Page 78 of Violent Pawn

“Yes,” she whispers to my unspoken question. “Yes to all of it. Yes, I want you. Every way, all way.”

The power behind one little word is better than every drop of liquor in the world. She’s better than any bender or high. One little word is all it took to unleash what I’ve been concealing since the beginning.

I drop to my knees and peer up at her as my hands rub up the back of her legs until reaching her thighs, then her hips, where I hook my fingers into her panties. “The sight of you makes me dizzy. The feel of you makes me intoxicated. But the taste of you…” A groan slips from my lips. “The taste of you will make me drunk on a new kind of substance.”

“Nero…”

“Keep saying my name like that, and this won’t last long. I’ll take you right here on the floor and make you moan loud enough that everyone downstairs will hear.” I pause, tilting my head as the thought becomes quite pleasing. “On second thought, maybe I should so they understand.”

That you’re mine now. An inside thought only so I don’t wreck what I’ve earned.

When she remains quiet, I finish tugging her panties down. My eyes flit right to the space between her legs—her lips and the small, trimmed strip of hair—and my mouth waters.

“You’re pretty enough to drive a man wild, Petrov, but this…” I rub the back of my fingers up her leg, over her knee, and continue up her thigh until reaching the dip between her thighs. “This might destroy me. If I wasn’t on my knees already, you’d certainly put me there.”

Her hand drops into my hair, nails scraping lines over my scalp that bring a moan to my throat. She loops her fingers suddenly and grips with enough intensity that my cock hardens.

If a woman were to make me accept her control, of course, Anastasia would be the one. She’ll win for now, because I have means to break down all the ways she truly trusts me.

“That mouth is moving a lot when it could be doing so many other things.”

“Such as?” Eyes on hers, I caress until my thumb slides between her pussy lips to her clit, and she twitches. Her legs inch apart, slowly at first, like she’s resistant. “You think I need to use my mouth in order to make you come? I’ll have you drenching my hand soon enough.”

“Is that a dare?” Her brow ticks up as I circle my thumb harder to encourage those legs to keep opening.

“Depends. Want it to be?”

She won’t back down from a challenge. She’s Anastasia Petrov, and it’d go against her whole personality. My finger slides through her, gathering the wetness that’s pooling between her legs to bring back up to her clit for lubrication.

When her grip in my hair falters, her breath stutters, and I know I’m well on my way to shattering this woman. Lucky for her, being by her feet means quickly gathering the pieces up and putting them back together in a design ideal for myself.

In other words, recreating the exact same Petrov. Because the woman she is presently is the woman for me. The one I want. The one I think about all the fucking time, and as her legs part farther for me, she’s officially sealed this image of her into my head permanently.

Gripping her left thigh, I toss it over my shoulder and open her to my view. Wet and pink, she’s a dream come to life. Saliva builds with the craving to use my mouth on her. A need that supersedes every hankering for liquor.

But I’ll be winning this bet.

“Prettiest fucking pussy on the prettiest girl. Still think I need my mouth to make you come?” I press into her clit, twist my hand, and sink a finger inside her heat.

Darkness consumes her eyes right before they flutter shut. Her grip slides from my head again until she’s cupping my cheek. And then nothing, limp by her side.

“You don’t,” I continue in a low voice. “You won’t say anything because you know I’m right. You’ve done it before, so I don’t know why you think this time would be different. You came so beautifully then, drenching my hand. You can do it again for me.”

I tug my finger from her, rub it against another, and sink both back inside. She stretches to accommodate me and her hips jerk, taking me even deeper. I curl them, spread them, alternate speeds until learning what exactly earns a response.

“Now who’s quiet?” Well, sort of quiet. If we’re not counting her breathy intakes and low moans as she bites her bottom lip.

My eyes shift from her core—only for a moment—to study the rest of her. Darkening skin flushed with heat. Nipples that stand poised for my mouth later. Eyes shut and pouty lips parted.

Just when I think she’s ready for more, I add another finger. She sniffs sharply, stiffens as her core stretches, then immediately relaxes with a low noise that I duplicate. The fucking sight of her will never hold competition. There’s nothing in this world—no drug, landmark, or item—that competes with Anastasia’s pussy stretching around my fingers and dripping juices I’m certain are a new flavour of liquor down my hand.

“Nero…I-I… This isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” I repeat, amused and considering. “Was it fair when you came into my life and destroyed me? Made me unable to do or think of anything but you. Tell me, Ana, is that fair?” She clenches and rocks into me. Hell, I’m not certain she even heard me. “You’re dripping all over my hand. Is that fair? Who’s gonna clean up all this mess?”

“You. When you realize I won’t come like this.”

The dare darkens. She’ll come. She’ll come screaming when she does. She’s lying to both of us if her breathing and core clamped around me is any indication.