Page 38 of Brutal Promise

What is it about the timber of a man’s voice that I find so attractive? Maybe I do have daddy issues. I picture him reclining in a leather wingback chair, smoking a cigar, and drinking amber-colored scotch from a rock glass.

“I’m wondering about my family. Will I fit in? Will I find aunts and uncles? What if they don’t like me?”

“Then it’s their loss. But you will always have a family with me.”

“But your family won’t accept me. Alena’s family is tight-knit, and her marriage will be to a Russian no matter how she feels about it.”

“It might take time, but family comes first. You’ll see.”

I allow myself to relax into his chest: the food, the vodka, the warm bath calming me.

“We still have wine to finish,” I murmur.

“Let me get you out.” He stands, water droplets streaming down the tattoos on his chiseled chest and six-pack abs, an incredible specimen of a man.

“What is the meaning of the tattoos? I can read the tat written in Spanish, but not the other one.”

“It means beauty is brutal in my language.” He towels off his chest and proceeds to his legs.

“Meaning?”

“Things in life that are beautiful can be lost. The brutality of life can take away all that we find beautiful and rob us of what we want most.”

“What do you want most?” I step out of the water and stand naked before him.

“To call you mine.” And with those words, my walls crumble.

With a soft towel, he pats my damp face, then my neck, and takes his time with my arms and legs. By the time he revisits my breasts, I’m breathing heavily. The towel brushes my nipples, causing them to pebble.

“See, you want me. You can’t trick your body. Being near to you has the same effect on me.”

No words are needed as his cock is hard and erect, and its head pushes into my navel. His cock is sublime. I’ve never had a man this big before.

I want him. I need him. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, and the thought of being with him scares me. It’s too late and too dangerous to go back to Connecticut. My only play is to stick by Dmitry. He will slay anyone who comes for me. With him by my side, I stand a chance of coming out of this alive.

“Kneel.”

Fuck, he’s hardcore. But I do as he says and drop to my knees on the bathmat before him. Is this the price I pay to live?

“Suck my cock.”

My hand doesn’t even fit around his thick nine-inch cock, and I worry how I will fit all this in my tiny mouth. Tracing the bulging veins with my tongue, I suck the pearly precum off the tip and swallow the wetness like its nectar from the gods. He doesn’t taste bitter. In fact, I enjoy licking him. He has the most gorgeous cock with a slight curve. I wrap my mouth around the tip, go down two inches, and pull back. I rest my lips on his swollen tip, teasing him.

He pulls the comb from my messy bun, and my hair tumbles over my shoulders as I focus on giving his cock my full attention.

I inch further up his shaft and pull back, teasing him. He tugs at my hair, holding my head in place, making it impossible for me to play with him again.

He loves control.

“Fuck my cock,Usha Uoya.” His words mean business. I can’t say more thanpleaseandthank youin Russian. “I want you to suck me like your life depends upon it.”

Fuck me.My pussy drips with anticipation.

I open my mouth to accommodate his girth and take him in as far as possible without gagging.

He groans with pleasure and pulls on my hair until it’s taut. It hurts, and I can’t tilt my head back without feeling more pain.

I flick the tip with my tongue and feel his body tighten. I move my lips up and down his shaft, swirling my tongue around him. With both hands tangled in my hair, his pelvis thrusts back and forth as he takes over and fucks my mouth.

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