Before I can stop him, he rips off my panties and drops the pale pink satin to the shower floor making it appear crumpled and sad.
“I liked those.” I place a hand over my lady parts to try and maintain some semblance of modesty that Sasha is determined to break me of.
Sasha reaches above my head drawing closer. His dark spice tingles in my nose and I breathe him in.
“I like them better off. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a hundred more pairs.” He pops the lid on the bottle he’s holding and squeezes out a gel into one hand.
He rubs the two together, lathering it before massaging it into my shoulders and skin. His touch is heavenly, and I clench my jaw in an attempt to stop my moan of pleasure.
“Only a hundred?”
Our eyes track each other under the rhythmic waterfall of the shower and he continues to wash me, not leaving any area untouched. Soon it’s not just the shower warming me. My cheeks bloom with a mixture of desire and embarrassment. Sasha doesn’t waste time and moves in closer, tipping my head back. His fingertips trace my brows and his thumbs make their way down my neck and over my collarbones like I’m porcelain and precious.
“To start.” He dips down and puts his lips on mine.
He sucks gently, licking the space I yield to him. Unsure what to do with my hands, I place them on his chest. He takes them in his grip and raises my arms overhead, threading his fingers through mine as he deepens the kiss and brings me under the fall of water. His knee rests between my legs, and I rub myself against it. The coarse hair on his thigh tickles my core sparking my arousal.
“Sasha,” I moan between nipping kisses.
Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be here with this man after he threatened my dad and stole me away.
“Solnishko,” he growls, rubbing his thick hard cock against my belly.
He perches the other leg on the bench behind me and leans in, one hand loosening his hold on mine. He grips his engorged flesh, pumping himself up and down, and presses his head into my shoulder. His groans match the force of his pulls. Some inexplicable urge rises up inside me.
I want to be the one bringing Sasha pleasure.
“C–can I touch you?” I tug my hands from his grip and he releases me.
Once I’m free, sudden shyness takes over. I don’t know what to do. I’m sure my blush reaches my toes.
He lets go of his straining shaft, the flared head deeper purple in hue, places my hand in his, and wraps it over his intimidating girth. I swallow with trepidation. He firms his hold and molds me to him. My free hand reaches for his waist and slides down his muscular backside, tugging him closer. Our foreheads touch and both of our gazes are locked downward as I pump him slowly under his guidance.
“Yes,” he encourages.
I squeeze him, testing my limits, and then my finger slides over his slit. Sasha’s cock pulses under my thumb. He growls and takes my hand that graces his rear and cups it to his balls. I gently make a juggling motion and he spreads his legs wider, crowding me against the wall.
“Soon I want your lips sucking me dry.” He jerks his hand over mine, increasing the speed.
In seconds, he spurts into my palm and continues, at what feels like minutes, emptying himself. Sasha finishes at last but apparently isn’t done with me. He picks me up and my legs instinctively wrap around him. He presses me into the tiled wall to devour my lips once again. I thread my fingers through his hair, clenching them tight, preparing to make him bald if he tries to stop kissing me.
“Easy.” He nuzzles my neck and pulls my arms and legs from around his body. He reaches around me and adjusts the water.
“You stopped.”
He clearly wants me, so why does he keep stopping? It only leaves me more confused.
“For now.”
I open my mouth, but Sasha cups his hand over it and gives me a look that says to keep my mouth shut. Impulsively, I lick it. His eyes narrow, making promises for later. He grabs another bottle, squirts the liquid in his hand, and proceeds to wash my hair, gently massaging my scalp. I sigh with pleasure. Then he tips my head back, carefully rinsing the shampoo out before repeating the process with conditioner.
Have I ever been cared for so sweetly?
We finish showering and exit the warmth and fog where Sasha dries me just as carefully with a heated towel. He walks naked back into the bedroom with a swagger in his step. I follow.
He opens the closet door, steps inside, and pulls a few things off hangers and out of drawers as I stand in the doorway. Everything is immaculate and has its place. I turn back to the bedroom taking in the expensive sheets and furniture that probably cost more than I’ll make in my lifetime.
“How can you afford all of this?”
Sasha brushes past me and sets his clothes on the bed. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and adjusts himself before pulling up dark gray slacks. Still shirtless, he tosses me one of his dress shirts and resumes dressing. I hold it against me waiting for an answer to my question.
He finishes putting on his shirt and then peels off my towel.
“Sasha.” I cover my body with my hands but it’s no use. He pushes them away, slides the shirt on me, and buttons it up. His eyes take me in as he rolls up the sleeves and stands back.
“Second rule, do not ask questions about my work. It’s safer for you.”
I snort. “I didn’t even know we had a first rule.”
“We will have many, but I’m starting with the easy ones. The first is that you keep our little arrangement to yourself.”
I roll my eyes. “I bet you bugged my phone already.”
“Natalya.” Sasha manhandles me forcing my gaze to his dark gaze and fear trickles back in. “You are mine no matter how we came to be, but I’m not above a few punishments to make sure you follow my rules.”
His eyes demand a response and I nod.
“Otlichno,” he murmurs. “Come. Let’s eat something.”
Sasha leads me out into the living room and stops short, so I bump into him.
“Blyat.”
I peek around him, curious to why he’s cussing.
“Hello, Sasha.” A familiar man sits in one of the chairs in the living room flanked by four other men. All are wearing suits and dark sunglasses.
“What is this? Men in black?” I mumble to myself.
Sasha keeps me behind him, but moves farther into the room and down the step until we stand in front of Aleksei Sokolov, his boss and head of the Bratva. The last time I saw him was a couple years ago at a wedding my family had been invited to. I’d accidentally collided with him and then Dad embarrassed me by scolding me like a child in front of everyone.
There’s an air of boredom surrounding him as he sips clear liquid from a crystal tumbler that I suspect isn’t water despite the fact it’s not even eight a.m.. He sucks on the end of a cigar, blowing acrid smoke up into the air. I put my hand on Sasha’s lower back, and he tenses under my touch. Fear slides in.
“The debt will be satisfied,” Sasha says as though already knowing why the man is here.
“Three million dollars?” His boss scrutinizes me and I shift my weight nervously.
I don’t have a stitch of clothing on underneath this oversized dress shirt and the cool air isn’t helping. What I wouldn’t give for a sweater and some damn jeans.