Page 53 of Brutal Promise

I resume my earlier position and slam my cock in her hard. Her screams of pleasure echo off the walls of the room. Her eyes shut, and her body spasms with euphoria. I continue to thrust over and over until she stiffens as a wave of more orgasms erupts on my cock. I can’t hold back and bury my head in her neck, groaning like a primitive animal as I come, spilling my seed inside her. My heart is racing, and my head feels like it will explode.

I’m spent. I can’t move. I can’t catch my breath. My legs feel like overcooked spaghetti. I lie on top of her, still buried inside her love tunnel. With reluctance, I pull out and roll to her side.

She reaches down and gently squeezes my slippery cock, still hard and covered with her cum.

I’ve never lost control with a woman, and I’ll be damned if I start now. That doesn’t stop me from pulling her into my arms. I enjoy the feel of her breasts firmly pressed against my chest, and my cock stiffens again. If this continues, I’ll have a difficult time getting any work done.

I leave her side long enough to check the door and turn off the kitchen lights. I return and pull her to me. She doesn’t resist, so she’s either too tired or she’s becoming comfortable around me. I hope it’s the latter of the two.

With a long-satisfied sigh, I drift off to sleep. My gun is on the nightstand, and I hope I won’t have to use it again.

19

IZZY

Dmitry reminds me that the MET Gala is tonight and tells me to get undressed for a dress fitting. I do as he instructs and wait in the bedroom, wearing only a bra and panties. I hear voices, and a stylist brings in a beautiful red sleeveless gown with a beaded bodice. Dmitry watches from the doorway as she helps me into the dress and zips the back. I swear he’s enjoying this.

The dress fits perfectly around my bust and has a long train of satiny material that stretches out behind me. A built-in corset pushes up my breasts, making them appear bigger and my waist smaller. I may look like Jessica Rabbit, but I feel like Cinderella going to the ball.

I raise my eyes, seeking Dmitry’s approval. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame, his eyes feasting upon me. My nipples ripple under his intense gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, Izzy.”

He’s said this twice now. Am I really beautiful? The fact he says it makes me smiles inside.

“The dress,” I say, and he interrupts me.

“The dress is exquisite because you’re wearing it.”

Dmitry’s phone rings, and he leaves the room. I can’t help but wonder how he has so many people available to produce what he wants from thin air. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know.

The woman helping to fit me is older. I ask her for her name, and she informs me it’s Vera. She’s as direct as she is efficient. I’m envious as she rattles off the names of designers she’s worked with in the past. I tell her I appreciate her working with me, especially last minute.

Vera singsongs and talks to herself as she works. I stand patiently, waiting for her verdict on my new look.

It suddenly occurs to me I will be rubbing elbows with TV and movie stars tonight. How did I get in the limelight? Dmitry is my connection, but who does he know well enough to get an invite to a star-studded affair that’s been planned a year in advance?

In addition, I can’t help but wonder how much the man is worth. I’ve never stumbled across the name Volkov, and I’m too afraid to look him up on my phone.

Vera tells me to stand up straight and that people need to have better posture. She’s right. I stand taller, and she pulls shoes out of a bag filled with sewing supplies. I slip then on. They are oddly comfortable for being four-inch heels. She checks the length and nods with approval. You would think it’s tailor-made, the way it fits like a glove.

Vera bustles around and tells me to raise my arms and bend as she checks to make sure everything is snug. Satisfied with her results, she informs Dmitry it’s perfect. He hands her a roll of bills, and she scurries out of the door.

“This is insane,” I exclaim.

Dmitry’s hungry eyes rake over me. His face darkens as he moves across the room to unzip me. I’m excited by the fact that he’s so close to me. His hand pushes aside my hair to find the zipper, and my body tingles.

“I thought you might like to get out this morning, so I’m taking you to the Channel Gardens.”

“Really? I get a hall pass?” I chuckle.

“What’s a hall pass?”

“Oh, right. Well, when you’re in class, you need a pass to go to the bathroom or your locker. It’s called a hall pass.” He looks at me, confused. “Never mind. Getting out of this condo would be great. I like feeling safe, but it’s feeling more and more like solitary confinement.”

He looks hurt, or is it my imagination?

“I mean, you’re great, really,” I babble as I step out of the gown.

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