Break For Him (Volkov Crime Family 2) - Page 33

I pulled it back and lingered there before standing.

“Good girl.” My voice dripped with husky desire.

She bit her lower lip and shimmied her hips as she fixed her soaked through panties and pulled her jeans back up. She buttoned them as I watched then tried her best to fix her hair.

“That was unexpected.”

“I think you’ve been expecting it for days.” I tilted my head. “I think you’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”

She looked away. I couldn’t tell if that was shame or if she wanted to hide something else from me.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe.” I drifted to the door. It took all my energy not to push her for more, but I knew this was delicate. I knew I had to be careful. “But remember something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” The edge was back in her voice.

“You work for me.”

Anger again. Rage, pure and hot. “Asshole. God damn, you’re such an asshole. You can’t let it go for a second.” She grabbed the remote, the thing closest to hand, and winged it at me.

I caught it out of the air and smiled at her. “Just don’t forget.”

I tossed the remote back and left the room.

Staying there would’ve been a bad idea. I was patient and normally I was controlled, but not with her and not right now.

Leigh, my little diamond, she was going to break me, or I was going to break her.

Either way, it was going to feel right.12LeighI didn’t speak to him in the car that night after he picked me up and I locked myself in my room when we got back to his place.

I felt like an angry teenager.

Didn’t matter though. I could hide at the center of the earth or on the moon—I’d still have him in my head.

His eyes looking at me as his tongue did its work. His smile as I came. The pleasure of the orgasm bursting through every inch of my body.

I’d never come like that before.

Never, not once.

It almost made me want to cry.

That bastard, that piece of shit, could get me off like that.

It wasn’t fair. It was fucked up. A man like that shouldn’t be able to make me feel so good, and yet his touch, his taste, everything about him drove me wild beyond anything I ever imagined before.

I hated it. I hate him for it, hated myself for wanting more.

He was arrogant. He thought he could do and say whatever I wanted and I’d still be his for the taking.

The worst part was—I knew he was right.

If he said stand, I’d stand. If he said strip, I’d take it all off. If he said get down on my knees and lick his cock top to bottom, I’d suck him so hard my lips would burn blue then I’d swallow his every drop.

The thought drove me fucking crazy.

I took a cold shower and went to bed early. I hoped I wouldn’t dream about him, but of course I did. It was fuzzy and technicolor like all my dreams but it was him, it was Owain, kissing my body, making me scream with pleasure.

The monster in my closet, the beast under my bed.

In the morning I made coffee and eggs. He came down and we ate without a word at the kitchen table. I didn’t meet his eye and he didn’t seem interested in engaging me. Fine, whatever, fair enough. I guess he had his taste and he was finished.

He took me back to the bodega and dropped me off.

“Don’t forget the product,” he said. “You’ll have customers again.”

I nodded once and stared out the window. “How will I know?”

“They’ll ask Sander for the daily special. Then he’ll send them back to you. All you need to do is take their money and give them a single bottle. None of them will be allowed more than one.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” He leaned toward me. For a split second, I thought he might try and kiss me. Instead, he only smiled. “Have a nice morning, darling. I’ll be thinking about your lips on my tongue all day.”

I felt a flush of desire and anger in equal measure. I didn’t respond as I pushed open the door and stomped into the store.

“Morning, Leigh.” Sander grinned at me from behind the counter. “I hear our arrangement changes today.”

I softened a little bit and nodded. “So he says.”

“You up for it? The, uh, you know. The guys and stuff.”

“It’s fine.” I gave him a smile and tried to put him at ease. He didn’t need to worry about me. “Mind if I get coffee?”

“Help yourself.” He gestured to the ancient industrial coffee machine sitting on the counter to his right. I walked over and filled a to-go cup. It looked like trash, but I knew Sander took coffee seriously and only used the best stuff. I had a feeling he took a loss on it every day, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Volkov Crime Family Romance
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