Sure, there was more to it than my view on some voodoo curse blackening the family name.
Maybe to some it was no big deal that I’d brought Lainey to my house. However, anyone who knew me well realized even bringing a woman into my world, sharing dinner with her was a break in my personality and habits.
Because of my wife.
I’d always been a private man. Our entire family had been brought up to be very careful who we allowed in, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. There were the obvious reasons such as danger to the other person, anyone we cared about considered a weakness. Then there was the sad comprehension that there were hundreds of people who’d falsify who they were and their feelings for a taste of the good life.
We were wealthy.
We had power and influence.
Just by being associated with individuals we’d skyrocketed careers and bank accounts. I’d had my share of beautiful scammers attempting to become cozy over the years, but I’d easily been able to shove them aside, seeing right through them. I’d had no feelings whatsoever, only fulfilling my carnal needs with a trusted individual who understood from the onset that I wanted nothing to do with them personally.
Not a date.
Not a drink over candlelight.
Not a phone call.
And certainly zero time spent inside my house.
It was sacred to me, a safe haven, somewhere that allowed me to wallow in my sorrow even after all these years. I’d become good at doing so, creating an art form. While my brothers used to tease or push me into breaking the mold, they’d finally stopped trying. What was the point? I was set in my ways and happy about it.
Only it had been a very long time since I’d felt happiness.
Maybe that was the reason Lainey was in my house and now in my bed. I’d felt some crazy kind of joy through her performances and the few times we’d conversed. Talking with her was easy. Protecting her from the two dickheads who treated her like property had been easy.
The rest? As I peered at her, the warm glow of light highlighting her soft features, it felt as if she’d always been here.
With her hair splayed out on the sheets and the way her lips were pursed in a blatant invitation, my cock ached more than ever before. I’d wanted nothing more than to ravage her and had. Now I wanted to take my time.
As I’d told her before, she was going nowhere.
At least not yet.
I crawled onto the bed, taking my time to plant one hand beside her before the other. Her arms were over her head, her eyes laced with intoxicating lust. She was feeling exactly the same way I was, a need that could possibly never be satisfied.
“You’re so gorgeous,” I said, which I’d done before. As I’d seen when I’d spoken the words before, she blushed a deep crimson shade that only accentuated her beauty. “You’re not used to hearing that.”
She shook her head. “At least not from anyone who matters.”
Chuckling, I used one knee to open her legs. She didn’t stop me, allowing a soft moan to slip past her lips instead. “So I matter?”
“I think you do.” She placed her hand on my chest, immediately kneading my skin and muscles. Every time she touched me a jolt of electric current flowed directly into my bones. The sensations were extraordinary. When she brushed her hand through my long hair, a smile curled on her face.
“Well, then I’ll need to tell you the truth more often.” What her life must be like. She had all the fame in the world, something young girls everywhere dreamt about, yet there was so much sadness in her eyes. When I looked in them, I saw parts of myself. Anger. Grief. An inability to connect to other people.
Maybe we were just two broken souls.
The way she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip was adorable, but she wasn’t doing so to entice me this time. She was being natural, anxious and uncertain yet eager to continue the moment we were sharing. That’s why I wanted to take my time and make the experience special. Maybe so she could keep the memory locked away all to herself on cold, lonely nights.
Just like I would.
The hunger was significant, my balls heavy. As she brushed her fingertips down my chest, darting a look into my eyes before rolling her index finger around my cockhead, I grinned. Even in the heat of the moment I still felt as if we’d been together for a very long time. How was that even possible?
Leaning over, I hovered just above her beautiful face, the few inches allowing me to still see the shimmer in her eyes.
“You’re amazing, Sasha Dmitriyev.” She added a Russian accent when saying my name. The bad boy was still inside me because I wanted her to scream out my name when I filled her with my cock.
