Page 72 of A Pawn in the Game
The head of his cock teasing my entrance, I’m unable to refuse. Slowly, I lower my hips, letting myself stretch to his size. We moan in unison. He’s so fucking deep. My ass rises before getting back down. Another moan escapes me. I find purchase on his abs, so I can ride him more easily, and the slight shift in the angle makes spots appear in my vision.
“Look at me, Sophie,” Luka grits out, placing his hands on my ass. “You look so fucking beautiful like this. Using me for your pleasure.”
I open my eyes, and what lies in front of me sucks the breath right out of me. It’s Luka, in all his magnificent glory. It’s miles of tattooed skin and perfectly sculpted muscles on display. But what really gets me is his gaze. He stares at me like I’m the only thing he sees. Like I’m the one that has power over him.
My throat clogs with emotion. I play black in chess because that is what my life is. I’m just defending myself from others, never being the one in charge. And he looks at me like I am. The realization is crippling, sending fear up my spine and into my extremities.
Luka slows his movements, noticing my shift. “Are you okay?”
“Harder,” I bite out. His eyes widen, so I repeat, “Harder, please. I want it to hurt.”
His mouth closes on a swallow, but he does what I asked. A loud smack echoes the room as his palm connects to my ass cheek.The sting shoots straight to my clit, barreling me toward an orgasm. I whimper, and he pulls me flush to him. He lands another slap to my ass, and I make another step to my release. Never stopping his thrusts, his lips land on mine, staking his claim. He nips my bottom lip, hard enough to make me hiss, and lowers his mouth to my neck.
“Your pain.” A sharp nip. “Is my pain. I feel it as clearly as mine.” He sucks on the thin skin covering my jugular and my heartbeat goes wild. “But I’m the one hurting you.”
“I want it. I need the pain,” I respond in a breathy voice.
He sinks his teeth into my flesh, leaving no doubt it will leave marks, while bottoming out inside my pussy and I burst. I’ve hated my scars for so long, but the thought of carrying his marks sends me reeling.
CHAPTER 36
Luka
Her pussy grips me like an iron fist, pulsing in sync with the waves of her orgasm. Holding off is impossible, so I follow right behind, emptying myself inside her, my whole body seized by the tremors. Both of our bodies are wet from exertion as she slumps down onto me.
“Whew,” she whispers. “I’ll have no problem falling asleep after this.”
I chuckle, responding, “Glad I could help.” But it’s not the full truth.
I get that the release helps her sleep. And I’m glad to at least be able to give her something. But as our hearts race together, I know I want to give her more. More than keeping her locked in a fucking dungeon.
She starts squirming, and I reluctantly exit her warmth. I was expecting her to head to the bathroom, but she turns to her side with a soft sigh. Her breathing deepens and not a minute after, she’s out. Turning to the same side, I spoon her to me, enjoying the feel of being molded to her body. My chest expands with the knowledge she’s leaking my cum, and it’s something I’d rather not analyze. Placing a tender kiss on her hair, I drift off to sleep.
Sophie slept in and I refused to wake her up before I had to leave. My feet are restless knowing I left without saying goodbye, but I had to get to work. Leaving Ivan, the only person I know she feels comfortable with, in charge of keeping her safe, I take Andre to deal with another drop-off.
We pull up into the empty lot in front of the seemingly abandoned building. The place is suspiciously eerie. Though there were tire tracks on the gravel road we drove through, ours is the only car currently parked here.
“Shouldn’t they already be here?” I ask Andre, the flame of my lighter flickering as I light my cigarette.
“Maybe they got lost.” He shrugs, though he’s drawing his gun. This is not our typical place. It’s one of the temporary spaces we found for drop-offs while we deal with the Russians.
My hand on the trigger, I exhale a cloud of smoke and step closer to the entrance. Ozzy, our coke guy, is never late.
Andre kicks the door in with his boot, both of our weapons raised, but the place is empty. He does a quick sweep of the room, while my gaze trails the space, my nostrils flaring with each covered inch.
Three wooden crates lay on the floor wide open, all of them containing our ruined merchandise. The typically neatly stacked bricks obviously lost a knife fight, but that wasn’t enough. No, the expensive white powder is covered in yellow liquid in one of them, coated with ash in the next, while three dead mice adorn the third one. I grab the one closest to me, and on a grunt, throw it in the direction of the closest wall.
The crate hits the window with a crack, and a cloud of white powder puffs in the air. Fucking Russians destroyed our goods. Three full crates are here, so, from what I can tell, nothing was stolen, but it might as well have been. “Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair, my insides heating with rage.
I throw my cigarette in one crate and walk out of the damn place.
“You good, boss?” Andre asks, his voice hesitant as he follows me.
“Peachy,” I bite out, grinding my teeth in a way my dentist would chew me out for.
“Where’s Ozzy?” he asks.
“He was likely smart enough to leave before we got here. Or he was the one who tipped Russians off.”
