“You,”I gasp, the word punched out of me on his next savage thrust. “You own it, fuck.” The truth is, he owns me. As much as I protested and snarled when I had to sign the contract, this man owns all of me.
My body. My heart. My soul.
“That’s right, baby.” His voice is wrecked with lust, but still so dominant, so in control. He pounds into me harder, the heavy drag of his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes. “My wife. MyRoza. Walking aroundwith my cum still inside you from this morning and thinking you could wear pretty panties to cover up what belongs to me? No. I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll feel me leaking down your thighs the entire gala. Every time you sit down, you’ll remember who ruined this pussy right before you left.”
His hand on my neck slides up slightly, tilting my head to the side so he can bite down on the junction of my shoulder, sucking my skin while he keeps slamming into me.
The mirror shows everything. My flushed face. My breasts jiggling with every brutal thrust, his powerful body behind me, muscles flexing as he claims me completely.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, voice dropping into that thick Russian accent that always undoes me. “Even after I’ve fucked you so many times, this cunt still grips me like it’s trying to keep me inside forever. My virgin wife’s greedy pussy who learned to take my cock so well.”
I whimper at the reminder, at the filthy pride in his voice. My walls flutter around him, and he laughs darkly, low and satisfied.
“You like when I talk dirty, don’t you,Roza? Like when your husband tells you he’s going to wreck this pussy before you go smile for strangers.” His one hand tightens the grip on my neck, the other sliding down to rub tight, merciless circles over my swollen clit. “Come on my cock, wife. Come while I’m balls-deep inside you. I want to feel this cunt milk me before I fill you up.”
I can’t hold back. The pressure builds fast, with the sensations overpowering me. His cock stretching me open, his fingers on my clit, his dirty words pouring into my ear, the possessive grip on my wrists. My orgasm crashes over me like a wave, ripping aloud, broken scream from my throat as my pussy clamps down around him in pulsing waves.
“Fuck, yes,” he snarls, slamming into me even harder through my climax, chasing his own release. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl coming so hard for me. Going to fill this married cunt now. Going to pump you so full of my cum you’ll be dripping when I escort you into that ballroom.”
He buries himself to the hilt one last time and comes with a guttural roar, hips jerking as thick, hot spurts flood deep inside me. I feel every pulse, every rope of his cum marking me, claiming me. His hand stays on my neck the whole time, holding me in place while he empties himself.
We stay like that for a long moment. His cock still buried inside me, twitching with aftershocks, his chest pressed to my back, both of us breathing hard. He finally eases his grip on my neck and turns my face to the side so he can kiss me, deep and filthy, tongue stroking mine like he’s still fucking me with it.
When he pulls out, I feel the immediate rush of his cum leaking down my thighs. He watches it in the mirror with dark satisfaction, then reaches down, swiping the moisture up my thigh and pushes two thick fingers back inside me, forcing it deeper.
“Don’t clean up,Roza,” he murmurs, voice rough but tender now beneath the dominance. “I want you walking around tonight knowing exactly who you belong to. My wife. My beautiful, well-fucked wife.”
He kisses my shoulder, and then helps me stand on shaky legs, turning me to face him. His eyes are softer now, but the possessiveness is still there, burning bright. “Fix your makeup,baby,” he says, thumb brushing my swollen bottom lip. “We’ve got a gala to attend. But later tonight?” He leans in, lips against my ear. “I’m claiming that greedy pussy again, reminding you it is mine. Only mine, no other has or ever will touch it.”
I nod, breathless, already aching for more.
8. GALA FUNDRAISER
ALEXEI
The car slows before the curb, and I realize I’m holding my breath. “Relax,” I mutter, mostly to myself, butRoza’ssmall, amused snort tells me she heard.
I glance sideways. She’s staring out the window at the hotel façade, the marble columns, the crowd of people in black and gray, and the occasional splash of color. Her mouth is slightly parted, eyes wide, like she’s trying to take everything in at once.
“You’re going to be fine,” I say.
“I’m not worried aboutme,” she says, turning toward me. “I’m worried aboutyou. You’re the one whose face breaks if he has to smile. And Liza is going to want you to smile tonight. She needs her donors happy so they’ll write big checks.”
I don’t even have to fake the heavy groan leaving my lips.
That makes her smile, the kind of smile that starts in her eyes and spreads slowly, turning her face from beautiful to dangerous. I look away before I say something stupid like, I love how you look at me.
The car door opens. The driver steps aside, the night air cutting in, cool and smelling vaguely of expensive cologne. I get out first, then turn to help her.
She takes my hand.
It’s such a small thing. Just skin on skin, her fingers curling around mine. We were much more intimate less than an hour ago, but the gesture sends something sharp and warm through my chest. “Ready?” I ask.
“Is it too late to say no?” she asks, but she’s already climbing out of the car.
I give her a half -smile. “You’re already wearing the dress, so it seems a shame not to go. But I’m always willing to return home so I can get you out of it and have another taste of what we did in the bathroom earlier.” I lean closer, my breath caressing her ear. “Do you want that? Do you want me inside you again?”
She blushes and laughs. But then lifts her chin and straightens her posture. Her dress is dark blue and looks plain until she moves and it clings to her luscious curves.
