Page 28 of Dancing With Desire

“Thank you,” I almost whisper as I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. A tendril of hair falls into my face, and he reaches over, placing the loose curl behind my ear. I smile shyly. “What time do you finish?”

He’s about to reply when a hand reaches over me, grabbing his wrist and bending it backwards.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” Dmitry’s voice breaks the mood, and I sigh, glancing to my left to see his angry face. The barman stutters, too stunned to be able to form a proper sentence. Dmitry pushes back on his wrist sharply and a sickening snapping sound fills the air. The man screams in pain, and the room around us falls silent. “Touch her again and I’ll snap more than your fucking wrist,” he warns, pushing the man away from him. “Nobody touches what’s mine,”

I place my hand on Dmitry’s shoulder gently, and he turns to me. His eyes burn with rage, and his jaw ticks in anger. “What’s yours?” I repeat, adding a cold laugh. I lean closer to his ear. “I’m not yours, Dmitry.”

A low growl emits from deep in his chest, and I grin, enjoying pushing his buttons, just like when we first met. “Mykrasota, do not test me. You can keep fooling yourself into thinking you don’t belong with me, but we both know deep down that you are mine and I am yours.” He’s so close, I can practically hear his heartbeat, but I’m not upset. In fact, his little show of dominancehas had the opposite effect, so when he swoops down and throws me over his shoulder, I don’t bother to fight him.

He marches from the room with me dangling down his back like a ragdoll. The people around us are now silent, watching the show unfold, and when I lift my head, I spot Vivian and Vladimir watching us. I give them a little wave as the door closes.Welcome back, Tori,I mentally praise myself.

DMITRY

The barman islucky it’s only his wrist that’s broken and he doesn’t have a bullet in his skull. Seeing that fucker reaching over and touching mykrasotafuelled a jealous rage, and there’s only one way to tame the beast within me right now.

I didn’t care that everyone was watching, or that for once, it was me making a scene and not Victoria. When I threw her over my shoulder, she didn’t protest. That sent a small thrill coursing through me, a glimmer of hope that she wants this as much as I do.

I slam through the bathroom door, and it bangs into the plaster behind it with such force, I’m certain it’s cracked. I slide her down my body, every simple touch sending me into overload. My cock strains against my trousers.

“What do you want, Dmitry?” she asks, challenging me with that glint in her eye, the one she gets when she’s testing me.

Her eyes flick to my lips, and I love that even though she’s trying to hold her composure, I’m having an effect on her. I push her up against the door, my hand resting around her throat.

“Don’t ever let another man touch what belongs to me,” I warn, tightening my grip. “This,” I push my other hand between her legs roughly, and she inhales sharply, “belongs to me.”

She shoves my hand away, but her eyes are full of heat as she lifts herself onto the sink unit. I watch as she slides her dress up, refusing to break eye contact as she slips her hand into her underwear. Her head drops back, and she moans in pleasure before pulling her hand free and sucking her finger into her mouth. “I think you’ll find, Mr. Volkov, that this belongs to me.”

“And this?” I ask, opening the buckle on my belt.

She eyes the bulge in my trousers and cocks her eyebrow before wrapping her leg around me and tugging me closer. Her fingers bat my own away, and she makes quick work of pulling my belt open, followed by my button and zipper.

She releases my erection, wrapping her hand around me and slowly tugging. I rest my forehead against hers, watching the way she expertly touches me. “Jealousy’s a real bitch, isn’t it?” she whispers, and I can’t help but think she’s satisfied with my response.

“You’re going to get some poor fucker killed,” I mutter.

A small moan slips from her lips, and I close my eyes, savouring the sound. She’s moving her hand faster, and if I don’t stop, I’m going to come over her dress like a fucking schoolboy. I run my hands up her thighs, hooking my fingers into her thong and tugging it down her legs. I crouch before her and lift her leg up over my shoulder, inhaling her scent.

I press my tongue to her clit and circle it rhythmically until her thighs shudder against my head, tightening as she climbs higher. I push my finger into her, letting her wetness soak my hand as she comes apart, crying out with pleasure.

I glide up her body and kiss her as if my life depends on it, because in all honesty, right now, it does. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine again.

She sucks on my tongue, tasting herself as her hands push my trousers down to my thighs. Then she circles them around my neck, and I lift her against me, forcing my cock into her.She bites down on my shoulder, wincing as I fill her. I feel her tightening around my cock with each thrust, and then she comes again, and I follow with my own release, pumping every last ounce of me into her.

“I told you . . . mine,” I whisper against the nape of her neck.

I place her back on her feet before crouching before her again, this time to put her thong back in place. I lower her dress and straighten it before standing. She walks over to the counter to look in the mirror as she runs her fingers through her hair.

I approach her from behind and place my arms around her waist, resting my hands on her stomach and admiring the ‘just fucked’ look on her face. She watches my reflection through the mirror then turns to face me. “Mr. Volkov, you’ll have to work a lot harder than a fuck in a public bathroom to win me back.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and places a quick kiss on my lips before heading for the door. She pauses with her hand on the knob. “Dmitry,” she whispers, looking back over her shoulder, “I do love you.” And with that simple declaration, she leaves the bathroom.

I feel like I’ve got whiplash, but at least it’s progress from our last encounter.

Leaving the toilet, I spot Marshall resting against the wall opposite. “Shouldn’t you be watching her?” I ask, straightening my tie.

“There’s a man on her, boss. Several, actually.”

“Like when she went for her interview today? Who was watching her then?” At least he has the audacity to look guilty. “I had to find out from Vivian of all fucking people.”

“She gave me the slip, boss, when I couldn’t find parking. As soon as I parked the car, I waited for her in the building,” he answers, and I shake my head in annoyance. That fucking woman is going to give me heart failure. “And she didn’t tell me about Vivian until way after.”

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