He doesn’t speak. He just sinks his finger into me and pumps hard, causing me to collapse with my head against his chest. He inclines his fingers, rubbing his thumb against my clit as his fingers hit a spot that causes stars to burst behind my eyes.
“Oh,” I cry. “Please.”
The man grabs my jaw. “Oh yes,krasavitsa.” His voice is like gravel against my skin. “Beg.”
The Laurent pride almost refuses, but the other desperate part of me accepts the challenge, eager for an orgasm.
“Please. Please. Please.”
“You beg so prettily,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned my cock.”
I gasp when he yanks his hand out of me and unsnaps his belt buckle, yanking it out of his pants. He slides his zipper down, the whole time not letting me look away from his intense eyes.
When he frees his cock, he pulls my jaw down to look at it. My eyes widen with shock. I’ve never seen a cock so beautiful in my life. Hanging at just the right size, veiny, thick.
The stranger takes one of my legs and wraps it around his powerful thighs, then he grabs his cock, pumps it a few times, and slams into me in one thrust.
I scream, no longer caring if anyone finds me here. He’s so big, he stretches me out, which isn’t a surprise since I’ve only been with one person before this. I don’t have the type of experience for a man like this, but I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy it.
He braces one hand against the wall and begins to thrust into me, his eyes darkening into molten silver, an expression of desire on his face.
Our gazes lock, and he doesn’t let me look away as he pounds me against the wall like a slut. This is crazy. This is stupid. This is beautiful.
I’m so close. So, so close.
His hand cups my breast against my dress, and he leans down to pepper kisses down my neck. The sensation is strong, and an orgasm slams into me so powerfully that I almost crumple to the dirty floor. He grabs my waist and holds me up while slamming into me a few more times before his orgasm takes over him.
He lets out a guttural groan and yanks himself out of me, bracing both hands against the sides of my face as the passion wracks through him. I watch him with wonder as he finally regains his composure and looks at me.
His eyes soften, and I hold my breath. He’s about to ask who I am, who my father is, maybe ask me out on a date. I’m going to say no, of course. This is embarrassing. I should never have done this, even though it was the best sex of my life.
The man doesn’t speak. Instead, he takes several steps back, adjusting his cufflinks and then pushing his hair back with a smile. The smile is so cold, I freeze.
“Next time,” he drawls. “Try not to look so desperate to be ruined.”
Then he walks away without a backward glance, leaving me feeling embarrassed and discarded like a deck of cheap cards. I stare after him, my eyes fixed on the corridor long after he’s disappeared, my heart bruised. I may not know this bastard’s name, but his face isn’t one I’ll ever forget. I swear, whenever I have the chance, I’ll make him pay!
Chapter 1 – Dimitri
New York looks better when it’s beneath me.
From the floor-to-ceiling windows of my Manhattan office, the skyline glitters—cold steel, endless ambition, a city built on hunger. My kind of place. My kind of altitude. Power feels different when it’s measured in stories above the ground.
I’m finishing an encrypted message on my laptop when the door opens without a knock.
Only one person is allowed to do that.
Sylvester Marco steps in—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, dressed in a tailored black suit that hides his weapons but not his purpose. He says nothing as he approaches. He simply sets a thick file onto my desk and steps back, gloved hands folding neatly behind him.
He’s my second-in-command. My most lethal blade.
I push my laptop aside and take the file.
The first thing I notice is the weight. The second—the stamp.
Laurent Banking & Holdings. Confidential Quarterly Report Restricted Access.
My fingers drum once along the edge.
