Keep(Romanian Mob Chronicles 1)(25)

Then I released him and pushed him down on the edge of the bed. He leaned back on his hands, his huge chest heaving, his cock rising from between his legs, beckoning me.

I answered the call and stepped toward him and then straddled him slowly. I reached between our bodies and gripped the base of his shaft, stroked it along my slit. We both cried out at the contact, and Vasile again grabbed my hip, his hold almost punishing, but the gleam of pleasure in his eye more than worth it. I circled my clit with the head of his cock and then lifted my hips and centered him at the edge of my opening.

Gazes connected, I lowered slowly, filling myself with him inch by inch until he was fully inside me, our bodies as close as they could possibly be. I wrapped my legs around him, and then he sat up, put his arms around me, crushing my breasts against his chest. I was surrounded by him, couldn’t break away unless he allowed. But here, like this, was as safe, as loved as I had ever felt.

He bit at my shoulder, and I pressed my lips against his neck and then, wrapped in his embrace, I rocked against him in an awkward rhythm that was absolutely perfect. My breathing grew erratic as the pleasure swelled and Vasile’s hardness pulsed inside me, his warm breath on my shoulder, his arms around my back showing me his pleasure better than anything else could.

Then he stilled, went rigid beneath me, and the first jet of his cum triggered my own release.





Fifteen





Vasile



* * *



“Vargas send you?” I asked Priest without bothering to look up.

“No one sends me anywhere,” he replied before he settled across from me at the table.

“So to what do I owe this visit?” I asked, leaning back to look at him.

He just shook his head. “That was foolish, Vasile.”

“So I should have let that idiot insult me? Insult her?” I said, slamming my hand on the table.

“And what of Vargas? You were in his home,” Priest said.

“I’ll give him back five percent. That should soothe any hard feelings,” I said.

“It will,” Priest said. “So have you considered expanding relations with Clan Constantin?”

“So the lecture is over?”

“How many times have I told you I wouldn’t waste my breath on a Petran?” he said.



Fawn

“I wait outside,” Oleg said, his words slow, heavy with his accent.

He stood at the front door shuffling nervously and not meeting my eyes.

“Yes. I don’t need anything,” I said carefully in deference to the language barrier, nodding and smiling, though both were probably lost on him since he hadn’t actually looked at me directly.

“You stay here?” he said, meeting my eyes this time, face serious.

“Yes.” I ended with another smile and after a moment, he turned to leave.

Vasile had left before dawn this morning, told me that Oleg would be here to watch me. I hadn’t liked the sound of that, had had half a mind to protest, but habit made me hold my tongue. Now that I was alone, the silence was disquieting.

Somehow, in just these few days, he’d filled my world, the tension and uncertainty of our first meeting and then later, the intensity of our coupling had filled my mind. And now that he was gone, thoughts I’d fought hard to keep at bay were rearing their heads, thoughts of one person in particular.

Esther.

I’d never told anyone about her, hadn’t had anyone to tell. And I forced myself not to think about her because thinking about her meant I had to think about myself, think about the life I had let David take from me.

It hurt.

Badly.

But last night, held in the cocoon of safety that Vasile’s arms had become, feeling a peace that had always evaded me, I’d opened that door. And now, even though he wasn’t here, the door remained open.

I jumped up from my perch, grabbed my handbag, and was headed toward the front door before I stopped to think.

Back then, Esther had lived about twelve blocks from here. Maybe she still did. I had nothing but time so I could go and see.

I reached for the doorknob and looked at the car, Oleg sitting inside. I debated whether or not to get his attention. It seemed wise, but he’d want to come with me, and the lure of exploring, maybe finding something of myself by myself was too alluring of a pull.

So I stood, torn. Then I shook my head and opened the door. Vasile had said I wasn’t a prisoner, that I belonged to no one but myself, so I needed to start acting like I wasn’t.

My heart thudded as I walked away, a voice at the back of my head nagging at me that I was doing something wrong, that I would get in trouble.

And it was that very thought that pushed me on.

Trouble.

I didn’t belong to anyone, didn’t answer to anyone. And I was sick and tired of feeling like I had to.