He watched me for a second that felt like an eternity, and then, a cruel, disbelieving chuckle escaped him, showing off sharp incisors. After wiping the mirthless laugh away with a hand, he gritted, “Don’t say you didn’t ask for it, kotyonok.”
In one stride, he grabbed the nape of my neck and pulled my mouth to his. The rough action stole my breath, which escaped in a hiss of pain when he bit down hard on my bottom lip. But as he soothed the sting with a soft lap of his tongue, a flame ignited, expanding liquid fire between my legs.
If the kiss was a chess game, I was the bespectacled novice. And he was the cheater who wiped the board clean and fucked me on top of it.
My mind disliked this man with a passion right now. I tried to shove him away, to turn my mouth from his, but the iron grip on my nape didn’t relent. My body held a different stance. It inhaled the heat of his, begging for more force, more intensity, more friction—so much more. The hot press of his lips and the taste of cinnamon sent a desperate hum through my blood, drawing me so close to the edge a cold sweat battled the inferno within. He slid his tongue against mine, creating a heavy ache in my core that scattered all thoughts for a feverish second.
Breath ragged, the struggle slowed, and my hands stilled on his chest. Vengeance bled into his kiss, which was soft yet furious and somehow cold—just like the look in his eyes before he left me on my knees this morning. He didn’t want me then. He only wanted me now to prove a point: I was his insurance, and only he could fuck with me.
Just as he thought the fight in me had faded, I bit down on his bottom lip so hard I tasted blo
od and threw my knee up. He evaded the hit to his groin with a growl and shoved me away from him. I caught my footing, the lack of his body heat making me cold.
“Where’s the passion you gave Ivan, kotyonok?” he asked harshly, wiping blood from his lip with a thumb. “I won’t believe you have reservations about kissing two men on the same day.”
A knot of anger stretched in my chest, forcing the insult from me. “The only reservation I have is kissing you.”
The next second of silence suffocated me, his eyes not leaving mine while a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I guess we’re both narcissistic then.”
Knowing his twisted definition of “lucky,” I swallowed and watched him warily. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
A sinful glint stole the heat from his eyes, the words cool and apathetic. “I’ve never been one to mix kissing and fucking.” The hiss of his Montblanc belt sliding through its loops dropped my stomach like a lead weight.
He didn’t intend for tonight to end with a cold shower.
Heart pounding like a racehorse’s hooves on dirt, I backed up until I bumped into the couch. The metal buckle hit the floor with a clank, stretching my skin taut. I told myself to stay strong and retain my dignity at all costs, but when he took a single step in my direction, I blurted, “I’m a virgin.”
He didn’t even consider it before laughing humorlessly. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
I shouldn’t have cried wolf so many times. Now, it was going to screw me over—literally.
“It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” My voice shook. Each step he took toward me, I mimicked in the opposite direction until I stood behind the couch, a simple piece of furniture the only divider between us.
“Mm. We don’t know each other that well yet, but we will.” A shattered piece of porcelain crunched beneath his boot.
“You act like it will be memorable for me,” I retorted, forced to the front of the couch when he stepped around it.
“I’m sure it’ll be different than your experiences with pampered college boys.”
Frustration tunneled beneath my skin. That was the exact thought that led me into D’yavol’s arms, putting me in a position to be circling a couch to stay away from him.
“Ivan isn’t a college boy.” There Madame Richie went again, throwing Ivan under the bus.
His eyes narrowed dangerously as he braced his hands on the back of the couch. “Maybe not, but he is a pussy.”
“You don’t even know him,” I accused.
The subtle, dry look he gave me only affirmed my suspicion they knew each other, but the thought faded when fury reflected in his gaze, his voice harsh. “Mention him to me again, and you’ll be sleeping outside with the dogs.”
Uncertainty tugged at my throat. I countered one of his long strides, quickly taking a few steps to match it. “Stop sweet-talking me,” I said breathlessly. “I don’t think my heart can take any more romance right now.”
He almost looked as if he wanted to laugh—this man who was stalking me like a psychopath—but the darkness in him contained the humor.
“Your mouth isn’t going to save you this time.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but I also didn’t care at the moment. When I stepped to the side, he mirrored the motion. Nervousness radiated in my every cell, pouring out in winded words.
“I hope this isn’t how you normally get laid. It’s exhausting.”