Page 28 of The Payback

I yank the top of her dress over her shoulders, baring her lace-covered breasts. She moves to cover herself, and I trap her arms against her body, earning a frustrated growl.There she is.

She continues. “That’s the problem with too many organisations, both mine and yours. You think the women don’t know enough. That we aren’t trained in our own way as young girls before any of you can even string your thoughts together as young boys. We’ve been told and encouraged from birth that we were to be seen and not heard. That we were ‘bossy’ when we brought up our ideas instead of ‘ambitious,’ as the boys were called. What the fuck do you think happens when we’re forced to make ourselves small and stick to the shadows? We collect information, hoard blackmail, and notice patterns. All things we can use when the time is right. And Anastasia doesn’t strike me as the type to sit pretty and shut up for long.”

She looks over her shoulder, making eye contact with me and letting me see the fire spark and burn in her obsidian eyes.

“Youare not the type to sit pretty and shut up,” I say, stroking my fingers along her jaw again, and she tilts into my touch, chasing my warmth. “And I like that.” She seethes, but I go on before she rejects me out of spite. “What’s your next move?”

“Befriend her, of course.” I feel her exasperation, and I spin her so we’re chest to chest and walk her backwards until she’s wedged between the counter and my body. Two rigid and unforgiving forces pressing in on either side, trapping her and keeping her where she belongs. “Did you just roll your eyes at me again?” I ask softly.

“No,” she says with a smirk, knowing that’s exactly what she did.Again.

I level her with a look, never moving my gaze from hers. Everything inside of me screams to look down at her partially uncovered body—to trace the splatters of blood on her chest where it seeped through her dress and mark her as mine. But I resist the pull. Patience.

Our magnetism is lethal, and I refuse to be its victim. Not yet, and not alone. Not until she’s done fighting this chemistry between us and finally with me every step of the way.

“Yes,” she admits with a groan, correcting her earlier answer. Finding her boldness, she hisses, “And I’m not sorry for it.”

Instead of feeling defied, I’m invigorated by the challenge. She’s an enigma, constantly holding onto her persona as Elsa and burying whoever she truly is underneath, even when we’re alone. What name she uses doesn’t matter. My soul calls to hers.

The corners of my lips curl into a sinister grin. “Not yet, you’re not.”

A shiver racks her petite body, and I feel the vibration down to the base of my cock, which thickens every second I spend pressed against her. Her chest is moving up and down with the force of her pants, and she’s not subtle as she rubs her thighs together, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

In a flash, I spin her and push between her shoulder blades until she’s face down on my countertop.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” I muse aloud, stroking a hand down her back and gripping her ass. “You’re imagining the many ways I can punish you for your reckless behaviour, and it’s making you wet.”

She starts to deny it—clinging to the role she’s supposed to play—but before she can lie to us, I swiftly snake my hand between her skin and the dress, making my way to where we both know she wants me to go. I dip my hand into her panties and slide my palm past her clit, spearing a finger into her pussy. The sound as I withdraw and pump into her again is obscene.

Elsa’s hands turn to fists as she pounds them on the marble. Using the pad of my thumb, I flick her clit back and forth and watch as she succumbs to the sensations assaulting her body. I’m rewarded when she spreads her legs as wide as the dress allows, silently asking for more.

Adding a second finger, I curl them inside her, inciting a moan to tumble from her lips.

“You won’t do that again,” I say against the back of her neck, biting and then soothing the hurt with a swipe of my tongue. Sucking at the skin until it bruises, I wait for an answer that doesn’t come.

Fine. Neither will she.

I slide out of her sweet pussy in one smooth move and lift my thumb away from her clit. Hovering a hairsbreadth away, I pause, denying her my touch.

She groans in frustration and lifts her head as I admire the marks I’ve left and watch as they colour her pale skin.

“Dimitri,” she gasps, her need clear in her voice. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I smile against a beautiful mark I’ve just left on her skin before my tongue darts out and licks it. “Punishing you.”

Without warning, I push three fingers into her, spreading and crooking them to find that sensitive spot again. I stroke it, and she grinds down on my hand, seeking more of the friction I can provide.

She’s so fucking responsive I have to stop before I’m ready to, or I’ll push her over the edge. And what kind of punishment would it be if she got everything she wanted?

As I withdraw again, she whines, a hoarse sound coming from the back of her throat. Tears leak from her eyes and drip onto the counter below. She reaches a hand back and beats at me with a fist of frustration.

“That all you got, Sabre?” I goad her.

She pauses for a second and, quick as lightning, strikes an expert shot to my spleen. A grunt of pain slips past my lips, but it doesn’t hinder me as I slide into her again.

“Dimitri! Fuck me!” Not a request this time. An order. A crack in the façade she’s wrapped around herself to keep in character.

“There you are, Sabre.” Something about that fracture has me wanting more of her. All the cracks, all the little fissures, as they decimate the carefully constructed walls. I want to demolish them and fuck her on the rubble.

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