Page 102 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

The agent wears a killer skirt with a matching jacket and a tight-fitted white button-down underneath. Around her neck hangs a remarkably real-looking FBI badge.

Considering Gennady only had half a day to scrounge the outfit together, I’m impressed.

Arya meets my eyes for a moment as I pass. There’s a twinkle in her eye. But she never breaks character.

36

Arya

An Hour Later

“I think we broke him.” I drop my power suit jacket in a pile on Dima’s bedroom floor. “He was pathetic and I’m not even a real FBI agent.”

“Did he crack?” Dima is laying on his bed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a fitted black t-shirt. Somehow, he looks just as good in this as he did in the suit, which is saying something. He looked incredible in his suit.

“I thought he was going to pee on himself. He dripped sweat all over the desk and his hand was so damp when we shook. Pretty sure he cried when I left.”

Dima throws his head back and laughs. “I had no idea you were so ruthless. I always imagined you as the good cop type.”

I gasp in mock offense. “Excuse you! I may be small, but I can be scary.”

Dima reaches a hand out towards me, curling his fingers. “Are you sure he wasn’t just smitten? That pencil skirt does things to a man...”

I wrinkle my nose. “He’d better not be. I have a feeling that wouldn’t sit well with you.”

Dima’s blue gray eyes flare. In one graceful move, he grabs me around the waist and yanks me onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

The skirt rides up my legs. Dima slips his fingers under the hem, drawing lines of fire up my skin. “Show me how you interrogated him.”

My face flushes. “I just asked him a few questions. It was nothing.”

“I said, show me.”

I can feel his hard length against my inner thigh. I bite my lip. “I just want to ask you a few questions, Mr. Romanoff. Standard procedure.”

“Procedure?” he growls. “Does that mean we’re doing this the easy way… or the hard way?” There’s a laugh dancing on the edge of his voice. But the fire in his eyes is deadly serious.

“Depends on whether or not you cooperate,” I say in my most professional voice. It’s getting harder and harder to do that with Dima’s hard cock pressing against my inner thigh. “Will you cooperate, Mr. Romanoff?”

“That remains to be seen, Agent George.” Dima slides his hands up my sides and around to the buttons on the front of my shirt. He undoes them slowly. Each one undoes me a little at the same time.

“Mr. Romanoff!” I yell, swatting at his hand. “I’ll be the one stripping you down today.”

“Is that so?”

I grab the hem of his shirt and tug it up. “Yes, that’s so. I’ll be stripping away the lies and revealing the truth,” I say, dragging my fingernails across his chest. “No matter how long it takes.”

Dima hisses and raises a dark brow when I dig my nails into his abs. “I thought you said this wouldn’t be painful.”

“It might be.” I lean forward and swirl my tongue around his nipple before I nip the sensitive flesh with my teeth. He sucks in a breath. When I sit back up, his eyes are darker than they were a moment ago. “But I don’t believe pain and pleasure have to be mutually exclusive, do you?”

“I think you’ve convinced me otherwise.”

“Good. Now, Mr. Romanoff, you stopped unbuttoning my shirt.”

“Is there a question in there, Agent George?”

“Yes. The question is… Why?”

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