Chapter 14: Seduction: Chapter 14

The effects of the wine have long since worn off, so I blame his utterly perfect dominance for the way I feel like I’m going to float away. I’ve never wanted to please a man before, but there’s something about the way he is that makes me like putty in his hands.

My body hovers over his, my hands trembling while I support my weight on my wrists. It’s not so much a hard position to hold as it’s utterly, irrevocably vulnerable.

I mewl at the first swipe of his tongue on my clit. I grin at the sound of his groan.

“Fucking candy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against me. “You’re addictive.”

While I kneel over him, he reaches a finger to my nipple and gives a little teasing squeeze. A pulse of arousal surges through me, and I’m completely engulfed in flames. How does he do that?

The sensation of his tongue over my clit at the same time he tweaks my nipples makes me weak. I can’t help but totally surrender to him. The more he touches me, the stronger my need to climax overwhelms me.

“Markov,” I say, begging, even though I don’t know what I’m begging for. I can hardly form a thought. It’s so intimate, so personal, I’m bared to him. There’s nowhere to hide. . . anything.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his voice muffled between my thighs, his tongue hovering right over where I desperately need him to go.

“Noooo,” I moan. “Please. Oh, God, oh my God⁠—”

“Beg me. Say please, Daddy.”

I blink, shocked, as waves of arousal drown me. My cheeks heat, and before I can think, he claps his heavy hand on my ass.

“Do it.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I feel choked, desperate, and I feel like⁠—

Slap.

Another hard smack of his palm takes all thought out of my mind, right along with my breath.

“Please, Daddy. Please let me come. Daddy. . .”

His growl of pleasure and approval fills me with head-to-toe bliss just seconds before the rest of my body catches up. He suckles my clit between his lips, and I lose my mind.

Euphoria explodes through me, overtaking every nerve in my body. I’m screaming, helpless to stop. I don’t care who hears or what they think. I’m powerless over the ecstasy taking over my body like I’m a woman possessed.

“Thank me,” he growls against my thigh. “Thank me while you come.”

“Thank you,” I mewl as another wave of ecstasy crashes through my veins. “Thank you. Thank you. . . Daddy,” I whisper and sob as I come against his tongue with abandon.

Seconds, minutes, years pass while I’m totally encompassed in scorching hot pleasure. I finally slump to the side as he guides my hips over to the side. I can’t move. My limbs are immobile. I’ve been paralyzed with pleasure.

“Come here,” he says.

“Can’t. . . move,” I manage to whisper. I can’t even open my eyes.

“Good,” he says approvingly. “Then I did my job right.” With effortless ease, he lifts my body and slides me onto his chest before threading his fingers through my hair. I feel the length of his cock against my belly.

“Markov. . . you can’t just do that for me and leave yourself, you know.”

“I won’t,” he whispers. “But we’re not ready to take it to the next level.”

Aren’t we, though? I trust him.

“There’s no turning back if we go there, Vera,” he whispers. “No turning back.”

It sounds as if he might be speaking from personal experience.

“But I—I want to know. Please, Markov.”

He cups the back of my head, his tone fierce when he says. “You want to give yourself to me? Are you a virgin, Vera?”

I swallow and nod. I was sheltered and alone, of course I am.

He makes a strangled sound, like a muffled, masculine groan. “That’s a gift you should never give lightly, Vera. It’s yours to give, and you can only give it once.”

I nod, my decision made. “But I want it to be you.”

Who else would give me his undeniable protection? Who else would cherish me? Who else would make sure I had everything I needed, from food in my belly to a fully-charged cell phone? Who knows what I’ve grown up with and what’s left me wanting as a grown woman?

Who else has seen me, all of me, and accepted me as I fully am?

“Come, Vera,” he whispers, the rumble of a voice in my ear making me shiver. I love the sound of his voice. I love it more when he calls me by name.

“You’re drunk on sex,” he says. “I can’t take your virginity when you’re drunk on sex.”

At that, I’ve had it. I push myself up to my elbow and stare at him. “You’re talking to a woman who made it into the most prestigious program in all of Russia. You’re talking to a woman raised in the bratva, who’s seen and heard terrible things and still, here I am.” I look him straight in the eye. “You’re not talking to a girl, Markov. You’re talking to a woman who knows what she wants. . . and I want you.”

Before I can process what’s happening, I’m on my back beneath his weight, and it feels so damn good. I’m still all pliable and warm after he made me come, and even now, my body aches for more.

With one deft movement, my wrists are in his hands.

“I don’t fuck casually,” he warns.

“I know.” Anything less would betray his character and integrity.

It’s why I want him. Why I need him.

“This is your first time,” he says, as if checking.

I nod and swallow. Confirming. He knows it is, but it’s like he needs one final check to have my consent.

“This is my first time, and I want it to be with you.”

“It will hurt, at least at first,” he says gently.

I rest my hand on his cheek. “Markov. Are you. . . trembling?”

I’m shocked that the strongest, most fearless man I’ve ever met seems scared at what we’re about to do.

He nods and licks his lips. Swallows. Tightens his grip on my wrists. “It’s only because I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life,” he says hoarsely.

I hold his gaze. “Take what’s yours. I’d help you in, but you’re holding my wrists.”

His stern face breaks into a grin, an actual grin. In seconds, he’s pushed down his boxers with his free hand and taken out his hard length. I swallow, my breath catching. I’m so eager to have him in me.

“Please,” I whisper. I want him to know how badly I want him.

The warm head of his cock teases my slick entrance. I’m holding my breath, and he’s holding my gaze. Slowly, firmly, never wavering while he looks at me, Markov enters me.

I’m so full and stretched, but he’s so gentle it barely registers as pain. He’s trembling from the effort of holding back.

His eyes roll back, and he curses out loud. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight and hot. Jesus, Vera, your hot little cunt’s like a goddamn masterpiece.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, my heart surging in my chest. My need for him pounds in my veins. Finally, he thrusts.

I hold my breath, pleasure mixed with pain as he eases nearly all the way out before he comes back in, his cock filling me. Again, he thrusts, this time a tiny bit more forceful. Again, pleasure-pain consumes me, and my moans join his until he builds a rhythm that takes over all thought and replaces it with utter bliss.

Every thrust brings me closer to another surge of pleasure, and I hardly know what to expect.

The tightness around my wrists intensifies as he thrusts again, this time harder than before. I whimper.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, his forehead crinkled in concern.

“No, God, no, don’t stop,” I beg. “Please. . . please, Daddy, take me.”

“You’re perfect,” he whispers in my ear. “Perfect, Vera. Thank you. I’ll never forget what you gave me.”

Thrust after thrust, he builds a steady rhythm of perfect bliss, carrying me and sending me higher and higher. I wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible, and this, this right here, is the only way.

He curses in my ear as he spills inside me, and my own climax, this one sweeter and fuller and somehow more perfect, overtakes me at the same time. We ride the high of ecstasy until he falls beside me and utters something in Russian.

And while I run my hand silently down the length of his muscled, inked back slicked with dampness, I realize. . . it’s the first time in my life I feel like a woman.

“Markov,” I say quietly. Thoughtfully.

“Mmmm?” he asks, his head buried on my chest. It makes him almost look boyish.

“What just happened?”