The Professional Page 43

“You let me worry about that.”

Maybe the threat of mutual saddling had been exaggerated? Like when parents tell kids: “Go outside with wet hair, and you’ll catch a cold.”

Fool around with an enforcer, and you’ll catch forever.

Sevastyan would never risk an everlasting future with me, right? And if I remained a virgin through this encounter, surely I’d be exempt from any mafiya-logic rules.

But maybe my brain was latching on to any excuse to keep this interlude going. Mist suffused the air, making everything feel dreamlike. And wasn’t it easier to be reckless in dreams?

“What do you want from me, Sevastyan?”

He reached down to seize my ankles and pulled them over his lap, making me spin on my ass to face him. “Do you trust me, milaya moya?” My sweet.

Off went one of my boots and the accompanying stocking. “For some reason, I do.” Off went the other.

Then he reached forward to unbutton my blouse with those tattooed fingers. I was still considering a retreat—until I caught his masculine scent.

Game over. I’d been drugged.

When he guided me to, I shrugged out of my clinging blouse, leaving my bra—which highlighted my br**sts more than it concealed them.

His gaze dipped, and he rubbed his palm over his mouth. “You control this situation, Natalya,” he said, his voice lulling me until I was staring at his lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Before I could think better of it, I’d gone and told him the truth: “More.”

Cupping my face with both of his hands, he brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones. “Then I will pleasure you as I need to, as you need me to.”

I didn’t know what that meant, just knew it sounded necessary and critical. Like breath. “But I can’t sleep with you.”

He dropped his hands, narrowing his eyes with a blatant flare of anger. “All you can think about is preserving your way out? Then rest assured, I won’t f**k you until you beg me. But if you’re not strong enough to resist me, then that’s on you,” he said, repeating what I’d told him on the plane.

No begging equaled no sex? I could resist begging. Then I would be in control. “If not sex, then what do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to give you commands, and I want you to follow them to the letter.” A gleam of pure lust accompanied his roughened words.

How much he needed this! The idea of my fulfilling his “particular interests” wiped my mind of resistance. Made my body pliant, my will weak.

He wanted to command me; I wanted it as well.

He pulled me closer to sit across his lap, until our faces were inches apart, our breaths mingling. He nipped my bottom lip, only to soothe it with his tongue. When he slanted his mouth over mine, I sighed with defeat and welcomed his sensual kiss.

As our tongues began to twine, I was dimly aware that my pants had seemed to melt away. The shock of my bare br**sts against his blazing hot skin roused me. While he still wore pants, I had only my panties left.

He broke from the kiss, lifting me off his lap. “Here, lie back.”

My first order. The bench was about two feet wide, with polished slats. I could lie on it comfortably, but I suspected comfort was not Sevastyan’s first concern. With a nervous swallow, I reclined for him.

He reached forward to tug my underwear off. Then he stared.

His golden eyes were lit with an animalistic intensity so strong it made my heart race.

I followed his gaze as he raked it over my naked body, wondering what he was seeing to affect him so strongly. My normally pale skin was flushed with excitement and dotted with mist, until it looked like it glittered. My restless hips couldn’t seem to stop moving.

He wants me darkly, deeply, my mind kept repeating. What had unnerved me before now turned me on like crazy.

“Close your eyes, Natalie. Do not open them. And remain where you are.”

“Sevastyan . . .”

“I give commands. You obey them. Sdavaisya.” Surrender.

Trepidation surged—but it couldn’t compete with my eagerness. Once I closed my eyes, he left the room. I heard him in the pre-bath. Had he gone for more vodka?

As I wondered what he was up to, I perceived a change coming over me. Any lingering uneasiness disappeared under an onslaught of sensations. I could feel those droplets of mist collecting all over my skin, to stream down my sides and pool in my navel. My ni**les puckered tighter with each whisper of steam. The scent of the fire filled my nose.

The heavy fall of my hair spilled over the end of the bench. I bit my lip when I felt the rumble of thunder in the wood beneath me, a vibration from my heels to my head.

Every one of my senses was overwhelmed.

I grew even wetter, my lips swelling between my legs. I wanted to spread my thighs, to open myself to him. He’d said I was beautiful there, had licked every crevice and fold with a ravening hunger.

I needed him back! What was he doing? Curiosity plagued me—

Rip.

I tensed. That sounded like cloth being torn.

Rip . . . Rip . . . Rip . . .

What—the—hell? I thought I heard him running water as well.

When the sound of his footfalls approached, it was everything I could do not to peek.

“Did you do as I told you?”

“Yes.” My voice quavered on the word.

“Good girl.” He brushed his knuckles over my jawline. Of all the parts of me offered up to him, he caressed my face.

“Um, what were you doing?” I could imagine his eyes following the movements of his fingers.