"Sit, sit, you two. Enjoy yourselves. I'll see you tomorrow."
As I watched Paxan strolling away, I didn't want to let him out of my sight. I had the feeling that he might disappear. But then Sevastyan gave me a reassuring look, as if he understood what I was feeling. It helped.
After that, drinks continued to flow. The hour grew late, but I didn't care because I didn't have work tomorrow, didn't have to deal with first-year students spinning tales about why their papers were late.
My only complaint? I wanted Sevastyan to talk to me, to flirt with me. To touch me. I desired more of what he'd shown me the night before.
I wanted sex with him.
Craved it.
I'd been reminded of how relentless I could be; maybe I should pursue him relentlessly?
To my right, Filip and some brigadiers got into a heated debate about the fastest sports car--which gave me an opportunity for mischief. I was intoxicated enough that the idea of teasing Sevastyan seemed brilliant.
Though he'd warned me that he didn't like surprises, I slipped off one heel, then stretched my hosed foot toward his legs. I made contact with his inner thigh, right above his knee. He tensed, but didn't give me away, just cast me that menacing look.
Was it a good idea to play with an enforcer like him? Vodka said, Hell, yeah, touch his badge! I reached higher. With each inch closer I got to his dick, his breaths came quicker. He gave a forceful shake of his head.
With a lazy grin, I dipped my forefinger into a honey pot, then sucked it between my lips, my smug expression saying, Whatcha gonna do, Siberian?
His own lips parted. Recalling me sucking him the night before?
Higher, higher . . .
Contact.
God, he was burning hot, hard as iron. He tilted his head sharply, his nostrils flaring. And for a long moment, his chest didn't move at all.
With my lids gone heavy, I rubbed the ball of my foot along his length, thrilled when his cock pulsed in reaction. I grew wet in response, dampening the black silk thong I'd worn for him. My nipples budded in the demi cups of my bra.
When I stroked him from base to head, he cast me another look of warning--even as his gaze gleamed with lust. Now it was a battle of wills, a game of chicken. Stroke. He was refusing to react; I refused to quit. Another stroke. Who would blink first?
Wondering if I could get him off like this, I rubbed him with more pressure. The muscles in his shoulders and arms began to swell. The fighter must be clenching his fists beneath the table.
His eyes promised a hot and thorough punishment.
Mine must've been pleading for it.
If I retired to my room, would he follow? Apparently, I would be blinking first. I lowered my foot and slipped my shoe back on. As the sports car debate wound down, I feigned a yawn and rose. "I'm tired from the trip as well." Avoiding Sevastyan's face, I said, "Good night, everyone. It was great to meet you all."
"But there are more bottles to finish," Filip said with an irrepressible wink. Oh, dear, what if he tried to follow me?
To dissuade him, I said, "Stay and have fun--I'll see you tomorrow."
He brightened. "Tomorrow afternoon, then. It's a date."
Date? That wasn't what I'd meant, and I didn't want to get his hopes up. But all eyes were on us, so I decided to let it go for now.
With a last wave at everyone, I made my way out of the dining room. I took my time strolling back to my suite, pausing to regard the collection of paintings in the upstairs hall, wishing Sevastyan would come to me.
And then he did. Striding down the hallway, looking every inch a mafiya enforcer. Expression murderous.
Which for him could be literal.
CHAPTER 15
As Sevastyan prowled closer, I backed up a step, then another.
He grabbed my upper arm, dragging me down the hall. In a deceptively soft voice, he asked, "Did you enjoy playing with me?" He opened a side door, shoved me inside, then closed it behind us. I smelled fresh laundry and brass polish.
A maid's closet?
And it was in a tsar's residence? I could only imagine how many secret trysts had been carried out over the years within these four walls.
He flipped on a muted light, backing me farther inside. "You left me hard and aching, then planned a fucking assignation with Filip in front of me?" When my ass met a linen shelf, he clamped a hand on either side of my hips to cage me in, filling my head with his seductive scent. "Are we so interchangeable? Filip and I?"
"I don't like him that way."
"Do you not?" Sevastyan's voice was laced with rage. "You looked like you did at the beginning of dinner. When he was about to kiss you."
"What does it matter to you? You blew me off, remember?"
"It matters when you decide to stroke my cock under the table till I'm nearly strangling with need. It matters when you were drinking me down less than twenty-four hours ago." Without warning, he shoved my dress up over my hips.
I sucked in a breath.
He stared at my thong, then the black thigh-highs, fingering the lacy tops. "Who did you wear these for?"
I raised my chin. "You."
"So you planned for us to be together? After I'd said no? Tonight you've enjoyed playing with fire. But will you accept the burn you've earned?"
My face heated, a ridiculous reaction considering what we were doing. But I answered honestly, "Yes. I like to."
He groaned, bucking faster. "Then why were you a virgin?"
Between panting breaths, I said, "Hadn't met . . . the right guy."
"Yet you think you have now?" He started a series of swift pumps, sawing his shaft back and forth over my wet clit.
"Sevastyan!" I could almost pretend that he was fucking me, his stiff rod pillaging my core. He'd fuck and fuck until I was forced to come around his cock. Until he'd forced me to milk that thick length . . . "Ah, God, I'm about--"