Viktor’s home, and Marie’s glowing like a woman who spent the last twenty-four hours tangled in her husband’s arms, locked away in their bedroom.
“Well, look who came back to civilization,” I tease my sister, flopping on the couch next to her.
Marie doesn’t even bother hiding her huge smile. “Miss me?”
“You?” I grin. “Always. Him?” I jerk a thumb toward Viktor, who’s standing in the entryway with Aslan by his side like a shadow. “Not so much.”
Viktor’s deep chuckle rolls through the room.
My gaze flicks to Aslan. He’s standing a few feet back. Broad, cold, and as infuriatingly hot as ever. His sharp blue gaze locks on mine, completely unnerving.
I should be used to it by now. I’m absolutely not.
Viktor’s voice draws me back to him. “I need you to behave this weekend.”
I blink up at him. “What’s happening this weekend?”
“There’s a charity gala,” he replies, pinning me with his intense eyes. He doesn’t say it’s Bratva business, but I read through the lines.
* * *
The venue is stunning. All glass chandeliers, huge floral arrangements, and shiny marble floors.
Marie looks amazing in a deep red dress that perfectly hugs her. I went for black. A short, fitted dress with sheer sleeves and a neckline that dips just low enough to keep things interesting.
“Looking good, sassy.”
I stiffen.
That voice. Deep. Rough. Like gravel and smoke.
I turn slowly… finding Aslan behind me, dressed in another impeccable black suit. The man’s built like a fucking wet dream, broad and impossible to ignore. His jacket stretches over his massive shoulders like the fabric struggles to contain him. He’s mouthwatering with his dark hair combed back, bright blue eyes contrasting with his tanned skin, ruggedly handsome features, and that mouth I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I manage to tease.
He doesn’t smile, doesn’t blink, just drags his gaze down my body, slowly, like he’s checking a damn menu. Deciding how he’s gonna devour me later.
I shiver.
“Stay close,” he adds low. His heat and scent enveloping me. “And stay out of trouble.”
I roll my eyes.
* * *
I was good. For a while.
I sipped my drink, made small talk, and even let Marie drag me to a table full of socialites who kept asking questions about her “exciting” marriage.
Then I got bored out of my mind, and that’s how I end up on the dance floor.
The music’s soft and slow, with couples swaying around. The guy I’m dancing with is cute enough, a little too chatty, but I’m barely paying attention to what he’s saying.
I’m too busy feeling Aslan’s stare burn through my skin from across the room.
I know he’s watching.
I know he’s pissed.
I know I should stop.
But I don’t.
I let the guy spin me, laughing a little too loud. I move closer. Just enough to make Aslan’s hands curl into fists at his sides.
His face is carved in stone.
His eyes are on fire.
I know I’m pushing too far… but when I try to step away, the guy catches my wrist and pulls me into an isolated corner of the venue.
“You’re not leaving yet,” he slurs. “I still owe you a drink.”
“No, thanks,” I reply fake-sweetly, in an effort to pacify him. “I’m good.”
He tightens his grip.
“You sure?” His fingers dig deeper.
What the fuck?
“One more-”
“Let her go.” Aslan’s voice comes from behind me, cold and lethal.
My dance partner barely turns before Aslan’s hand wraps around his throat.
“Hey, man!”
His words are cut off in a wet gurgle as Aslan slams him against the nearest wall, his fingers digging deep into the idiot’s throat. Oh shit…
“You like putting your hands on women?” Aslan growls in a scary tone that sends shivers all over my body. “Let’s see how you feel when someone your size puts their hands on you.”
Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. The guy’s face turns red. His fingers clawing uselessly at Aslan’s wrist. But my Russian is a mighty, avenging warrior.
“Aslan,” I finally break out of my trance, gasping when I see the guy’s face turn purple.
His eyes flash to me before snapping back to the man he’s holding in a death grip.
“I should break all your fucking bones,” Aslan growls. “One for every second you touched her.”
He jerks him, then slams him back against the wall. The idiot’s head cracks against the brick in a terrifying sound, and he slumps, gasping. But Aslan’s grip only tightens. I gasp, bringing my hands to my mouth. Frozen in place and morbidly fascinated by this display of cold, cruel violence.
Does this asshole deserve to be put in his place? Absolutely. But all he did was grab my wrist a little too hard. Well, he did corner me into a dark hallway, so who knows what else he intended…
“Don’t…” Aslan’s already scary voice drops even lower. “Fucking…” His fingers dig deeper. “…put your hands on a woman ever again.”
The man’s eyes roll back. Oh, My God!
“Aslan, stop!” I grab his arm, shaking out of it. “You’re gonna kill him!”
He freezes, his gaze dropping to where I’m touching him. His chest rises and falls like a storm is brewing under his ribs. His hand twitches, like he’s still deciding whether to squeeze harder or let go.
“Please,” I whisper soothingly. “I’m okay, baby.”
For a second, I’m not sure he’s even listening. Maybe he’s too far gone, too deep in whatever dark place his mind’s spiraled into. I keep pleading with my eyes, my entire body. Then, finally, his grip loosens, and I let out a sigh of relief.
The guy drops to his knees, coughing and choking, before scrambling to his feet and bolting away without a glance back, like his life depends on it. And it probably does.
The second he’s gone, Aslan turns to me, his hand finding my waist.
“When will you learn, brat?” he growls, dragging me close. “Dancing with some dipshit just to piss me off?”
My breasts crash into the hard planes of his chest.
“I wasn’t-”
He leans closer. His minty breath caressing my face.
“You were.” His hand slides lower, cupping my ass. “You wanted me to react.”
I feel my eyes widen as he grinds into me. Pressing his hard cock into my belly. Oh My God, he’s fucking huge!
His blazing eyes bore into mine. Hand full of my ass.
“I didn’t-”
“You did.”
His mouth crashes on mine. Hot and rough. His teeth scrape my lip, stinging. Feeling so goddamn good, I hear myself moan. His tongue pushes deep, and I barely get a second to breathe before I’m humming into his mouth. He feels so fucking good. Tastes even better. And the way he smells, how he’s holding me. Like I’m his. At his mercy. Fuck. And how that big dick presses against my body…
“You wanted to play games,” Aslan mutters, dragging his mouth down my neck, and wickedly biting me. “So let’s play.”
His big hand shoves between my thighs, and I gasp as he finds me through my already drenched panties.
“Aslan-”
“So fucking wet,” he rasps. His long, thick fingers stroking me, his breath rough against the shell of my ear. “You’ve been gone for me since the day we met. Haven’t you, baby?”
My body bucks against his hand. I hate how easy it is for him to make me feel this good, this wild. How fast I melt for him.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart,” he rumbles. “Right here. Right now,” he demands.
My breath stutters. My pussy spasming around him, leaking. My breasts swollen, my nipples painfully hard against the thin fabric of my dress. But I push through in a last ditch effort to stand up to him. “You can’t just-”
“I can.” His fingers push deeper, curling just right. Relentless. Making my breathing catch. “And you’re gonna obey me.”
I can’t think. Can’t move. I’m nothing but sensations. A slave to the maddening waves of pleasure coursing through my body. Aslan’s fingers thrusting in and out. His thumb rolling over my clit. His warm breath falling over my skin. Wild indigo eyes burning into mine.
He strokes long and slow, then deep and fast, alternating, watching my face. Kissing, licking and biting my lips. Sucking on my tongue. Praising me. Calling me his good girl, his sassy, his brat. Until I shatter, biting my lip to muffle the ragged cries that spill from my throat. Shaking all over, my legs barely able to carry me, holding on for dear life, my fingers clutching his arms. Lost and found all at once. My orgasm pulsating through my entire body. Going on and on and on, as Aslan’s hand never stops pumping inside me, teasing my g-spot, rolling, rubbing and pinching my clit.
I’m still trembling when his mouth finds my ear after what feels like an eternity.
“Mine,” he mutters darkly. “You’re mine, sassy. No one else touches what belongs to me.”
