Page 26 of Merciless Queen

“Whoareyou?” I murmur, a question he’s not intended to answer, but one more for me. They’re my wondering thoughts spoken aloud as this stranger from another country appeals to a certain side of me, based on the little I know of him anyway.

Instead, I kiss him again, releasing his hands to stroke down his chest until reaching the top button of his shirt and undoing it. With every lash of my tongue, every rub against his lap, I undo another button until his chest is bared.

Thankfully, the minutes pass quickly and the car eventually slows, stops altogether, and then the gentle vibration beneath us snaps off. I drag my mouth away from Zeno’s, glancing out to the side window, noticing we have arrived home.

“Come with me.”

I climb off him and am out the door, already heading toward the front entrance. Since it’s nearing midnight, the details of my property remain shrouded by darkness, a fact I’m always pleased about. Papa purposely never erected many lamps outside because he felt it was better for our privacy; one of a few of his opinions I’ve agreed with.

Zeno whistles low behind me. “Seems I wasn’t far off the mark then? Company CEO, I’m guessing?”

“Something like that,” I reply, keeping my tone casual. No need for the Italian tourist to truly know whose bed he’s about to get fucked in.

He follows me inside where only a single light’s been left on, as staff are instructed to do before exiting for the night. Papa used to pack this place with soldiers monitoring every inch, but I dismissed most of them upon taking over, never feeling the need to have so many people on the property at all times of the day. They make better use of my money by doing their actual jobs and not standing pointlessly around my home, reminding me of a time when Papa constantly had his minions stalking me,“protecting me,” when all they were really doing was reporting my every step, breath, and probably, piss, to him.

Now, there’s a couple on the ground’s perimeter, since only myself and my Elite live here. Dimitri, as he often is, is presently in North America, doing whatever he does there, and Lev’s either out for the night or locked away in his room. I get the sense that Anastasia is still downtown, deciding which man’s home they’ll take their party to.

I grasp Zeno’s hand and drag him up the stairs, rushing down long hallways until finally reaching my suite. I open the door and all but shove him inside, closing the door and leaning against it, watching as he takes in the large space.

He turns around right away, coming back to me, his hands cupping my hips. He kisses me until I lose my breath again and nudge him away.

“On the bed,” I command, stricken with just how breathless he’s making me.

Zeno bites his bottom lip, which I find sexier than I should, and instead trails a finger down the inside of my right arm, stopping at my wrist where he traces a light circle over my palm. “I have a better idea.”

“You’re not here to think.” It doesn’t come out as firm as I planned. A curiosity instead takes over, until I’m wondering what exactly his plan is, considering his expression makes my core tighten and my stomach clench.

“I’m not,” he agrees. “I’m here to obey, right? To give you pleasure. To fuck your sweet cunt until you’re sated.”

Proklyatiye.Damn.

I prefer obedience. I prefer men who listen, and any I bring home, do so immediately and without thought. Zeno’s defiance should annoy me rather than fascinate me, but I’m curious where he’s going with this: what his “better idea” is.

Still, I argue, finding myself countering his latest statement with, “Which is exactly what you’ll be doing in my bed.”

The first time a man tried to pin me down, climb on top of me, and fuck me into his bed, I almost threw up. The concept of not being in control, even during sex, horrified me. I was dry and unsatisfied afterwards and the fucker somehow blamedmethat I wasn’t “appreciating” his efforts.

Other sexual encounters after that one, I tested out different dynamics. Found partners willing to be a part of my experiment and learned what truly gets me off, which is a man’s submission.

Zeno doesn’t turn toward my bed. Instead, eyes locked on mine, he trails a finger down my cheek, my neck, over the curves of my breasts, and along the dress’s material. He hooks into the ribbon tying my top together, fiddling with the edge before continuing downwards, eventually stepping back from me altogether.

And then he lowers to his knees and asks the most damning question he ever could.

“How can I serve you?”

There’s a few people—deadand alive—who’d be appalled to see me on my knees in front of a Volkov,especiallydoing what I’m about to.

I’m inside her stronghold. She’s hiding her exact identity from me, and has no idea I’m well aware who she is, which means I’ve succeeded on every level of my plan. Now that we’re alone, it’s simply a matter of finishing the job.

If I were to obey her command and head for her bed, she’d likely drop her defensive walls. The two knives I have strapped beneath my clothing are easily accessible, and if she has a shred of logic in her beautiful head—which if the past is indicative, she does—then she’s also bound to have a weapon beneath her mattress or somewhere nearby.

Instead, I’m doing none of that. I tell myself it’s to get her to lower her guard even more. Get her naked, fuck her, and catch her in her post-sex haze when she’s weakest. Or even when she’s passing out, exhausted.

So I play her game and lower to my knees in front of her, picturing her as any other woman. The harder I try to replaceher dark hair with lighter strands, eyes less malicious, and with the face of my last fuck from a couple months ago, it’s seemingly impossible. Vanessa is, as much as it pains me to admit this about a Volkov, way too fucking sexy.

Sexy and tempting. Appealing to me in ways so few women are, right down to her need to dominate during sex. I should have seen it coming; the woman who fights every day to prove herself must always be in control, especially during this level of vulnerability.

Unfortunately, that’s entirely too enticing for someone like me who enjoys both. Breaking away from my usual persona and handing myself over to another’s control is gratification in itself, but other times, I enjoy putting my partner to her knees as well.

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