Page 80 of Captured Solace

He looked up at me, his jaw set. “I gave you romance the first night I fucked you, baby. You won’t be getting that here.”

I nodded.

He spat on his hand and pressed it between my thighs even though we both knew I didn’t need it. It wasn’t about needing it, it was about staking his claim. Getting the taste and smell of him all over my body until any man who approached me knew to move along.

He slipped the bottle between my thighs and I felt the cold glass press against my entrance. A bolt of pleasure moved through my hips and I squirmed my hips, opening a little, allowing the bottle to enter my pussy. I gasped as he worked the bottle, fucking me with it in long, slow strokes, his pale eyes fixed on my face.

“Part your thighs and keep your cunt tight,” he breathed.

I leaned back against the counter, arching back, uncaring that I might be seen. I knew that to the rest of the room I looked like I was being eaten out and I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted him to do whatever he pleased with my body. To make me so inexplicably his that he could never leave me again.

He put his hands behind his back and his head disappeared between my thighs. I felt the bottle shift and then the cap hit the floor and I realized with a warm rush of pleasure that he had unscrewed it with his tongue and shot the bottle of vodka out of my pussy. My God, this was a side to him I’d never experienced before tonight.

He pulled the bottle from me with his teeth, spitting it to the side, and his tongue moved over my pussy. Cleaning the wetness from my thighs with hot strokes of his mouth.

“I need you,” I begged. “Please, Viktor.”

He was on his feet in an instant, his hand closed around my throat. His eyes glittered and I knew the drink had hit him and he’d joined me on the other side. We were both riding the edge of lucidness, our bodies loose and our minds free. The rhythmic pounding of the music pulled us from reality and made me brave enough to ask him what I’d been dying to ask him since he’d laid eyes on me.

“Fuck me?” I breathed.

His pupils dilated and his jaw tensed. “Turn around and hold onto the bar.”

I obeyed, my pussy throbbing as he pulled up my dress, exposing me to the entire room. Any person walking by could see what we were doing, but the room was too full of sweaty, euphoric bodies for anyone to care. There were probably a half dozen couples fucking on the dance floor already.

His lean fingers closed around the nape of my neck, keeping me still as he unfastened the front of his pants. Then his cock slid over my pussy, the tip splitting my entrance as he thrust home. Pain and pleasure exploded inside me and I cried out as he wove his fingers in my hair and closed them in a fist to hold me steady.

“You’re fucking mine, do you understand me?” he growled into my ear. “I saw you letting that man put his hands on you. Do you want me to kill him, because I fucking will.”

“No, no, he didn’t know,” I gasped out.

He slammed into me and I came hard, my clit pressing against the edge of the counter. Pleasure ripped through me, truly satisfying for the first time in weeks, and I sagged in his arms. A hint of clarity returned as my orgasm ebbed and I twisted to look back at him.

“Don’t come inside me,” I gasped. “I’m ovulating.”

He growled. “That explains why you’re wet like a bitch in heat.”

“Viktor!” I gasped “Don’t come in me.”

He reached around, hooking my mouth with his finger and dragging my head back. “You know where to take my cum if you don’t want it in your pussy.”

His thrusts turned sensual, almost moving in time with the music as he took my body so completely I knew there was no coming back from this. Maybe we were broken, but I couldn’t let him go after tonight. He’d marked himself on my body, out in the open, and after tonight the whole city knew I belonged to him.

Then he pulled from me and I dropped to my knees, opening my mouth. He shoved the tip of his cock past my lips with desperate urgency. Hot cum spread over my tongue and I swallowed it, reveling in his taste. It had been too long since he’d done this to me and I wanted more. I needed more of him.

“Lick me clean, baby,” he ordered.

I took him back into my mouth, licking him from head to base. He tucked himself back into his pants and pulled me to my feet. His hand rested on my lower back, ushering me around the bar toward the door. I glanced over my shoulder as we entered the hall and saw the Australian man, standing on the edge of the dance floor. I could tell from the expression on his face that he had seen everything.

Chapter Eighteen

Viktor

I took her back to my office because it was closer than the trawler. Our pain was evident in the way we held each other, our hands tangled together, our eyes fixed on the road ahead as I drove through the city. She leaned her forehead against my shoulder, half curled in the console between the seats. When I pulled up to the building, she let me help her out of the car and walk her to the door with my arm around her waist.

I took that little gesture and stored it away as an encouraging sign.

Upstairs, I shut the door of my suite, pausing to watch her pad barefoot across the floor. The opposite wall was made of glass and allowed for a beautiful view of the city at night. But it was my wife that held my gaze. It was the perfect lines of her body, the way her hips swayed as she moved to the window, how her hair fell around her shoulders.

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