Nikolai
This fucking girl.
She’s a spitfire, angry, who loves to push buttons. I should kill her and be done with it.
I’m not fucking sure what she thinks she’s going to accomplish, but this isn’t it. I’m angry, yes. I’m not a man to be kept waiting, to be dictated to by some naive brat who thinks she can grab the upper hand.
She really is her father’s daughter and it makes me hate her a little more, even as much as I want her. It’s a weird dichotomy, the hate and need, but it’s there, and I can use it, because it’s in her, too.
Rose flinches and steps back from my touch, which makes me laugh. Her nostrils flare at the sound.
She’ll dress for me, eventually. It would serve her fucking right if I took the dress from her, dressed her myself.
Actually… I stop, sweeping my gaze over her again, the soft innocence of her unmade face, the clarity of her skin, tumbled hair like she’s just gotten out of bed, which, let’s fucking face it, she probably has. I didn’t bother checking the camera I hid in her room today. I’ve been busy. I have a life, a business, things to attend to while she sulks like the little brat she is. Sulking might not be her go to, but when she’s got nothing to do, and after her tantrum with the tray, sulking seems like something she’d do.
I linger on her nipples that harden under my gaze. She has spectacular tits. I move down past her folded arms to the soft flare of her hips to the juncture of her pussy, her lips inviting and just barely visible. “You really want to go naked, Rose?”
She holds her shoulders stiff and back, arms dropping to her sides as her chin rises in defiance. She’s essentially offering herself to me, baring herself to me, something I don’t think she means.
I’m a monster, not delusional.
Unintentional or not, I’ll take her up on her offer. I reach out and trace the curve of one lush tit, running my fingertips over her nipple. I pinch and twist it lightly, and she gives a little gasping moan that runs like a livewire to my damn cock.
“Put the fucking dress on.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I tug a little harder, then release her. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright, but she somehow drags that icy steel back to her pretty blue eyes. “You are, Rose.”
She sneers so hard, she’s practically growing. “No, I’m not; not unless you’re dragging me by the hair.”
“It can be arranged.” I shift slightly closer. “Not my usual method, but I’m willing to try new things. I’m a man open to experience.”
She wants to step away. It vibrates in the air, her desperate need, but she doesn’t. “I’m done playing games with you when you’re not going to keep your word.”
“I never gave you my word, Little Rose. I said I’d think about letting you go. Right now, you’re not doing much for your case.” I laugh a little, a bit maniacal, a bit taunting.
“Fuck. You.” She spits in my direction, barely missing my shoes.
My anger ticks up, and I close the gap between us. We’re so close, I can feel the heat radiating off of her, smell the sweetness from when she must have bathed earlier. I lean my face right into hers, so our mouths are only a kiss away.
“Listen to me, Rosalind. You’ll put that damned dress on or we’ll go with you naked.”
Her face pales as she internalizes my conviction. “You’ll force me?”
“Depends on your definition of forced. I won’t be dragging you there by your hair. If you don’t put that fucking dress on right now, naked is what you’ll be.”
Her mouth sets as she looks me, daring me to try. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
There’s a little curl to the corner of her mouth, a cockiness to the set of her chin. She doesn’t believe me, that’s obvious. Stupid, really, when I had no qualms fingering her in public. Sure, it was under the table, but Rush was right. It wouldn’t have taken much for someone to put two and two together. They probably did. They probably thought I had her riding my dick. What I skirted a line I never cross. I’ve never felt the need to show my prowess, my masculine pull, not like most of the men at that table do. I don’t fuck escorts, and I definitely don’t do it in public for all to see.
But this is a different game. It’s cold, calculated, even if the girl in front of me is sweet, hot, something I want to lose myself in. It’s not just for revenge, either; no, I want her.
That’s a small jolt. Even if I didn’t know who she was, she’d have caught my eye. It wouldn’t be like this, but there’s a spark there, a pull that has nothing to do with my mission. It makes my path forward slightly tricky. She’s fucking testing me, I know, like a child tests boundaries. She’s seeing just how far she can push, how far I’ll go.
Rosalind’s about to find out exactly how fucking far I’ll go.
I reach out, feeling her flinch in surprise at the contact as I slide my hand around her throat. I tip her head back a little more as I brush my mouth against hers. The tiny, involuntary gasp she makes sings in the air and makes my cock swell. Tightening my hand just a little, I say, “Testing me isn’t smart, Rose.”
She pushes into my hold, like she wants my hand around her neck.
“And obeying you is?”
I smirk. “It’ll get you a lot further.”
“I’m done with you and your games. I’m not dressing up and I’m not your toy.”
“Really?” Releasing her, I slide my hand down the silk of her skin, skimming over where the lace of the slip covers her breasts. Drawing circles over each tit, I watch her. She’s fighting it, her response, but her cheeks flush and her lips part, an invitation if I’ve ever seen one.
I slip the tiny straps from her shoulders, baring her tits to the morning air, and take my time as I take them in. They are fucking beautiful; she is beautiful. Her rosy nipples are so hard, I swear they could cut me. They’re darkened from her arousal, a sweet dusky pink.
Without warning, I grip the slip and rip it in half. It falls to the ground as she gasps. “Now get out there. People want to meet you, Rosalind. You’re ruining my day with your bratty little act.”
Then I consider my words. “Actually…” I trace a path down her ribs, over her stomach, down to her bare cunt. Rubbing my thumb lightly over her clit, I lean in to kiss a path along her throat, biting and sucking, relishing in the soft little moans I’m dragging from her with each nip. When I make it to her ear, I lick along the lobe. “Maybe you’re not ruining it. This is just an enhancement.”
“You’re a fucking pig,” she gasps between moans.
“Language. From such a pretty, tasty, plump mouth, too.” I kiss her lips and suck the bottom one into my mouth, biting down hard, running my tongue over it to soothe the ache as she moans again, thrusting herself into my hand.
Fuck, I love the way she does that subconsciously. Her mouth says no, but her body says fuck yes. It begs, demands. Pleads.
I step back, stopping myself before I can derail us even more. “Out, now.”
“No.”
“Fine.” She’s not heavy, so I sweep her into my arms, pinching her ass when she squeals in protest. “Stop screaming.” I shift her so she has no other option but to wrap her legs about my waist, clenched fists buried in my jacket, the heat of her searing into my chest.
I’m already hard from the feel of her around me, her nakedness pasted to my front. I force myself to not think about fucking her-I can’t deal with that distraction right now. When we get to the bottom of the stairs, though, my resolve breaks, and I roughly shove her against the wall. “Shut that pretty mouth, Rose, or I’ll shut it for you. In fact, I think I will.”
I set her down, still flush with the wall, and kiss her, pushing my fingers into her wet, slick heat at the same time.