Page 32 of The Red Room

No, my mind doesn’t go blank. It goes completely fucking numb.

He kisses down my breasts, my stomach, and finally, the soft skin of my hips. “Are you going to listen from now on, Natalia?”

I fight the urge to scream out in pleasure and settle for yet another moaning, “Yes.” Do I mean it? No, probably not. But there’s no way in hell I’d actually admit it. Every area his lips meet, my skin radiates like hot coals are set there. I can only imagine what it’d feel like to have his mouth and tongue work lower.

“Good.” His smile returns as I glance down at him. “Now come in my mouth.”

Come … where? Did I hear that right? Was this some language barrier I wasn’t ready—Jesus fucking Christ.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Nik buries his face between my thighs, finding my clit and sucking it between his lips in an instant. Shockwaves barrel through me. Each of my limbs lose strength and control. With graceful flicks of his tongue, the earth tilts on a different, more euphoric axis, blurring the world I’ve known into something so much more delicious.

My breath comes out unevenly, struggling to keep pace with his movements. “Nik—fuck, Nik,” I sputter.

He swirls around my entrance, even straightens his tongue and pushes it inside, nose rubbing against my swelling clit. Ecstasy flickers the lights of the room on and off in my eyes, and my mouth begins to dry from each inward gasp.

“Nik!” My screams of pleasure echo in the club like the halls of a cathedral, and an incredible wetness coats not only my thighs but his face and beard as well.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says when he comes up for air, giving mere moments before he feasts on me, licking my pussy as if it’s the only food he’ll have for weeks. Mouth back to my clit, Nik slips his fingers inside me again, stretching my walls clamped around him.

In. Out. In. His tongue rotating clockwise. Out. Counterclockwise.Fuck.I drape backward, arms sprawling over the bar and knocking over the glasses and bottles in the way. Some shatter behind me, and I couldn’t care less. Neither does Nik. He continues undeterred, mouth working in no way I thought possible. My heart rate sputters, slamming in my chest like a kickdrum. This is my song. My. Fucking. Symphony.

“Come, Natalia,” he demands and resumes taking me over the edge. “Show me how you really taste.”

I moan. I cry. I claw at his arms and grab his hair by the fistful. There’s no turning back now. There’s no stopping the impending explosion tingling every inch of my skin. His lips mold perfectly to my clit, applying just enough pressure to send me plummeting into a primal frenzy.

“Fuck …” A strangled moan escapes me. Tremors throb in my veins, this aftershock working down to my feet propped on his bare shoulders. Each of my toes curl until a cramp forms in both feet. It might hurt if not for the incredible pleasure taking over all of my nerve endings.

He doesn’t stop, though, only thrusts his fingers deeper and swirls his tongue at a faster and more unforgiving rhythm. The climax intensifies somehow, finding a brand-new cliff and dangling my contorted body over the edge like a rag doll. All I can do is sit on the bar and wait for this earthquake destroyingall of Los Angeles in my eyes to cease. But it doesn’t. This was only the beginning, and now, I’m at the fucking epicenter.

I scream again, my voice losing luster. The sound, this final plea, drags out of me as if a piece of soul is taken with it. He growls into my pussy, vibrating every cell determined to find release, and I can do little else than harmonize his sentiment at a higher and more uncontrolled pitch.

“Ahh,” I shriek, this time louder, a rush of wetness making a long-awaited escape. I pant uncontrollably, finding any sort of bearing within reach and clutching onto it while my insides adjust to this newfound sensation. Shudders hit my body at intervals, evenly timed the way a tide might disrupt the shore with each roll inland. I’m simply adrift. Floating without even a door to cling to while everything of the club comes back into focus.

Nik gives my core one final kiss and helps me to sit back up on the bar top. Then, he brings his lips to mine, happy to give me a taste of my arousal wetting his lips. I don’t shy away. No, I kiss him just as hard. Letting him know, if anything, he’s not the only animal here.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you, Natalia,” he says, panting and curling my tangled brown hair behind my ears.

If disobeying this man means the most earth-shattering orgasm I’ve ever had, then I surely won’t be doing anything he tells me to do in the future. The hair he didn’t comb away from my face sticks to the sweat on my forehead, some stinging my eyes as I try to focus on something besides the colorful dots dancing in my vision. My rapid breathing subsides, but my heartbeat still thumps at an odd rhythm.

He caresses my cheek. “You’re burning up. Do you need something to drink?”

I try to respond but a throat clearing from the far end of the bar startles us both. Panic seizes me. I struggle to pull my dress to its rightful place, fighting the top and bottom hem.

Shit, how long was he there? How much did he see?It’s bad enough my tits are out and on full display, but now I have to worry about everything else being visible to our unexpected guest. The giant of a man hunches forward on the bar, his large forearms flexing and fingers interlocked.

“If you’re offering drinks, brother,” Viktor says, his hardened glare set on Nik. “Better make it two.”

SIXTEEN

The hairs onmy neck rise. Embarrassment creeps over my skin, adding goose bumps to my arms and a disgusted shiver down my spine. Viktor, both taller than Nikolai and near double in muscular width, sucks air between his teeth and steps forward.

“Viktor,” Nik says, grabbing his shirt from the ground and slinging it over his taut shoulder. “Vernulsya tak skoro?”

Viktor waves at him dismissively. “Let’s not be rude to our guest, big brother. No reason to talk in the old language.”

I glance at Nik, curious about not only what he said, but why he didn’t want me to understand it. For some reason, whenever these two communicate, it’s always in Russian. It’s like Nik is hiding something from me, or hiding what his brother has to say from me.

“Father sends his best,” Viktor continues and folds his hands behind his back. I’m not even sure how he can manage to do so with how big his arms are. The shirt stretches first at his barrel-sized chest, then his shoulders, ready to burst around hismonstrous physique. “He was … disappointed you couldn’t make it back.”

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