Page 66 of Dangerous Beginnings

“A-Aslanov, please.”

With one last kiss on my breast, his face comes inches closer to mine. My breath gets coughing up in my throat at the sight of meeting him ever so close. His hand wraps around my throat and suddenly two of his fingers enter me, rough. A loud moan escapes my throat, it’s primal. His face is inches away from mine as his hot breath drifts into my face, “I should kill you for making me feel this way.”

His fingers enter me, in, and out. Multiple times, faster andfaster. My breath becomes faster, and my hips rise to his touch. It’s not enough. I need more of him. I’m a moaning mess at this point, his hands are rough. His entire hand covers my neck, it’s so much bigger that he could snap my neck within one second. The thought doesn’t last long as he ups the speed, and my body vibrates. My arousal drips down my tights. I am nothing but sensation, lost in a rhythm that is both too much and not enough. I’m near my climax.

Lost in the heat of the moment, I surrender myself to him completely, giving in to the primal hunger that courses through my veins. His hands roam over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he claims me as his own in the most primal of ways. There’s a roughness to his movements, a primal urgency that sends a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through me. He’s biting my neck softly, leaving bruises in their wake as heclaimsme as his own. As I’m about to reach my climax, he stops.

His teeth click, “Not so fastlove,welcome to yourpunishment.”

Chapter 38

You Belong to Me

Isabella

His face comes close to mine before his lips press against my neck, a much better feeling than the knife I must admit. It’s hot, soft, and feels like a sin. The fact that he is so close to me should warn me, scare me. But it doesn’t, I can’t think straight and lose all my morals. A soft moan escapes my lips as he trails down my neck to my chest, my breast. I arch my neck while intending to push it closer to him, his hot lips pressing against my nipple. Slowly he wraps his lips around it and starts gently sucking it. By this time, I am a whimpering mess. His knees come in between my legs and spread them open, leaving me completely vulnerable and exposed at his mercy. My wrist pulls at the tie that binds them to the headboard, leaving no space for movement.

Another moan lingers in the air and by now I’m whimpering underneath him, a mess, for him. And again, when I’m reaching my climax, he stops. I tug on the bindings above my head and try to close my legs, but he stops me, his knees solid in place. His lips trail down my neck, and I can feel him leaving bruises in the midst of it. He’s marking my skin, marking me. His breath is hot against my skin, his inked fingers dig into my raw porcelain skin. As his mouth moves down to my stomach the butterflies fly loose. Everything becomes blurry. Nothing matters anymore apart from this moment. His lips move towards my heated core. I move my hips towards his embrace. It’s a new feeling that fills me, a feeling that I’ve never felt before.

Suddenly his teeth wrap around my clit, a small bit of roughenforcement, a bite. I yelp as I try to move my hips away from his devilish actions. I think by now my face is as red as a tomato, or worse.

His mouth moves from my core to my nipple again, his rough fingers pushing inside of me again, slowly and somewhat faster and faster. I’m a moaning mess and there is no way I can hide my arousal from him. He’s pushing in and out of me in a steady rhythm. My hips lift themselves, searching for more of him. More of his touch.

“Now that’s agood girl.” The venom crashes its way further through my veins. My toes curl and everything inside me is warm. Now I’ve known since I was sixteen that I had abnormal tendencies, but I always thought they would remain tucked in the dark corners of my heart. But having the boss of the Russian mafia as your first real sexual encounter surpasses them all. Besides the age difference, that’s just an accessory at this point.

This is the monster I should fear out of everyone in the world, and yet I have never felt more safe and wanted as of right now. I feel empowered. I feel power dripping from my fingertips, knowing someone like him with so much power would want someone like me.

“Come for me.” My body ignites and a heat wave makes its way down my stomach. “You don’t know what you do to me.” The rawness of his voice matches the desire in his eyes—dark and fathomless—I feel it in my bones. It is that look, those words, and spoken in that voice with that accent that tips me over the edge. The long tease is coming to an end.

I come with a sharp cry, my body shuddering. His face comes up, inches away from mine. His lips are barely touching mine, while his eyes lock on mine. For every time he’s locked eyes with me, this time it’s different. There is something else that has never been there before. Our breaths mingle for a second, a breathless moment. The world around us stops, time stops,everything stops. His breath smells like liquor and cigarettes, with a hint of mint. Itintoxicatesme. And it has been for months now. Ever since I saw him.

Chapter 39

Death of Love

Isabella

The room is draped in shadows, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon. We stand on the edge of something we can’t name, suspended between what is and what could be. The air hums with anticipation, the kind that makes every breath feel like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

I stand by the floor-to-ceiling window, the cool glass beneath my fingertips grounding me as I gaze out at the sprawling forest. Yet, the view before me is just a blur, my thoughts entirely consumed by the man standing behind me. I can feel his presence, a potent force that pulls at something deep within me, something I have been trying—and failing—to keep at bay.

He hasn’t said a word, but the silence is more telling than any conversation we could have had. It is the kind of silence that thrums with unspoken emotions, with words that hover just out of reach. I don’t dare turn around, afraid that one look will shatter the fragile barrier I have built between us. But the longer the silence stretches, the more it feels like a vice tightening around my chest. The air between us is charged, heavy with the weight of all the things we have left unsaid, and I know that if I don’t break it soon, I will drown in it. “I can feel you thinking,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, yet loud in the stillness of the room.

There is a pause, and then his voice, low and velvet-smooth, comes from behind me. “And what do you think I’m thinking?”

I close my eyes, the rich timbre of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “That you’re trying to decide what to do with me– with us.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, I think I have guessed wrong. But then, I feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, and I know he has moved closer. “And if I am?” he asks, his voice a murmur, close enough that I can feel the vibration of his words against my skin.

My breath hitches, and I fight to keep my voice steady. “I think… if you were going to leave, you would have done it already.”

There is a soft, almost imperceptible sound—like the ghost of a laugh, or maybe a sigh. “You’re right,” he says finally, his voice tinged with something I can’t quite place. “But maybe I should. Maybe that’s the only way to keep this from… spiraling out of control.”

His words are like a punch to the gut, but I force myself to turn around, to meet his gaze. When I do, the intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch. They are dark, almost black in the dim light, and they hold a storm of emotions—desire, frustration, fear… and something else. Something that makes my heart skip a beat.

I force myself to turn around, meeting his gaze with a mixture of resolve and dread. His eyes are dark, almost void-like, and they hold a chilling intensity that makes my skin prickle.

“What’s going through your mind?” I ask, my voice steady despite the fear that clings to the edges of my words.

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