Page 84 of Claimed By Desire

I push back against his cock, and when I whimper he spanks me ass hard and pulls my hair.

“Too loud,” he warns, thrusting in hard.

I’m right on the edge already. His hand covers my mouth, and I moan into his palm as he fucks me faster.

“That’s right, baby, take me, you dirty girl,” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. Every inch of my body’s on fire. My nerves jangle with heat for him. “You’re so fucking bad, let ting me fuck you like this. You’re soaking wet and taking my thick, bare cock, moaning like my personal little slut, and you love that, don’t you? You love that you’re going to get caught.”

I moan his name, over and over, and I can’t handle any more. He thrusts again, again, and I spread my legs and lean forward, moaning into the comforter as I explode on his shaft. It’s the most intense orgasm of my life, and by the time it finishes my body’s tingling and my vision’s blurry, and I have only seconds before he drags me by thee hair, turns me around, and strokes himself to completion all over my breasts.

I lay there, breathing hard and staring at him, half in shock and half in bliss, as he glides his fingers through his cum and pushes them into my mouth. I protest, but he pushes them deeper, and he makes me lick them clean while staring at me the whole time.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers. “Such a good girl. All mine. All fucking mine.”

I’m a sweat, satisfied mess when he’s finally finished, just like he promised I would be.

We stay like that for a little while before he gets a damp towel from the bathroom and cleans me off. He’s smiling as he does it and peppers me with soft kisses. I’ve never seen him like this before as he lavishes me with attention and praise, and even asks about my piano playing. I tell him about writing the songs, about how my process works, and after a while I barely even remember that he just ripped into me and gave me some of the best and dirties sex of my life.

I only notice the bleeding because the comforter is stained.

“Oh, shit, Alex.” I push him onto his back and check the wound on his leg. Sure enough, the stitches broke. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve let you do that.” I grab another clean towel and press it against the wound.

But he doesn’t seem bothered. “You didn’t have much say in the matter, did you?”

“Seriously, that was really, really good, but you have to take it easy.”

“I doubt that’s going to happen. Not while you’re here.”

“Alex—“

“Besides, I went to see Adriano earlier. I could’ve broken them when I was running around.”

I stare at him in surprise. “You did what?”

“We had a nice, productive chat, actually.” He takes the towel and holds it against his leg as he shuffles over to his phone and shoots off a text. “Doctor should be over in a little while to patch me back up.”

“Hold on a second. What happened with Adriano?”

He tells me the story, how he ambushed him outside of the club, and how they made their deal at the bar. The terms of their agreement hang in the air between us and I let them sink into my skin like burning hot coals.

“Lev won’t do it,” I say quietly and start pulling on clothes. “You know he’ll never agree.”

“He’ll do it.”

“Why would he? After what we did? It’s insanely unfair.”

“That’s true.”

“So why would he agree to marry a stranger when I refused to do it twice and managed to get out of it both times?”

He sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Lev believes in the family. I think it’s all he believes in, actually.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Losing Step nearly killed him. Then when you and I eloped, he felt like he was losing what was left of his family, and I think it pushed him off the deep end a little bit. He loves you, Natalya, you and your father and the whole fucking organization, maybe more than anyone else does. It gives him purpose. It defines him and helps keep some of his darkness at bay.”

I nearly laugh. Lev? Darkness? He’s the most lighthearted guy I’ve ever met.

But the more I think about it, the more I can see what Alex means. Lev’s always had to edge to him, but he’d very good at hiding that edge behind his charming laugh. He pretends to be this easygoing guy, and that might only be the mask he wears around other people. When we were kids, I remember catching moments when he wasn’t hiding himself, and it was terrifying. The coldness, the frosty chill beneath his warm exterior.

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