“Yuri is taking care of it,” he says in the same matter-of-fact tone.
“Oh. Thank you.” I guess.
Instead of pleasing him, my expression of gratitude seems to upset him. He’s not breaking our eye contact, but a shutter drops in front of his eyes as he says, “There’s no need to thank me.”
Rubbing my arms, I say, “I’ll reimburse you.”
His voice turns hard. “I don’t need your money.”
“I don’t like to feel like I’m taking advantage.”
“Advantage?” He scoffs, lifting a strand of my hair between his fingers. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Why?” I sidestep the touch. “What happened isn’t your fault.”
For a moment, he only looks at me, seeming to wage an internal battle. Finally, he says, “Why did you come to the restaurant tonight? Tell me the truth.”
“I was out at a bar that isn’t far from the restaurant. I happened to walk past and just wanted to see what it looks like when a tycoon hasn’t booked out the whole place.”
He gives me a measuring look. “Out with who?”
I shrug. “Friends.”
“Male friends?”
“Female, not that it’s any of your business.”
His smile is calculated. “Oh, but I intend to make it my business.” He crosses the distance I’ve put between us, the gleam in his eyes predatory. “I’m going to take you to bed again, Katyusha. And again. And while you’re in my bed, you won’t let another man into your body. You won’t even smile at another man. I don’t like to share. Think you can handle that?”
My back hits the wall. I stare up at the hard lines of his face. My heart says no, but my lips don’t form the word. I don’t want him to know how weak he makes me, how vulnerable.
“Good,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.
I splay my palms on his chest. “This isn’t what I want.”
“No?” He raises a brow. “Let me kiss you and tell me again you don’t want me.”
“That’s not fair,” I say on a whisper. He knows the power he wields over me.
Victory shines in his eyes. “Just one little kiss. If you still tell me no, I’ll book you into a hotel.”
“You will?” I hate how breathless I sound.
“Yes,” he says, planting his hands next to my face on the wall. “I promise.”
I steel myself when he brings his mouth lower, but when he brushes his lips over mine, yearning spreads through my body. I couldn’t summon enough willpower to push him away even if I wanted to. His touch is too potent. Sparks ignite under my skin as he traces the curve of my lips with his tongue and sucks gently to mold my mouth to his rhythm.
However hard I try, I can’t be unaffected. He knows this, and he’s using it to his advantage, but I can’t bring myself to care, not when he slides his tongue into my mouth and sweeps it over my own. Just like that, my resolve goes up in flames, especially when he slips a hand between our bodies and cups my sex over my jeans.
Shamelessly, I arch my hips into his palm, craving more friction. He doesn’t hesitate. He delivers, rubbing the heel of his palm in a circular motion. My toes curl from the pleasure. Heat coils through my insides, hard and fast. He groans into my mouth as I grab the lapels of his fancy waistcoat, holding him to me as if my life depends on it. The cold of earlier is gone, the pain much less. My head is still throbbing a little, but the discomfort takes a back seat to the endorphins drenching me in a deliriously happy glow.
It’s temporary, Kate, my mind whispers, but I shut it down. I’m too lost in the moment, too needy for release to let logic derail me. My body dictates my moves. When he pushes a thigh between my legs, I rub against him. He triples the intensity of his assault on my mouth, not by violent and frantic kissing, but by pleasuring my mouth with slow, meticulous precision, turning me into putty in his hands. He abandons my sex to frame my face between his large hands, letting me relieve my ache on the hard muscle of his leg. His hard-on presses against my stomach. I slide a palm over his chest to the hardness under his waistline. His cock is the only remedy that can cure my need.
“What you do to me,” he growls into our kiss.
I don’t resist when he sweeps me off my feet and carries me upstairs, even though I know our destination before he pushes open the bedroom door with a shoulder.
He lays me down gently on the mattress before removing my clothes and quickly undressing himself. I shiver with anticipation when he takes a condom from the nightstand drawer, makes quick work of rolling it on, and crawls over me, igniting every inch of my skin with the naked feel of his.
“How’s your head?” he asks when he reaches my neck, planting soft kisses along the arch.
“Better.” The knock was hard, but not so hard that I’ll have a concussion.
He drags a finger over my throat, fury etched in his features. “He left marks on you.”
“They’ll fade,” I say, cupping his cheek. I don’t want to think about the attack. Not now, and maybe not ever.
“I’ll be careful, but I can’t go slow,” he says with a hint of warning. “Not after what almost happened in that alley.”
I swallow and nod. “Skip the foreplay. I need you now.”
He drags a palm down my body and between my legs. He teases the inside of my folds with a fingertip before tracing my slit. My arousal is slick on his finger. He uses it to lubricate my clit and rub it in lazy circles as he aligns his cock with my opening. Then he pushes forward, carefully stretching me.
The way he fills me is delicious. The slight discomfort from his largeness only makes me burn hotter. I arch my hips, trying to make him move, but he sinks deeper slowly, inch by inch. When he’s buried to the hilt, he pauses, giving me time to adapt. He’s not only inside but also around me, overwhelming each of my senses. His arms are wrapped around my body, his muscular thighs wedged between mine. His weight anchors me, his warmth seeping through my skin to dispel the chill as the spicy, masculine scent of his cologne teases my nostrils. He makes a sound of pleasure in the back of his throat, sending goosebumps over my arms.
When he finally moves, my world falls apart. I sink deep into languid pleasure, so deep I’m scared I may never be able to resurface. I may never be able to come back from this. Chasing away the thought, I cling to him as if he’s a buoy in stormy waters. I hold on like he’s my salvation and the answer to everything. And as long as he’s gently rocking inside me, he is.
The pleasure that’s been building since the foyer starts to unravel in that way that promises closure. Just a little more. Angling my hips, I find the right friction, and when he slides backward and forward over my clit, I come with a cry.
“Yes, Katyusha,” he growls. “Just like that.”
My orgasm pleases him. The possessive look in his eyes tells me that. Holding my gaze, he comes a second later, his cock swelling even thicker and every muscle in his body locking tight.
When he’s spent, he catches his weight on his arms and kisses me like he hasn’t just explored the depths of my mouth. He kisses me like it’s our first time, and I fall a little more for him. Kissing has always been my weakness, and I appreciate a man who knows how to use his lips.