Page 64 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

“You like it, don’t you?” Her teeth grit, but through her swoon, she manages to glare at me. I grip her chin in my hand hard. “Glare all you want, but you’re mine now. Mine.”

As my fingers stroke her pussy harder, a strangled cry rips out of her. “Do you understand?” Her mouth is open, gasping. My fingers fall still. Her pussy spasms, clutching at them.

“Do you understand?” I repeat.

“Yes,” she gasps. “I … Please …”

I plunge my fingers into her again as she sinks onto me, her whole body losing it as she comes.

“Whose are you?” I hiss into her ear.

“Yours,” she sobs. “I’m yours.”

Droplets drill all around us. My arms surround her as we breathe deeply. Her body jolts every so often with the after-pleasure.

At some point, I come to my senses and disentangle myself from Joy.What in the fuck, Gavril?It takes every remaining shred of self-control to stride away. Down the hallway. Through the bedroom door.

As soon as it’s closed behind me, I rip off my soaking wet clothes. I’m hard as fuck. Need release. After what I saw, what I felt in my hands … I jerk myself off at top speed. No savoring now. I just need to get this—her—out of my head.

Her parted O mouth. Her jiggling breasts. Her breathless, needy voice: “Yours. I’m yours.”

Fuck.

Yes.

Finally.

When I come, it feels like the orgasm of the century. Like I’ve been abstaining for weeks.

I catch my breath when it’s done. The Macallan M whiskey I stashed away from Ludmil’s kind but unnecessary concern is right in the sock drawer where I left it. I take a swig straight from the bottle.

There. That’s better.

Or is it?

Another deep whiskey swig doesn’t fix anything. The thought still rattles in my head:What the fuck just happened?My hands tighten around the neck of the bottle. I got way too into it with my fake wife, is what just happened. Much further and much sooner than I intended.

So?

I take another swig, put it on the bedside table. No need to worry. I made a mistake—mixing business and pleasure. I won’t make it again.

My head settles back into the pillow. That was it then. “No more touching the girl,” I murmur to myself as my eyes close.

In that moment, I actually convince myself that I mean it.

15

Gavril

When I wake up, I have no idea what time it is, but I don’t care. I go to her. She’s half-clothed and prone on the floor, her chest rising with soft, sleepy breathing.

Her eyes snap open and stare at me. “Uh, hi?”

“You’re on the floor.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Yeah.” She props herself up on one arm. “Bed was too soft.” I wait for more and she smiles a bit self-consciously. “By now, I guess I’m more used to sleeping on the ground.”

I can’t help it; I laugh. She chuckles a bit, too.

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