Page 138 of Dirty Damage

“Someone certainly thinks highly of herself.”

I slip out from between his body and the wall, heading for the stairs. “Fine. If you weren’t jealous, then I’ll go back upstairs and find someone else to dance with.”

He jerks me back before I can reach the first step.

He crushes me against his body, knocking the breath out of my lungs. “Don’t test me, woman. The only man you’re going to touch tonight is me.”

“I’ll agree to that,” I breathe, tipping my head back to meet his eyes. “If you tell me the truth.”

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns in a low whisper. His breath is hot against my lips.

I lift my hand to trace the scars on his face with gentle fingers. “I’m not afraid of fire. Tell me the truth, Oleg.”

As my fingers slide over his mouth, his lips part. He grabs my fingers between his teeth. “Fine.”

Our bodies rock together, and I lick my lips—a move he locks in on. “Fine what?”

“I was jealous.” His hand slides up my thigh. He picks up right where we left off earlier, stroking his thumb over the damp center of my panties. “And it seems you like it.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he shifts the lace aside and touches me, skin to skin. He works a thumb through my soaking center, circling over my clit.

The only thing that comes out of me is a groan.

“You like being mine, princess,” he whispers, working a thick finger into me. I part my thighs to invite him deeper. To take more. He pushes a second finger into me, stretching me like it’s nothing. “You want me jealous.”

“And you want me all to yourself,” I gasp, cupping the throbbing erection pressing against the front of his pants.

Anyone could walk past the stairs and see us. But as I unzip Oleg’s pants and free him, feeling him hard and hot in my palm, I don’t care about anything else.

He gives a rough thrust into my palm as he strokes his fingers into me. Our lips meet in a moan, moving together in sloppy, desire-drunk kisses as we stumble back against the wall.

Oleg slides his fingers out of me as I bring him to my entrance.

And with one thrust, he’s buried inside of me.

“Fuck, Sutton,” he breathes, finding my hands and pinning them to the wall above my head. Our fingers intertwine as he pushes into me again and again.

I curl my thigh around his hip, and he slides home even deeper. I cry out, but it’s lost when he kisses me again.

We’re as close as we can be, but it isn’t enough.

This entire week of fucking and talking hasn’t been enough.

I wantmore.

I think I’ll always want more.

And the way Oleg holds me, breathing only my name as we come together while the wealthy, insane people who populate his world carry on with their reckless sins somewhere above our heads…

I think he wants more, too.

When we fall apart together, gasping and crying out, all I can think is,He’s just as much mine as I am his.

Whether he admits it or not.

40

SUTTON

---