Thief (Boston Underworld #5)(32)

To further prove his point, his hands grip the back of my thighs, pushing them up until my knees kiss my chest. Cool air passes over the most intimate part of me, and embarrassment colors my cheeks as his eyes drink me in like this. I’m on display, just like the doll he says I am. It’s lewd, and it’s dirty, and I try to squeeze my thighs back together, but they don’t budge.

“Nikolai.”

“You can call me Nikolasha,” he tells me. “Whenever I eat your pussy.”

His mouth comes down on me, and I yelp. But when I feel him bury his tongue inside me, spasms rock my body. I squirm against him, fighting for each ragged breath as he laps at me without restraint. My knees buckle, and I feel like I’m falling. I’m out of control, and I’m falling, and there’s nothing to save me.

My fingers coil in his hair, twisting with the intent of pushing him away, but instead, I pull him closer like a deviant. He kneads the flesh of my ass cheeks in his hands and drinks from my body like I’m the sweetest nectar he’s ever tasted. I’m hypnotized. Strung out. Drunk on a pleasure I never realized existed. But I know it’s a lie. I’m not the sweetest nectar he’s ever tasted. Every time my eyes fall shut, I see him with her. I see him with all the others who came before me. And I hate it. I hate him.

I tell him so.

He grunts. “You won’t hate me when your pussy is raw from my lips.”

Sharp teeth pinch the most sensitive part of my flesh, and I reflexively yank on his hair. His grip dominates me, and I am left to thrash against him as he schools me in the art of control. I claw at his arms. His shoulders. Even the back of his neck. I tell him in one breath that I hate him and beg him not to stop in the next.

None of it matters. Nikolai has his own agenda.

“You are going to come on my face,” he murmurs. “And you’ll be filthy just like me.”

I don’t want it to be true. But it is. The onslaught is sudden and explosive. With the tug of his puppet strings, the master fractures the good girl inside me. All that’s left in the wake of his devastation is a broken doll who wrings out every ounce of pleasure from his mouth before she deflates.

I’m bankrupt. Devoid of contrition as he kisses my thigh and smears the arousal from his face into my skin. Tomorrow I’ll repent, but for now, the devil’s got his grasp on me.

Nikolai unzips his pants, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips as his cock springs free. It’s a violent pulsing monstrosity. I watch his face as he strokes it in his fist. Eyes half-drunk, he soaks in the sight before him. I’m still spread wide, my sex wet and swollen and tender from him.

He edges his body between my parted thighs, and I try to squeeze them shut, but he just pries them back open. I think this is it. This is where he will ruin me. This is the moment that my life will be over.

He drags my body closer to the giant throbbing dick, and I shiver. It’s going to hurt. I might cry. I don’t know how my body will ever accommodate him. The piercing heat thrusts against my sensitive flesh, dousing his cock with my arousal. I take a breath, and the world doesn’t end.

He doesn’t violate the sacred barrier, even if I secretly wish he would. Instead, he reaches for my hand and guides it down between my legs, wrapping it around his heavy flesh. He shows me the way, teaching me how to touch him. How to grip him. How to force the sounds of agony that rip from his throat. Lusting for that power, the student quickly surpasses the teacher. The tides have changed, and now it is this savage of a man who is a slave to me.

He collapses forward, his palms coming to rest on my knees as his head falls back in a drugged daze. His hips move disjointedly, jarring his cock into the tiny opening of my fingers. He’s fucking my hand, and not my body. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I’m in control, and he can’t stop himself.

I watch his face, cataloging every detail. The tension pulling at his drooping eyes. The five-o clock shadow feathering over his sharp cheekbones. The tousled hair that I attacked. He didn’t look this way with her. He didn’t look this way with anyone.

I’ve left my mark on him.

And now, he’s determined to leave his on me. His cock pulses, and he yanks it from my grasp, jets of hot cum spraying against my sex. I wrench at the unexpected sensation, and he offers me a lazy smile as he smears the fluid inside me with his fingers.

“What are you doing?” I demand. “You can’t do that.”

He isn’t reactive to my protests, and I’m not even sure he heard them. His eyes are dazed and heavy as he squeezes the head of his cock into my opening, seating just the tip inside.

I jolt at the foreign intrusion before falling eerily still. His skin is on my skin. His cum is inside me, and if I even breathe, he could push past the point of no return.

Murmurs of his approval rumble from his chest as he glides back and forth with the slightest of movements. It seems to go on until my lungs are about to burst, and only when his dick is soft does he pull out and tuck himself away.

“Next time, zvezda, I will empty myself inside you.”





“Why don’t you tell me what you think your future looks like,” Sarah suggests.

Nakya gazes out the window, rapping her fingers against the bottle of water in her hands. She is curled into herself, so small the chair swallows her whole. After last week’s tantrum, I feared she might need to be placed on the tube again. But her doctors assure me she is back on track.