Page 44 of Crimson Sin
I move away from the desk, needing motion to channel the restless energy that builds whenever I think about my cousin's festering resentment. “He has carried that poison all his life, let it corrupt every interaction, every relationship. To him, the Bratva seat is his birthright stolen by interlopers. To him, I'm an imposter wearing a crown that belongs on his head.”
She shifts in the chair, the cotton nightshirt rustling softly, drawing my attention to the elegant line of her legs. Even while discussing deadly family politics, she affects me, pulling my focus away from strategy and toward desire. “And you think he would try to take it from you?”
“I know,” I correct, turning back to meet her gaze directly. “He's been waiting his entire life for the right moment, the perfect opportunity. He would use anything and anyone, to achieve his goal.” My jaw tightens as the next words force themselves past my lips. “Including you.”
She processes this information with the quick intelligence I've come to admire, seeing the connections and implications without needing them spelled out. Then she swallows hard, her throat working visibly. “That's why you don't want me out of sight.”
“Yes.” The word emerges sharp and rough, carved from granite and desperation.
Her gaze lingers on my face, reading expressions I cannot hide from her anymore. “But it's not just about protecting me, is it? It's about protecting yourself.”
The truth cuts deeper than her voice, slicing through defenses I've spent years constructing. She sees too much and understands too clearly the selfish motivations that drive my protective instincts. I move closer, drawn by forces I cannot resist, until I can smell lavender clinging to her skin and see the gold flecks in her brown eyes.
“You think I'm selfish,” I murmur, close enough now that my breath stirs the dark strands of her hair.
“I think you're human,” she whispers back, and those three words contain more absolution than any priest could offer.
For a moment, I can't breathe. I should step back and maintain the distance that keeps us both safe from complications. Instead, I lower my head, my lips brushing the air above hers, close enough to share breath but not quite touching. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her breath hitches audibly, her eyes darting down to my mouth and then back up, caught between desire and uncertainty. “Then show me.”
The leash snaps. All the control I've maintained crumbles in an instant. My mouth crushes hers, devouring her gasp as she clutches my shirt, dragging me closer. My hand tangles in the silk of her hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands as I tilt her head back to deepen the kiss. The taste of her floods through me, addictive and intoxicating, better than the finest whiskey, more potent than any drug. She opens for me completely, no hesitation, just pure surrender that makes my head spin.
I press her against the desk, my body caging hers between solid marble and solid muscle. The thought of Viktor's eyes on her fuels the fire burning in my veins, jealousy and possession scorching through every nerve ending. My mouth trails from her lips to her jaw, following the delicate line of bone beneath velvet skin, then down the graceful curve of her throat where her pulse thrums wildly beneath my lips like a captive bird.
I lift her onto the edge of my desk, forcing her thighs apart with a sharp shove of my hands. Her shirt rides up, baring the soft skin of her legs, and I press between them.
“You think Viktor’s eyes on you mean anything?” My teeth sink into her neck, biting until she moans. I suck the skin, leaving my mark. “You think he could ever touch you like this? No.You’re mine.”
Her breath stutters. “Daniil…”
I shove the flimsy barrier of her panties aside and slide two fingers inside her, slow and ruthless. She gasps, her nails clawing into my shoulders. She’s already wet, her body gripping me tight, clenching around every thrust of my hand.
I curl my fingers deep, pressing hard against her clit with my thumb, circling mercilessly. Her moans break free, ragged and pleading, her hips rolling against my palm.
“Please,” she gasps.
“Not enough.” I snarl against her throat, biting again, leaving another bruise. “Beg for it.”
Her head tilts back, lips parted, eyes wide. “I?—”
“Beg, Naomi.” I thrust harder, faster. “Say it. Say you need me to let you come.”
Her body arches, trembling, fighting the wave I’m holding just out of reach. “P-please, Daniil,” she cries, her voice breaking. “I need it. I need you.”
My teeth scrape along her collarbone. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she sobs, desperate, her nails raking down my back. “Yours, Daniil. Please?—”
That’s what I’ve been waiting for. I grind my thumb harder against her clit, thrusting my fingers in deep strokes. She shatters around me, her scream muffled against my chest as her orgasm rips through her. She trembles violently, her thighs clamping around my wrist, but I don’t stop until she’s gasping, boneless against me.
I pull my fingers free, slick with her release, and drag them into my mouth, tasting her while she watches, dazed and shaking. Her blush rises, her lips parted, and I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, letting her taste herself on my tongue.
But I’m not finished. I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “No, little dove. I’m going to ruin you until you can’t remember anyone else’s name but mine.”
Before she can answer, I rip her shirt over her head, stripping her bare. She gasps, trying to cover herself, but I pin her wrists against the desk with one hand, my mouth crushing hers again until she surrenders.
Then I drag her to the window. The glass looms high, cold, and unyielding, overlooking the dark grounds below. I press her body against it, her breasts flattening against the pane, her palms splayed against the cold surface. She gasps as the chill seeps into her skin.
