Page 25 of The Enforcer's Vow
"More manageable. More... comprehensible." She turns to face me, and there's something different in her expression. Less guarded, more present. "Thank you for this. For all of it. I know I haven't been the easiest person to get to know."
"You're worth the effort."
"Am I?"
The question is soft, vulnerable. I cross the room to stand in front of her, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. "You are."
I reach up to cup her face, my thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. Her skin is soft, warm, and she leans into the touch slightly. "Zoya."
"Yes?"
"I want you to know that you're safe with me. Whatever happens, whatever you're afraid of, you're safe." The words taste like poison because I know what my brother expects, but they somehow feel sincere. Damn if my heart isn't so conflicted, I can barely think straight right now.
Something shifts in her expression—surprise, maybe, or recognition. "Why would you say that?"
"Because I can see that you're scared. You're trying to hide it, but you're scared of something. And I want you to know that as long as you're with me, nothing will hurt you."
Her eyes search my face, looking for deception or manipulation. "How can you promise that?"
"Because I don't make promises I can't keep."
She reaches up to cover my hands with hers, holding them against her face. "I don't know how to believe that."
"Then let me show you."
I lean down and kiss her, slow and careful, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. She doesn't. Instead, she kisses me back, her hands sliding up to grip my shoulders. There's still hesitation in her response, but less than before. The barriers are coming down, piece by piece.
When we break apart, she's breathing hard, her cheeks flushed. "Maksim."
Her breath fans across my jaw as I lower my mouth to hers again. She parts her lips, and I take full advantage, sliding my tongue against hers as my hands move from her face to the zipper at the back of her dress. She shivers when I pull it down, exposing the smooth curve of her back. I step closer, pressing against her, letting her feel what she’s doing to me.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I murmur against her mouth. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you."
Zoya’s hands grip the front of my jacket, then slide underneath, pushing it off my shoulders. It hits the floor without a sound. Her fingers move to my buttons, clumsy at first, then more sure as the heat between us grows.
“I don’t do this,” she whispers. “I don’t go to hotels with men I barely know.”
“You know me well enough,” I say, brushing my lips along her neck. “And you want this. Just say it.”
She exhales sharply, her dress slipping down her hips. It pools at her feet, and she steps out of it, wearing only the necklace and a thin scrap of lace for a pair of panties. Her nipplesare already hard, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.
“I want it,” she says. “I want you.” Her eyes aren't lying, pupils blown wide in desire as she looks up at me.
I pick her up, hands gripping the backs of her thighs, and carry her to the bed. She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me again as I lower her onto the mattress. I drag my shirt off and join her, bracing my weight above her as I kiss my way down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, then lower, until I reach the edge of her panties.
Zoya gasps when I mouth her over the thin fabric. Her hips lift, seeking more. I can taste her moisture that’s soaked the fabric and it makes my cock swell to the point it feels like my skin will tear open if I get any larger.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmur, dragging the panties down her legs with a finger hooked in each side of the waistband. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I need your mouth,” she breathes. “I need to feel your tongue searching me. Please, Maksim, eat me like I’m your favorite dessert.”
I don’t make her beg twice. I kiss my way back up to her center, taking my time, letting her anticipation build. Her thighs part for me, the scent of her arousal making my mouth water. I start slowly, just the tip of my tongue sliding between her folds, tasting her. She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed, but I hold her down, one hand on her thigh as I tease her with slow, shallow strokes.
When I find her clit, I circle it lightly, then press my tongue flat and drag it over her again, watching the way her stomach tightens, the way her fingers twist in the sheets. Her thighs close around my head, but I keep going, licking deeper, hungrier, tracing every reaction, every moan. I want to wreck her for anyone else.
"Oh, my God," she breathes. "Maksim, please…"
She doesn’t have to finish. I slip two fingers inside her, curling them just right as I suck her clit into my mouth. She’s supple and flexible, yielding to my actions as I find her bundle of nerves buried deep under the rough flesh. I work it, massaging and teasing as I suck her clit until she’s twitching and whimpering, begging me for more.
