Page 47 of Debt to the Mafia King
There was an overwhelming urge to push her closer to bliss fast and hard, but I fought the impulse. Today had to be like this, slow and steady.
“Vikor.” My name left her mouth like a prayer, and my cock threatened to explode.
“Do you need more, Leah?” I already knew she did. She wasn’t a soft and gentle kind of woman. It was one of the reasons we were so compatible in the bedroom. She needed someone with a firm hand to get her off, and I wanted nothing more than her submission, just as long as that fire stayed in her eyes, of course.
“Lean back,” I ordered. “Put your feet on my knees. Spread yourself open for me.”
She did what I asked, her head falling back on my shoulder. It moved her mouth away from mine, but opened her up so deliciously for me.
My fingers curled inside of her, the heel of my hand pushing against her clit, and I felt the first clamp around my fingers that signaled she was getting close.
A few more minutes, and I would have her screaming my name again, and things would be better. She clearly forgave me for last night.
“Oh, Viktor.” Her whole body went rigid, tremors making all of her muscles shake, and then just like that, she wascrying out to God, to me.
Or were we one and the same?
I wanted to be the only god she ever called for.
“Beautiful.” Sliding my hand from her panties, I smoothed her dress back over my knees. Shifting our positions, I sat her in the seat and stood with a smile. “Eat, Leah.”
Her lips trembling, she looked up at me. “You’re not eating with me?”
The smile still firmly on my face, I slipped the fingers that had just been inside of her into my mouth and sucked. “I’m not hungry for food, but don’t worry, I will come and eat you later today.”
To me, it was a joke, but she didn’t laugh.
Bending down, I pressed my lips to her head. “I’ll see you later, ok?”
I’d barely made it to the door when I heard her sob. A wet, ragged sound that sounded like it came from the bottom of her soul. Turning in shock, I stared at her.
“Why are you crying?”
She didn’t answer me. Instead, she unfurled her body and reached for a fork. But her body kept jerking with her sobs.
“Leah,” I demanded again. “Why are you crying?”
Stomping back into the room, I stood at the end of the table and glared at her. “Answer me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. I wouldn’t have asked about it if it didn’t matter. Why are you crying? Did I hurt you again?”
She shook her head.
“Then why the tears?” Jesus, women were exhausting. I had just done something nice for her, and yet here she was crying, sobbing like I had broken her heart.
There was not a chance in hell that I would ever understand her or any other woman, for that matter. Not that I could ever imagine caring about another woman’s tears.
“Didn’t I make you cum?”
She looked at me, steadily and without blinking. “Yes.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “And then you left just like you always do.”
“What?”
“You always leave.” Her voice was rising, and another sob ripped its way out of her throat. “You use my body.”
“You enjoy what I do to you, Leah.” I pointed out sharply.
