Page 25 of Savage Princess

Levin

I’m at the absolute end of my self-control.

Thankfully, Elena doesn’t remind me of Lidiya, not exactly. I don’t think I’d be able to bear it. The situation is painfully similar, in that I’m responsible for Elena’s safety, all the while, I’m falling prey to her charms and my desire, but at least she’s notworkingfor me. She in no way resembles Lidiya physically, either. There’s been no instance in which I’ve looked down at her and seen Lidiya’s face instead, as I have with so many women over the years. When I look at her as she arches beneath me, I only see Elena.

Which is far more dangerous for us both.

As is what shedoesremind me of.

She reminds me, more than anything else, of a time when I was more open to trying to be happy, when I still felt that there was a chance I could enjoy my life—a time when I had hope that there was more than the endless blood and death that I churned out for the Syndicate. She reminds me of when I was young enough to see so much more of life stretching out in front of me, before so many doors were closed.

Before, I was sure I could see how the rest of it would go and how it would end.

Her optimism is infectious. I shouldn’t have let it get to me, shouldn’t have let her lighten the mood, or convince me to drink with her or to play that ridiculous fucking game, but Idid. It felt like more happiness than I’ve had in years.

And now I’m battling being intoxicated, combined withher, which is more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol could ever be.

Not to mention her begging me, as her hand presses against my cock, for me to be her firstagain.

What the fuck is a man supposed to do when a girl like Elena begs him to be the first man to fuck her in the ass?

I wouldn’t even have to feel bad about coming inside of her.Just the thought of that, of my cock buried in her tight virgin ass, spurting cum deep inside of her as my thumb rolls over her clit to make her come too, has my cock about to break through my fly, dripping enough pre-cum that I think I might soak my jeans.

Don’t you fucking do it, Volkov.

I know better. Ifuckingknow better, just like I knew better than to take her virginity on that goddamned beach, but at least then I had the excuse that I legitimately thought we were going to die. I don’t have that excuse any longer. If I do this now, it’s a conscious decision that I’m going to take Ricardo Santiago’s daughter to Boston, having thoroughly fucked her in every way a woman can be fucked, and I hope to god it doesn’t have any lasting consequences for either of us.

“No.” The word feels like it’s being dragged out of me, and the wounded look on her face doesn’t help one bit.

I run my hand over my hair, battling the fuzzy feeling of too much beer and the throbbing sensation in my jeans, and the fact that more than anything, I want to tumble Elena back down onto that bed and give her my cock so thoroughly that she’ll taste and feel me in every part of her for days. I want to fuck her until she can’t walk. I want her to never, ever fucking forget what I feel like inside every part of her.

“Elena, listen to me.” I look at her, trying to choose my words as carefully as I can in the circumstances. “This isn’t how it should happen if it were going to. You’re drunk, and you might regret it in the morning. I wouldn’t have taken your virginity the first time if you were drunk, and I won’t do this now when you are, and might—”

“I dare you.” She tips her chin up at me in that so-familiar way, and I glare at her, feeling a sudden, unreasonable surge of anger.

“Goddamn it, Elena!” I snap at her more harshly than I meant to, and I feel bad when she recoils, her eyes widening. “You need to stop treating this like a game,” I continue, lowering my voice a little.

“Levin–” She starts to reach for me, but I’m already getting up from the bed, my head and my cock both throbbing, and I reach for my shirt and drag it on over my head.

“I’m done with this for tonight,” I tell her firmly, and stalk towards the door.

It’s raining out when I finally get the dresser away from the door and step outside. I stand under the awning, looking out over the empty parking lot, and I fumble in my pocket for a pack of cigarettes. I rarely smoke—a habit I kicked years ago, even before Lidiya—but I’ve always kept a single pack on me for those moments when Ineedsomething. Right now, with my cock aching and every cell in my body screaming to go back inside to her, I need a fucking cigarette.

The night fits my mood, chilly for early summer, wet and dreary. I light the cigarette, taking a deep drag, and try to find the resolve to go back in soon, and tell her that we can’t do this again.

No more drinking. No more kisses. No more touching and making each other come but not quite going all the way. Because eventually—

Eventually, I’ll break again, and I’ll end up inside of her. Just the thought has my cock jerking against my fly, begging to be freed. And once I’ve fucked her a few times, and she begs for it in the ass again—

“Fuck!” I groan aloud, taking another deep drag, blowing the smoke out into the rain. I need to get her back to Boston, and then I need to take a fucking ice bath, and maybe with enough of those and enough states between us, I can finally start to put this behind me.

For her,I tell myself,it won’t be as hard.She wants me now because fucking me is new and exciting, and I satisfy some romantic urge for her. But once she’s in Boston with her family, once she has a whole city of men her age lining up to date her, she’ll be glad she didn’t fall for the man twenty years older than her who gave her her first taste of pleasure.

She’ll be glad she didn’t give meeverything.

I just have to hold out long enough to get her back home. And then I can go back to—

What, exactly?I ask myself, feeling a dismal malaise starting to settle over me as I blow out another puff of smoke.My job training assassins and spies for Viktor? The endless parade of faceless women in my bed? The nights spent drinking myself to sleep?

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