Page 57

Yuriy watched my reaction, eyes gleaming. “I understand, Stas. I felt the same way.”

I tore my eyes away from the sight and to his face. “What?”

“I was jealous of the way you held him by the neck.” His hand came over mine still gripping his neck. “Now I’m kind of disappointed you didn’t go through with your threat to kill him. Your hand belongs on my throat alone, Stanislav.”

At first, I’d been infuriated by him shortening my first name, but I got used to it. When he called me Stanislav, he made my knees weak.

“You’re unhinged,” I whispered. “You would have stood there and let me kill him?”

“I’d have glady fucked you while he bled out on the floor.”

“You invited him here.”

“Which I admit was my mistake, and it was his to come along.” Yuriy tapped my nose with his finger, then slid it down to my lips, which parted. “Men like him don’t satisfy me for long.” He slipped the finger between my lips. “You want to know why this will be the best sex I’ve ever had, Stanislav? Because I don’t have to hide who I am with you. You’ve lived every dark, fucked-up shit I can conceive, and yet you’re still here. There’s no reason to pretend between us. No reason to hold back. No reason to compromise. I want you.”

I latched onto his finger with my teeth and bit down into his flesh. Yuriy hissed but didn’t try to tug free.

“Harder,” he moaned. “If you’re gonna hurt me, Stas, make it hurt real good.”

So I bit down harder until his flesh broke and I tasted his blood on my tongue—hot, metallic, unmistakably him. His breath hitched, a sound halfway between a curse and a moan. Only then did I release him. Yuriy tugged his finger free, stared at the crimson staining the pad, then wiped it across my bottom lip.

With a groan, he grabbed the back of my head and smashed his lips onto mine with enough lust to cripple me. He opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, taking it from one to ten in a heartbeat.

My hands caught at his shoulders, his hair, anything that would keep him close. I couldn’t stop touching him. The room spun, all heat and motion, until the backs of my knees hit the bed. We went down hard, still tangled together with Yuriy half on top of me.

He kissed me hard until I was gasping against his lips. Then he gripped my jaw and spat his saliva into my mouth. It felt disrespectful.

And so fucking hot.

His thumb brushed my bottom lip, and he slapped my face. I bit back a moan.

“Swallow.”

I swallowed.

Something dark and hungry flickered in his eyes as he licked his lips.

Fuck.

He wasn’t going to be gentle on me, and that turned me on. I might have agreed to bottom for him, but I drew the line at being treated daintily. I wanted him to fuck me with the same passion he’d put into fighting me over the past decade.

“What took you so fucking long to get here?” He inched back to help me remove my coat, followed by my shirt. He cupped my pec and moaned. “I’d have been pissed if you made me fuck another man who could never satisfy me the way you can.”

I snarled at him for mentioning another man when I was half-naked, trembling under him. “Fuck you. Don’t mention anyone else when you’re in bed with me.”

Yuriy laughed, lowering his head to kiss my neck.

I leaned my head back, baring the expanse of my throat to him. I spanned his broad shoulders with my hands, a bitterness sneaking its way in because he had gotten naked for another man.

I gripped his studded nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and twisted hard.

“Ah! Fuck!” His head shot up, and he stared down at me, his eyes glazed. “That felt so fucking good.”

Of course it did to him.

Yuriy enjoyed pain.

I released him, and he slid down my body like a predator, ripping off my shoes and socks, hurling them across the room. My pants were next, torn open so violently a button pinged against the wall. When I tried to stop him from removing my underwear, he slammed my wrists against the mattress hard enough to bruise.