.

And maybe that’s the reason I’ve put off telling him about Jo. Because I know that if I do, it will be because I’m sure I want his world to be mine. And right now, I’m not sure. Not even close.

He teases me with his cock, rubbing his tip against my opening, pushing in just a little before pulling back out again. At one point, I back my ass into him, hoping he’ll slip inside.

But as usual, I can’t do anything unless he lets me.

As always, he’s the one in charge.

He winds me down to a quivering mess of hormones and only then does he push inside me. Slowly, with such excessive care that I feel him wholly as he sinks deep inside me.

He puts an arm under my head so that I’m resting on his curved elbow, and he fucks me slow, priming my body for the orgasm that he’s taking the time to build.

Just when my toes start to curl and my moans come faster and more desperate, he pulls out of me and turns me onto my chest.

With my head pressed to the side of my pillow, he enters me again from behind. This time, he doesn’t go gentle. He knows I’m close.

So he pounds into me, squeezing my ass as his breathing gets more and more labored. We’re almost in sync now, but he can control himself a lot better than I can. I’ve always been helpful when he owns me like this.

He waits until I come, and the moment I explode on his cock, he pulls out and flips me back over so that I’m looking up at him.

He straightens up and balances on his knees above me, his hand wrapping around his massive shaft. He pumps back and forth, while staring down at my face.