Page 57 of The Den of Sin
Ignoring all the background noise and chatter, all my senses focused on his touch. His big hand inched closer and closer to where I wanted him. The moment his fingers brushed against my panties, a moan escaped my lips.
“You are wet for me,” he groaned.
I was always wet for him. Have been from the moment we met. Initially it was infatuation and a crush, then it slowly developed to liking him a lot. Despite his grumbling ways and rough edges, I loved how he kept his sister and his brother safe. He always came to the rescue. Always! He was dependable and reliable. He could have easily gotten Tatiana and I separated, instead he ensured to keep us both protected.
When he sent flowers to Tatiana for passing a hard exam or a class, he always sent flowers to me as well. The card was always short, but I’d stare at it for days. Yep, I was completely crushing on him back then. I never knew how he found out what classes I was taking. I assumed Tatiana probably told him.
“Yes.” There was no sense in lying. Evidence of my arousal was at his fingertips. “Don’t stop,” I begged needy for all the sensation only his touch could bring me.
“Malyshka,” he growled. “Put your head on my shoulder.” His instruction was a rasp and without hesitation, I did as he said. “Nobody gets to see you like this. Just me.”
The possessive tone of his voice soaked through my skin to my veins and into my bloodstream. This was far better than any alcohol.
His finger caressed my aching pussy, touching everything but the spot that I needed him. I leaned closer into his touch, grinding against his finger.
“We do this my way,” he groaned into my ear. “Stay still.” A little pout left my lips, and I wondered where it came from. “I’ll make it good,” he promised softly. “Now, obey me.”
My body immediately stilled, and he rewarded me with a gentle nip on my neck and a brush against my sensitive nub. My eyes were locked on the spot where his hand disappeared between two scraps of material called a dress, and each time he moved, it was like a peekaboo game of his inked fingers disappearing under the skimpy, revealing material.
“Are you watching me touch you?”
“Yes.” My voice was barely audible between little moaning breaths.
His finger applied gentle pressure against my clit and rubbed, my moans getting louder.
“Shhh, malyshka.”
I bit my lip, trying to contain the sounds. There were people barely six feet away from us while I let him touch me, his finger teasing me. Could they tell what he was doing?
“Not a sound. The waiter is coming.”
I immediately stilled but his finger continued rubbing my clit, fingering me. My core shook, the heat licking my skin, his finger taking me higher. I bit hard into my lip to stop any sounds from escaping me.
“Sir, your whiskey on the rocks. Two cubes, like always.”
“Thank you, Jackson.” Vasili’s deep voice was calm and composed, unlike my entire body. My forehead still rested on his shoulder, unwilling to look up and meet his nor the waiter’s eyes. His finger slid into my pussy and while his hand covered it, his thumb continued to finger my clit. I bit into the cloth of his suit, trying to stifle a moan.
“Sure thing,” the waiter told him. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
The sound of clinking of ice reached my ears through the haze of lust.
“He’s gone, malyshka,” he murmured softly. “Let me see you.”
I lifted my head off his shoulder, my cheeks burning, whether with embarrassment or need, I had no idea. I watched him take a drink of his whiskey and then his mouth came down on mine. He tasted like whiskey and Vasili, all man.My man.
The thought shattered my soul, but it was gone the next second as my mouth opened to welcome his tongue. Liquid poured into my mouth, whiskey on my tongue and I swallowed it, the burning sensation going down my throat matching the way my body burned.
“Fuck, you are perfect,” he groaned. “You are all fucking mine.”
“Vasili, please,” I begged. “I want to come.”
He added another finger, pumping in and out of me, never easing the rhythm and pressure on my clit. The pressure built and built, taking me higher. Russian words whispered in my ear only made me hotter. I pretended they were words of love and sorrow for breaking my heart all those years ago. I imagined he was telling me he needed me as much as I needed him right now.
“Ohhhh.”
“You come when I say,” he said roughly against my ear.
The overwhelming sensation of heat writhed and pulsed in my veins, my body fitting perfectly against his. His lips traveled down my throat, he grazed the skin with his teeth and immediately licked it. My hands traveled under his suit jacket, and I fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.
