"You will." His hand comes up to rest on the other side of my head, caging me in as he presses his hips down against mine. I feel the hard weight of his cock digging into me, evidence of the strength of his arousal. Desire jolts through me, and I fight to keep from tilting my hips up into him, grinding against the cock that I know feels so fucking good. "You agreed, and you lost. And deep down, you want this as much as I do."
"I don't—" My voice is feeble.
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice sharpens. “ I know what you want. And I know you're terrified to admit it."
He's right. I shudder, another pulse of arousal rippling through me. But I can't do this. I can't just?—
"The rules were clear," he says, his voice softening slightly. "I caught you. You're mine. Now show me."
Tears blur my vision. If I do this, if I give myself pleasure while he watches, without him starting it… it feels like a line I can’t come back from. Like I’m crossing that final bastion to giving in to him completely.
"No." The word comes out as barely a whisper. “Just take what you want. You won, so take it. Don’t make me… give it to you.”
Something darkens in his expression. He reaches into his jacket, and when his hand comes back, he's holding a gun.
My blood turns to ice.
He raises the gun slowly, deliberately, until the barrel is pressed against my temple. The metal is cold, so cold, and I can feel myself starting to shake uncontrollably.
"I'm going to ask you a question," he says, his voice deadly calm. "And you're going to tell me the truth. Not what you think you should say. Not what you wish were true. The truth. Do you understand?"
I can't speak. My lungs feel as if they’re seizing from a sudden, terrified inability to breathe. I just nod, feeling the gun press harder against my skin.
"Do you want me?" he asks. "I’m not asking about being kept in the penthouse, or how you feel about the morality of it all, or the fact that I won’t let you leave. Do you wantme, Mara?"
Tears are streaming down my face now. "Please?—"
"The truth." The gun doesn't waver. "I won't fuck you if you don't want me. I won't touch you again if this isn't what you need. But I will not stand for you lying to me any longer. Not about this. So tell me the truth. Do you want me?"
The question hangs in the air between us, terrible and inescapable. I could lie. Could tell him no, that I want nothing to do with him. And maybe he'd believe me. Maybe he'd let me go. Maybe I could convince him… but I don’t think I could, because it would be a lie. And he’d know.
I can tell the truth, or…
Do I really think he’ll pull the trigger? I’m not sure. I still don’t truly think, after all of this, that he’d kill me. But I feel something coming unfurled inside of me, some last thread of control fraying, and I know I can’t fight this any longer.
Because right now, all I want is for him to yank down my jeans and thrust that hard cock that I feel digging into my thigh inside of me. I want him to make me scream until the sound of it echoes through this fucking warehouse.
And part of me wants him to do it while he keeps the gun to my head, because it’s scaring me to death, and I’ve never been more aroused.
“Yes,” I whisper, the word breathless and desperate. “Yes, I… I want you. I do. I?—”
"Then show me.” His voice is rough, tinged with the same desperation. "Touch yourself. Let me see what you look like when you give in to what you want."
My hands are shaking as I reach for the button of my jeans. This is insane. This is wrong. This is?—
This is what I want.
I can feel the reality of it sinking in as I unzip my jeans, pushing them down my hips, down to my knees. Ilya’s gaze darkens as he rises to his knees, rocking back on his heels with the gun held at his side, his eyes fixed between my thighs.
“Open your legs,” he murmurs hoarsely. “As far as they’ll go. Pull your panties to one side, spread yourself for me…fuck,kotenok, just like that…”
I see the heat in his eyes as I obey, the wanton, desperate lust on his face, and a sense of power ripples through me. I’m half-naked on a warehouse floor with a mob boss between my thighs, a gun in his hand, and yet… I feel powerful. Because I’ve driven him to this. His need for me, his desire, has made him this way… only for me.
I spread the folds of my pussy open, rubbing my index finger over my swelling clit. A moan slithers past my lips, my eyes closing as pleasure sparks over my skin, and I feel the heavy metal of the gun barrel tap against my knee.
“Open your eyes,” Ilya commands. “Keep them on me, Mara.”
I feel a gush of arousal, my fingers slipping as I rub my clit faster. I want to come, the need tightening low in my stomach, and the hunger in his face only makes it worse.
