Page 24 of The Debt

The command in his voice broke through her last defenses. Her fingers curled into his jacket as he kissed her again, deeper this time, more demanding. She moaned into his mouth as his hand brushed aside her panties to tease the wet folds he found there.

“Oh, Lord,” she moaned as he boldly pushed two fingers deep inside her hot body while toggling her clit with his thumb.

“Just as hot and wet as I remember,” he drawled in a dark voice. “Have you kept to your promise, my pet?” He leaned back to watch her with glowing eyes. “Do you still belong to me… and only me?”

“I… ohh!” she cried as another finger pushed inside her. Her hips jerked as he started to thrust them rhythmically while his thumb continued its merciless attack on her swollen nub. The room swirled around her as she became lost in untethered euphoria fed by the chemistry that drew her to him every time. She was quickly losing herself in the raw passion he exuded. Then, his movements stopped. Tatiana smothered a protest and opened her eyes.

“I’m waiting, Venus,” he bit out darkly. “Did you keep your promise? Are you mine?”

“Yes… I am!” Tatiana’s hips canted against his hand in desperation. She was overwhelmed with unknown emotions. Master Hades had exposed her to sensations she had never experienced before. He had unleashed a sensual wantonness to which she willingly conceded. She had never allowed any man to exert such a level of sexual power over her, and yet, here she was… twitching and dancing like a marionette to his command.

“Good girl.”

Tatiana boomed at his praise, which in itself was a foreign concept for her. She had never needed or aspired to be praised by a Dom. Jarek Farrel had the power of the devil.

A flash of heat surged through her stomach as he once again probed his fingers deep inside her. A rich moan resonated within her throat, racing up only to be muted as she clenched her jaw, remembering Zee was on the other side of the door.

“No, Venus. No holding back. Wider, little one. Open your legs for me. We both know you want to.” Rotating his hand while gently toggling her taut, erect nub with his thumb, he quickly added a fresh spark to her hungry body.

“Ahh! Ooh.” The carnal moan rose half a scale as Jarek stroked and probed her swollen labia at the same time pressing his thumb against her clit and rubbing hard.

“Yes,” Tatiana cried out as the pressure inside her mounted, and heat started to rush through her core. “NO!” she cried as he pulled away, leaving her breathless, disheveled, and teetering on the brink of an orgasm. His own breathing was heavy, and his eyes flashed with an unspoken promise.

“We best stop now; otherwise, sweet Zee might walk in on something that would permanently traumatize her.”

“You are not serious!” Heat flooded Tatiana’s cheeks as he chuckled and lifted himself to his feet. Mumbling incoherently about a “Demonic Dom”, she straightened her clothing with trembling hands.

“Come now, little one. Give me a smile,” he coaxed as he caressed her flushed cheek. “Hmm… no?” Another wicked laugh crawled from his chest as she glared at him instead. “I’ll pick you up from your apartment at seven. Wear something elegant.”

That snapped her back to herself. She got up with unsteady legs.

“I prefer to be asked to dinner, not informed. Thank you very much.”

“Why waste time with pretense, Ms. Polov?” His smile was pure sin as he straightened his tie. “The end result will be the same.”

He strode out before she could respond, leaving her sputtering with indignation. The worst part? The absolute worst part? He was right, damn him. She’d be ready at seven, and they both knew it.

Pressing cool fingers to her glowing cheeks, she sank back onto the sofa. His scent lingered on her skin as a reminder of how completely he had dominated her in just minutes. Even now, her body hummed with unfulfilled desire, throbbing and aching for his touch… and sexual relief.

Seven o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Twelve

Jarek

Nikolai's Rooftop Lounge Bar at the Hilton, Courtland Street NE, Atlanta…

Perched atop the thirtieth floor of the hotel, Nikolai's Roof had been captivating guests since 1976 with its breathtaking views of the city skyline, expertly crafted dishes, exceptional service, and an award-winning wine selection. Visitors raved about the bright, inviting interior, the stunning city panoramas, and the refined atmosphere. While the views were a major draw, guests often found themselves staying for the signature indulgences, such as house-infused flavored vodkas, an exquisite caviar service, and delicious piroshkis.

“I’ll never get tired of this view,” Tatiana said. Her voice carried a hint of wonder as she appreciated the glittering lights of Downtown Atlanta from their position at the outside lounge bar.

Jarek shifted against the brass balustrade that encircled the bar area to keep patrons from the edge of the roof. His gaze drifted over the cityscape. They were enjoying a pre-dinner drink while waiting for their table.

“Do you dine here often?”

“No, I don’t, although it is my favorite restaurant. Getting a reservation is nearly impossible,” she said. Turning toward him, she asked with curiosity rife in her voice, “How did you manage a table on such short notice?”

“The chef and I go back a long way,” he said, smiling as he moved closer.

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