Fall(Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 2)(27)

He possessed me, almost without effort, it seemed, the indescribable pleasure of his hardness as he moved, his fingers tight on my hips sending me to heights only he had been able to.

I could feel the anger nearly vibrating off him, but I risked a glance over my shoulder. My heart stuttered when I saw the expression on his face. He was angry, but more, he was determined, face set with resolve as if he were trying to prove something to me, maybe himself, with each viciously passionate thrust.

My eyes drifted closed.

“No!” he said. “Look at me.”

I complied, met his gaze again, not looking away even when the intensity of his stare threatened to overwhelm. The awkward position of my body, the vulnerability I felt as I looked into his eyes, all of it faded as he pushed inside me, claiming more of me with each stroke.

I was almost light-headed with the pleasure, and when the first splash of his scorching seed filled me, I lost what control I had and let the soul-shaking climax take me. He stayed inside me, his cock pulsing with his own pleasure, his hand against my back, caressing me with a tenderness that hadn’t been apparent on his face.

“Sorin, I—”

I broke off on a low moan of protest when he pulled out of me. Before I could speak, he’d turned me over, expression less intense but unreadable. I stood, somehow hoping that doing so would put us on even footing, or at least make me feel less exposed. It didn’t work, not really, but I hoped I seemed stronger than I felt.

He looked at me, eyes reflective.

“What?” I said.

“Who was it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Sorin, I—”

“Who, Esther?” he said quietly.

“My brother. He’s in Hawaii, so his calls come late. Happy now?” I added.

He had the nerve to smile. “Yeah.”

I pushed his shoulder, smiling myself when he barely moved. His smile dropped as he glanced past me.

“You should quit your job. I don’t like you working there.”

“Yeah, well, somebody has to pay the bills,” I replied, following his gaze to the dresser where I’d haphazardly tossed the lanyard that held my employee ID card.

“I can pay the bills,” he said.

My gaze snapped back to him. “I’m not for sale, Sorin.”

“Good, because I don’t buy pussy,” he replied.

“That’s what I am to you?”

I wanted to take the words back the instant I had said them. They sounded needy, desperate, but Sorin just shrugged.

“No, because I don’t talk to pussy either.”

I laughed. “I know that’s not true,” I said.

He pulled me into a rough embrace. “Special exception for you.” He pressed a hard kiss against my lips before pulling back. “Fine, keep your little job. For now.”

“So gracious,” I said sarcastically, but he just pressed his lips against my forehead.

“I can be. And as to the other…” He locked his eyes with mine, his intention clear.

“Sorin, don’t do that again. You can’t do that, answer my phone, try to tell me who I can see and talk to,” I said, voice serious but not strong.

“Of course I can. You’re my girl.”

“What gave you that idea?” I asked, mind rejecting the words even though my heart soared.

“My cum inside you. That’s what gave me that idea,” he replied.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s a first. Like lucky me is the first to be blessed with Sorin’s seed,” I said with an eye roll and a dismissive snort.

He didn’t respond, and the expression on his face was one that I hadn’t seen before. He looked almost…hurt. I shook my head, surprised as it dawned on me that I’d been wrong. It was always like that with me though. I could see the train wreck unfolding before my very eyes, but I couldn’t stop my mouth from running off the tracks.

“Well, whether you make it a habit or not, we should not have had sex without a condom. It was nice, but very stupid,” I said.

He stiffened, glared down at me and then turned, and I watched his powerful body as he dressed. And after a moment, I did the same, desperate to do something, anything, to tamp down the longing for contact, his skin against mine, his body inside mine that had sparked the instant he’d left me.

“So that’s what I am to you? Some fun?” he said, voice accusatory.

“Sorin, you set the rules, remember? This was scratching an itch. Nothing more.”

“And nothing changed? I’m still just a cock,” he asked, his voice going deeper, scorn and anger clear even through his accented words.

“No, not just cock, Sorin. But I’m not like Fawn and you’re not like Vasile, so let’s not pretend,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.