Page 61 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

I was so enthralled by it, I didn’t notice the car had stopped.

He exited the vehicle and reached out his hand to help me. I laid my trembling fingers in it, noting absently how much bigger it was to mine. His arm around me, we walked into his home and he led me to his study. I wondered why but didn’t bother asking. He offered such a great sense of security. If he decided to take me to the moon, I’d feel safe with him.

As we entered, he shut the door behind us. I glanced back at the door then at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Another glass of wine?” he asked in that sexy voice of his.

I nodded although I knew better. I should have said no and gone to my room. I needed to keep my distance till everything with Malcome was finally behind me. But if it turned out Malcome got his dirty hands on me, these memories would be all I would have. I deserved to hold onto feeling this desire, this excitement. This man!

He poured himself another glass of bourbon and another glass of wine for me. Our fingers touched as he handed me the glass. Instead of pulling away quickly, I let them linger. That should have been my first clue that I’d had too much to drink. I slowly brought the drink to my lips, our gazes locked.

I tried to calm my racing heart. Desire coursed through my veins for him, ignoring my reason that whispered I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t want anyone after what Malcome did to me.

This thing with Nikolai… this lust was burning through me like wildfire. But it was just lust, nothing more. Right?

“Why the frown?” he asked in a smooth voice.

“What do you want, Nikolai?” I asked instead, my body and thoughts too relaxed and slow under the influence of the alcohol. I took another sip of wine.

“You,” he replied simply. No beating around the bush, no promises, just straight to the point.

“Why?” I asked now. My turn to ask whys.

“Because from the moment I laid my eyes on you, I couldn’t help but admire your strength.” He must have seen surprise on my face because he continued, “Your determination to save your mother, your strength in standing up to your father and Malcome. How you care about your friends and your brother. I cannot help but be enthralled by you.” He considered me strong? I didn’t feel strong enough. “And my cock has been aching for you,” he added playfully.

I felt heat color on my cheeks. His voice was smooth, deep, sexy, and it made me ache all over. But it was nothing to the sensations this man made me feel. This sense of hope, craving and protection.

“Oh,” was all that came out. I placed my wine glass down, scared I’d spill it with my trembling fingers.

I should tell him right now I didn’t want him. I wouldn’t let him touch me again. I wanted nothing to do with him. But the words, my bitter lies, refused to come out. I was scared to give myself to him, but even more scared not to feel this way ever again.

“Nothing else to say?” he asked teasingly.

“You scare me,” I murmured and he frowned at my words. “After my experience with Malcome, I shouldn’t want anyone. My reaction to you scares me. But then, never experiencing what we had last night, scares me even more.”

Silence stretched between us, full of friction, past ghosts, and desire. He walked to me, stopping mere inches from me. He was so close I could smell his cologne and feel his heat. I should have taken a step back but instead I stood still, watching him, that sensual mouth of his, that kissable neck with gorgeous sun kissed skin. Even his scar fascinated me. I wanted to trace it with my lips, kiss it.

One moment we were watching each other and the next his mouth was on mine. The kiss was possessive, hard, demanding, and I clung to it. All thoughts fled and I focused on the now. My hands fisted his shirt, desperate for his touch that made me come alive for the first time in my life.

Sliding my hands into his hair, I relished in his kiss, giving him everything I had in me. The crazy, fiery desire in me left no room for my past or scars that it left, invisible or visible ones.

I wasn’t sure how I found myself pressed against the wall, all I could focus on were his hands on me, his mouth kissing me senseless. His rock hard chest pressed against me, my body pinned tight against him. I felt his hungry tongue plunge into my mouth, and I sucked on it shamelessly. I didn’t recognize myself; the reserved person I thought I was gone. I wanted the pleasure his touch promised.

His kiss tasted like heaven and my body responded to his closeness like melting ice against burning flames. He broke the kiss and I took big gasping breaths, as he buried his face in my neck, tasting, nipping, and sucking at the tender skin there, causing shudders through my body.

His hands found their way under my dress and left a trail of delicious heat as they moved up to my thighs. Moans escaped me as I twisted my body to his. I wanted more of him. I needed him closer. He pulled the dress over my head, and with my hands around his neck, he slammed his mouth against mine. I felt his fingers slide into my panties, and I gasped at his touch. It was gentle and rough, too much and not enough, everything I needed.

His fingers slid inside me and a sigh left my lips.

“Beautiful,” his voice was a soft murmur against my lips.

I watched him through heavy eyelids, chasing the sensation he gifted me yesterday.

“Want me to stop?” I appreciated him asking, but if he stopped, I might be reduced to begging him to continue. He made me feel amazing; novelty for me.

“No, please don’t,” I whispered.

“If at any point you want me to stop, just tell me and I will,” he vowed, as he slipped another finger inside of me. My body was melting and his fingers thrust expertly in and out of me, fast and fluid, my hips matching his onslaught in a lustful haze. The waves of pleasures he was bringing me were the only thing I could focus on. There was nothing else, just him as I came hard, holding on to him for dear life, my breathing hard and ragged.

---