Page 88 of The Beast of Moscow

To fuck, she told him.

It just wasn’t that simple.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.”

And all at once, her movements stopped.

A pin could have dropped across the room, and he would have heard it. She couldn’t hide the sting of rejection on her face, or maybe she just felt used as she started to pull back, one of her feet sliding to the floor.

“Then why would you—”

Vaslav couldn’t let her do that. Not leave him or think the way she probably was. He snatched her by the wrist, pulling her into him and holding her around the waist as a fire came back to her eyes.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

Quietly, sure, but firm all the same.

“Listen first,” he said, the dopamine from his orgasm wearing off and leaving him with the same pain it had kissed goodbye for a blissful minute. “Listen, yeah?”

Vera’s trembling chin stiffened, but she still muttered, “I’m listening.”

“Feel me, kisska.” Her shuddering exhale when he rocked her body against his said she felt how hard he still was. All he needed to do was shift those sopping panties of hers to the side, and he’d fill her full. “I’m still hard after a half of a bottle of vodka, a Vicodin, and a load down your throat. I’d fuck you, and you’d feel me for a week, but I won’t tonight. Not bare, Vera. I fuck no one bare.”

“You don’t have condoms.”

Her head dropped, keeping her gaze from his as it settled in. To be honest, it was only a vague consideration in the back of his mind because he hadn’t expected the night to turn out the way it had, let alone the overall trip.

That fight in her tense shoulders loosened only a little, and she whispered, “I’m on a shot, if that—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He had rules for a reason.

That was one of them.

His fingers ticked under her chin, drawing her attention back to where he wanted it to be. Only on him. He bet his days would be far better if he could do this with her everyday; but men like him weren’t afforded those sorts of pleasures without also paying a great price.

“Hmm, look at me, Vera.”

“I am.”

Yes, but was she seeing him?

Sometimes, those were two different things.

“This wasn’t my intention—us doing this, I mean.”

If that wasn’t already clear.

He would have prepared better.

Her quiet somber mood melted into a whine of bliss when his one hand cupped her throat, and the other slipped under her panties and between her thighs to find that slick heat waiting for him. Greedy and hungry, she bucked into every touch, each stroke. She even bit her lip when he pinched a bit around the hood of her swollen clit, whispering shamelessly, “Do that again.”

“You can’t even pretend you didn’t like to have a cock in your mouth, can you?” he asked as two of his fingers massaged into her clenching sex. If he was a lucky man, he would make sure Vera made a terrible mess of Pierre’s bedroom chair. “No wonder you want to be a man’s little slut—you just want to please. You want a third to really get you full, kisska?”

She was already rocking harder in his lap, taking what friction she could get from his hands and what he would give her with his fingers. “Yes, and don’t hold back.”

Oh, he wasn’t the type for that.