Page 59 of Scars He Gave Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 2)

I’m not going to come off very good in this story. It doesn’t matter what I say or do, I hurt her. She’s had a long time to think about it and build a wall to protect herself. From me.

Fuck. If anyone else had hurt her this way, I’d fucking kill them. And if someone other than me had given her a single reason to think she wasn’t enough, I would make the death slow. Painful.

“I can’t undo what’s been done. I’ve apologized.”

I hate when I’m the one who puts the sadness in her eyes. I wish I had the words to fix that pain. But she’s right about me: I’ve never been good with words. I only know how to speak with my hands. With my body.

I add, “Listen, Corrie…”

I reach out and run my hand down her arm so I can clasp our fingers together and bring hers to my lips.

“I was young and confused, but I’m not confused about anything right now. You’re everything I want. The only one I want.”

Although, as soon as I say the words, a picture of Katerina filters through my brain. Fuck.

I don’t generally suffer guilt. I do what I have to do, not by my choice but by necessity and out of loyalty to my family. Guilt isn’t part of that. But right now, I’m swimming upstream in a river of shit laced with guilt because the woman I want more than anything isn’t the woman I’m supposed to marry.

Right now, though… right here… that shit doesn’t matter. Corrie is all that matters.

One tug and she’s against me. One kiss and she’s melting in my arms. One nudge and she’s on the table with me standing between her legs. Her tongue swipes mine and as she lowers her mouth to nibble my throat, I slide her forward so that her skirt also pulls up, and I can see the wet spot on her lace panties.

She wants me. I glide my palm along her bare thigh—nothing in the world is softer than that smooth bit of creamy skin—and graze her clit with my knuckles.

Her gasp is better than a symphony, and my dick responds. To the gasp, the following moan, to the feel of her. “Lie back.”

“We can’t.” But her eyelids flutter shut when I dip my finger inside her.

“Do you want me to stop?” If she does, I’m not going to make it through the day.

She doesn’t, unless sucking on my neck and tightening her legs around me is a new way to say quit or a modern form of rejection I haven’t heard of yet.

“Lie back.” This time, there’s no argument. “You look so sexy on this table with your legs spread and your pussy dripping wet for me.” She’s not squirming or writhing, but she’s panting. Harsh, sharp breaths. “I want to lick your clit.” My thumb makes a small circle and she moans.

“Please.” Her voice is nothing more than a whimper, and it’s so fucking hot, I rip her panties at the seam and move what’s left of them out of my way.

With every swirl of my tongue, her body tenses a little more and her cries get a little louder. God. She’s exquisite. And delicious. And every fucking thing I ever wanted right down to the mile-high heels pressing into my back, holding me where she wants me.

“Oh God, Tommy!” At that, there’s no way anyone in the building doesn’t know she’s ready to come. I wasn’t going to let her erupt. I want her as hot and wound up as I am so that when we get back to my place later, we’re both on the same ledge, but I also want her to know she’s been claimed.

And I decide I want everyone else to know it, too.

Her back arches, and her body tightens. So fucking perfect. I drink her in until she stills and sighs. My dick is so hard I can barely stand, but I’m going to wait. And tonight is going to be so fucking … I don’t have words.

I slip her ruined panties down. “I’m going to keep these with me.” I push them into my jacket pocket. “They won’t do you any good anyway all torn like that.” With my hand in hers, I pull her against me again.

“I’m going to like knowing you’re walking around all day with your panties in my pocket.”

Again, a picture of Katerina flashes, and I back away from Corrie. I should tell her about the rushed wedding date before it comes back to bite me, but first I have to figure out what to say, and I’m not spoiling this moment.

She grins. “If it gets to be too much, you walking around knowing my panty situation, we can always have another… meeting like this.” Her mouth opens and her tongue glides along the seam.

“Have your people call my people,” I say with a forced wink, trying my damndest not to show her just how sick with longing I am for her.

* * *

Later, in my car, driving to Aleksey’s place, I need to rub one out so bad. Distracted driving has an entirely different meaning, and I eventually unfasten my slacks and let my straining cock have the space it needs.

Aleksey’s house sits on the water’s edge. It looks lonely without his wife and kids there.

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