Page 35 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

His laugh is low and lethal, sliding through me like smoke. “Is that so?” he murmurs, and this time when his hand moves, it’s slow and sure—fingers grazing the curve of my hip with a heat that shoots straight to my core. “Are you sure you’d want that,lisichka?”

The way he says it—like a promise, like a warning—makes my pulse stutter.

“Absolutely,” I reply, steady, even as my breath begins to quicken. “Because if you cross the line, so will everyone else. And then the entire illusion falls apart. No exclusivity. No power. No profit.”

He doesn’t move right away. Doesn’t blink. Just watches me with those steel-gray eyes that could raze empires. Then, slowly, he leans back, letting his hand fall away from my hip. He exhales, long and sharp, like a man reining in a beast.

“You’re either brilliant,” he says, voice tight with restraint, “or suicidally reckless. I haven’t decided which.”

I tilt my head, pulse still roaring under my skin. “I’ll take both,” I say with a smirk. “Genius sells. Reckless entertains. Either way, the house wins.”

The air still crackles between us, all heat and challenge. He doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Because the move is mine now.

And I’m not done.

I hold his gaze as I shift, slow and sinuous, sliding off his lap until I’m kneeling between his thighs. The hardwood is cool against my knees, but the heat radiating off his body scorches everything else.

My hands trail up his legs, until they press against the hardness straining beneath his slacks.

“But a performer,” I murmur, my voice silk-wrapped steel, “can touch…if she chooses to.”

His whole body goes still, frozen not by fear, but by the sheer, fraying edge of control.

And I smile, wicked and certain.

Checkmate.

He watches, jaw tight, but otherwise doesn’t interfere. Leaning in, I part my lips and trace the outline of hiserection over his pants. And even though there’s enough fabric separating us, it’s far too intimate and dangerous.

“I will think about it,” Vasiliy growls, and I dart my eyes up, finding his gaze uncompromising, with no gentleness in them.

The thought chills me, setting my teeth on edge. “You do that.”

An indecent urge takes control of my muscles, and I pull down his zipper. His hands are gripping the arms of the chair, but he doesn’t touch me. There’s desperation coming through his ragged breaths, as if he can’t contain the desire for much longer.

Fishing out his cock, I hold him in my hand, looking up.

“Show me just how much you want me to think about this,” he growls. I slide my tongue down his shaft, then place my lips on his tip. At the first pump of his hips, he nearly drives it into my mouth. The velvety smoothness and delicious shudder that rocks his body is pure sin, and I can’t help the thrill that runs through me. Of all the plans I’ve formulated since arriving here, letting Vasiliy Volkov take me the way he wants wasn’t part of the bargain. And yet, here I am, flushed and needy as his knuckles turn white and he pumps into my mouth.

After the denial, I’d almost forgotten the taste of him, the smooth silkiness of his skin against my tongue. A moan escapes as he presses deeper, stifling any lingering protests as the beast is set loose. He fucks my mouth with rough strokes as his balls slap my chin. Pain shoots up my scalp, bringing tears to my eyes. Every instinct screams at me to pull away and run.

But I want this too much. Need him too much. Every taste of him sends a shiver of lust straight to my pussy, reminding me of his hot finger against my folds as he teased me. The lack of a release is torturous, making my nerves twitch and scream for contact.

His pace quickens, and his growl fills my ears. “That’s it.”

My body feels strange and uncomfortable, half-aroused, half-scared. I can’t stand this moment of suspension, being in equal parts worshipped and destroyed by this man.

And yet, I love it.

I may have started this to prove a point, but now, all I care about is his pleasure. Riding a high, I lock my jaw and suck, deeper and deeper.

His body shifts, releasing some tension. Even through the fog, I recognize the victory, pushing harder.

The next second, Vasiliy leans above me, expression thunderous. Before I can process his mood, his hand locks around my throat. He yanks his cock out of my mouth and pulls me into his lap. My panties are soaked as he shoves them aside, my naked pussy angled over the thick, blunt tip.

Gasping, I try to squirm out of his grasp, but his fingers tighten. A warning. Or a plea.

“Should I sink inside you,lisichka?” he asks, breath fanning my face. “I want to sink deep inside you until you’re begging me to never leave again.”

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