“Oh, shit,” Michael murmured, as Vitya shook his head at me. I didn't have much time to study their reaction though, because in a second, the sound of a glass breaking penetrated my consciousness, and I shifted my focus back to Dominic and noticed the glass in his hand was broken as his eyes filled with fury.
“Enough.” In one swift move, he stood up, freed my hands, unfastened my seatbelt, picked me up, and darted to the secluded cabin at the end of the plane.
With all my might, I started to hit his back. “Let me go, you crazy man.” He slapped my ass, and I had to bite my lip not to moan in pleasure.
Because any touch from the man brought nothing but deep desire inside me.
Finally, he reached the room, opened it up, closed it with his foot, and immediately pressed me against the wall. We both breathed heavily as my legs circled his waist, and my fingers laced through his hair.
“You had to go and make me crazy.”
Leaning forward, I licked the seam of his lips, and he growled, opening his mouth and capturing mine with his.
The kiss curled my toes as our passion collided in a soul-searching duel. Our tongues entwined, and the press of his erection against my core made me whimper as he let go of me. “You allowed another man to touch what’s mine.” The steel didn't leave his eyes as he ripped open the front of my dress, giving him a perfect view of my lacy push-up bra that displayed my breasts quite nicely.
“I need to get you out of the clothes you wore forhim,”he growled, and his words snapped me out of my frenzy.
As I tugged on his hair painfully, he finally raised his eyes to me. “I wore them for you.” The amber of his eyes became almost black, probably from the possessiveness that overshadowed them.
His hands hiked my dress up, pushing my panties to the side, and then three of his fingers entered me as his lips latched onto my nipple. My head hit the door as pleasure and pain overpowered me.
How could I resist this man, pakhan or not, if he freaking played my body like a musician did an instrument?
“My pussy. Mine and no one else’s.”
Tangling my hand in his hair, I tugged on it with enough force for him to lift his head and connect our mouths together once again, but this time, owninghismouth, savoring the taste and groaning in pleasure. I whimpered when he took away his fingers, brought them to my lips, coated with my essence, and slowly licked it away as the tip of his tongue traced the outline of my lips. The touches sent jolts of electricity through my entire body. Wrapping my thighs tighter around him, I urged him to push his hard, clothed cock more firmly against me, as the sensations were unbearable, when a loud knock interrupted us.
“No, no!” I cried out, hugging him closer. Seriously, after this shitty day, I deserved an orgasm! We breathed heavily as he caressed my cheeks, and he barked to the door, “Unless someone is dying, you can go fuck yourself, Vitya.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t.” The voice held traces of worry and resignation, and we both paused. Then Dominic placed me on the floor until I could stand without wobbling, gave me a short peck on the lips, and ordered, “Stay here. Sleep. Rest. Do whatever you want. But don’t leave the room.” He took off his shirt and covered me with it. “Wear it. No one sees what belongs to me.” With that, he walked outside to discuss whatever problem arose.
Lying down on the bed, I studied the ceiling as a decision sank in. Dominic represented power, dominance, safety, protection—everything I could have ever wanted or wished for in a man. Being in a relationship with him would never be convenient, but with clarity, I understood he’d never let me go. He might never push me into sex, but I’d never be able to be rid of him.
Although he lacked the intensity Damian had, they both shared the same DNA and obsession toward the women they considered theirs. When push came to shove, my choice was nonexistent. I could either play the victim in this scenario, turning our lives into hell, or accept it and mold him to the idea of a relationship I had for us.
Closing my eyes, my body still burned from our make-out session.
Dominic Konstantinov was the pakhan of the Bratva. And I’d finally decided to accept his claim, even though no one asked me in the first place.
Man with the dragon tattoo
A warm blanket was draped over my shoulders as I sipped water while paramedics checked my pulse and shouted for someone to get more help, because the house had a lot of victims. The firemen struggled with the blazes and did their best to put them out while cops took statements from anyone uninjured.
They counted bodies, no survivors so far.
Fuck, this called for a whole bottle of champagne along with few illegal whores sucking my cock. Soon.
A shout from one of the firefighters snapped me from my dreams. “One man alive.” Medics rushed in the direction of Rosa’s room, or rather what used to be her room, as my ears struggled to understand who they found. “Two men breathing, actually.” With adrenalin pumping in my blood, I dropped the blanket and followed them. In all this panic, no one would notice how much I faked my injury.
Two gurneys came from the back of the house with paramedics moving as fast as possible, while IV drips were attached to both men’s hands and breathing masks were placed over their noses and mouths.
Rising on my toes, they passed by me like lightning, but not before I had the time to check out their faces.
Don.
Fucking Don was alive, along with that fuckup, Lorenzo.
The desire to roar in rage had to be pushed down deep. I feared a vein would rupture in my neck because I strained so much.
