What happened if Luka was gone? Would Dimitrije send someone to kill me?
I was torn with what to do, until I heard fast approaching footsteps. Someone was running. I sank down, trying to hide between the wall and the front bumper of the car, making myself as small as possible.
“Oh, Christ,” Luka said, relief coating his voice. “You’re here.”
I put my hands on the hood and pulled myself to stand, feeling the same relief he had on his face. “I wasn’t sure where to go.”
He sprinted forward and swept me up into an embrace. His kiss burned across my lips, and warmth crawled through my body, heating me all the way to the tips of my toes.
“Who is he?” I asked.
“It’s complicated.” Luka released me and pulled open the passenger door. Once we were both seated inside and the heater was going, he gave me his full attention. “Ivan used to work with my uncle. Now I think he works for the Russians. Even if he doesn’t, he had some big ol’ balls to walk in there.”
We didn’t talk much on the ride back to the freeway. Once we were heading for the suburbs under the orange-yellow lights of the highway, Luka spoke again.
“I’m sorry our dinner ended like that.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about how the evening played out, and forced a joke. “Hey, I did get to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
He grinned widely, and I wished I could see all of it rather than just his profile.
“You should do that more often,” I said.
“What?”
“Smile. It’s so rare, but you look amazing when you do it.”
He took his eyes off the road for a moment, glancing at me. “Maybe I will.”
My pulse flared. What was happening to me? Everything was hopelessly twisted.
We were still twenty minutes from the house when Luka suddenly exited the freeway. I sat up in my seat, confused, and saw how on edge Luka appeared. “What’s wrong?”
“The same car has behind us for a long time.”
Anxiety tightened my voice. “You think someone’s following us?”
“No.” His gaze locked on the rearview mirror. “Fuck, maybe. He’s exiting, too.”
There wasn’t enough air in the car to breathe. I clenched my hands around the seatbelt strap and hung on as Luka drove the car down the dark and rural road. A single pair of headlights followed behind. We crested a hill and he turned off into a new subdivision that was in the beginning stages of being built. Only the model home was up, the rest had probably been cornfields three months ago.
The car didn’t follow us.
Luka snaked the BMW through the maze of roads, circling in a cul-de-sac, and parked. We waited for someone to appear, but after a stressful minute, it seemed unlikely. He undid his seatbelt and massaged away the crease in his forehead.
“I’m all wound up,” he said. His hand came down, and he adjusted as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Get in the back seat.”
“What?”
“I’m not waiting until we get home. I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers right now.” His voice grew with intensity on each word. “Work you until your pussy’s dripping wet.”
It sent a rush of heat straight between my legs, and my mouth fell open. Would I ever get used to his vulgar mouth?
“Then,” he added, his gaze on my parted lips, “when you’re good and ready, you’ll slide down on my cock and I’ll fuck you until you’re screaming.”
My chest rose and fell with each enormous breath I pulled in. The desire for him was overwhelming. Too powerful to resist.
“And I know how to make you scream, don’t I?” His voice was velvet. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Get in the back seat.”
I shrugged out of my coat, got out of the car, and darted into the spacious back. He moved just as quickly as I did, and we were both sliding over the leather bench of the back seat at the same time. I heard the snap of his fingers, and instantly my legs parted. I spread wide for him as he covered my mouth with his.
Being with Luka was insanity. I was crazy and perverted, but I liked the feeling.
He’d raped me. He controlled me. And I was beginning to wonder if he might love me.
“Oh,” I whimpered. He pushed my panties to the side and drove a finger deep inside while his tongue traced the edge of my ear. I clutched at his arm, holding on to his strong bicep while his finger pumped in and out.
“You need another,” he said. A second finger pushed inside. “Such a good girl. You love how my fingers fit inside you. You’re clenching so tight on them.” Because his mouth was close, it was like his words were inside my head. “Say it. Tell me how much you love it.”