Ruthless: A Mafia Step-Brother Romance - Ruthless: A Mafia Step-Brother Romance Part 9
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Ruthless: A Mafia Step-Brother Romance Part 9

"You're not getting away," he promises, and when I feel that first press of his mouth against the inner side of my knee, I can't imagine why I'd want to be anywhere else.

His mouth is so warm, and it's traveling up, his light stubble tickling along my sensitive inner thigh.

It's not what I expected when I came over, but as his mouth gets nearer and nearer my pussy, I'm filled with an electric shock that trails through all of my nerve endings. His tongue teases out, tasting my thigh as his eyes watch me all the while.

I'm so warm, my heart pounding so fast and my breathing so hard that I'm nearly hyperventilating. But when his mouth finally grazes against my sex, it's like the entire world just stops. My breathing, my racing thoughts, my fears and inhibitions are all drowned out by the immense pleasure at having his mouth against me.

I moan, and his hard hand pins my thigh back, lifting my calf up over his shoulder. My dress is rolled up around my hips, my jacket half off, my blonde hair fanned beneath my arched head.

"Dimitri," I whisper, and he pushes in harder, his tongue caressing along the seam of my pussy, tasting me. Maybe I should be embarrassed or afraid, but I'm not. Instead, it's almost like relief washing through me. Relief that the world didn't end just because I want this more than anything and am finally getting it.

My fist wraps around the soft blankets, holding onto it as he starts licking me more hungrily, a growl passing through his mouth and into my sensitive flesh. I'm already so embarrassingly wet but he seems to love it, his entire body moving as he eats me out.

My skin prickles with excitement, warmth flooding me as his tongue lashes against my clit and then retreats, teasing me to higher and higher points of ecstasy with each motion. His mouth is delicious, and my head rocks back.

"Ah," I gasp, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. He doesn't let up, even though I'm already squirming like crazy, the sensations building so fast that I can barely do anything more than pant and writhe. He growls and I try to calm down, but I can't. He's just too good, feels too good, and I'm too sensitive for it.

And then he pulls away, just slightly, and I'm left at the peak of no return, anger and desire making my blood boil hotter. I'm like a volcano about to erupt and it's not comfortable being so close to the peak with no release.

"Dimitri?"

His grin told me that I was going to love and hate the next words out of his mouth. His lower jaw shone with my juices, and I feel like I should be embarrassed but I'm not. I'm more curious about what he'll feel like inside me.

His hand moves, the rough pad finding my clit, rubbing against the wetness there as he looks at me.

"I'm not going to make you come and let you leave again, Sarah," he says.

I tug my leg, the one that's bound to his bed, and it makes a little springy sound. "I can't run," I remind him.

His free hand goes to his jeans button, pushing it through as he simply presses against my clit with his thumb. He's not moving, not teasing me, not bringing me any closer to release. Just keeping me on the edge.

"I don't want to risk it," he says, and then he takes out his cock and everything he's said in the seconds prior is momentarily forgotten.

I don't want to be crass, I really don't, but I love his cock. Ever since I first glanced a peek at him changing I've been dreaming of it. Of what it'd feel like.

He strokes it, watching me as I stare at it, and his grin widens.

"You've always been too afraid to lose it to this dick, haven't you?" he growls, and when I nod, he rubs my pussy a little bit more. Stoking those fires just a bit higher.

"You've wanted it for so fucking long. And tonight, you're finally going to get it. And I'm not going to let you go until I show you what I can really do."

My eyelashes flutter and I moan in spite of myself, my nipples stiffening against the dress to the point that they almost hurt. He strokes himself and my pussy in unison, teasing me. He wants me begging for it, but my mind is mush.

Grasping his cock at the base, he smacks his dick against my slit, and I'm so lewdly aroused it makes a crass wet sound. The grin on his face says he's enjoying himself, but he doesn't let up on his teasing. His attempts to make me cave to him.

"You've played with fire too long," he taunts me, still circling his thumb about my clit, bringing me to the edge of oblivion but always, always, pulling back before I find my bliss.

I want it - him - so bad, but it still feels wrong. Every young woman thinks about how she's going to lose her virginity, and I'm way out of my depths with him.

So why does that excite me so much? Why does his crassness make me squirm rather than making me want to run? I've ran every other time, but now it feels right in a weird way. Like the stars have aligned. Or maybe it's just that with me tied to the bed I feel without options. That to call it all off from here would be too much, too hard.

My eyes roll back and I want to curse him out, but instead I reach out, trying to brush my fingers against his stiffness.

I catch a brief touch of that thick pillar of his, the molten steel of his manhood against my fingertips. It's smooth and ribbed with his bulging veins, and oh so hot to the touch, but it's a fleeting moment, because Dimitri brushes me off immediately.

"Nyet," he says, his voice husky, low and taunting. "Not for you," and I can hear the accent rising out in his words as he replaces his teasing thumb with the thick, purple tip of his cock. "Not unless you beg," he adds, looking at me with a devilish light in his eyes.

And for a moment he's of two worlds right before me. To look at him, I see the man I've crushed on for years, teasing and grinning. But that wickedness and authority in his grin and gaze reminds me of the darkness within.

Of the desires I've tried to forget I even have. The ones that wake me in the dark of night, panting and longing for him with such depravity.

I bite down on my lower lip. I can't beg. The very thought makes my skin warm and I can tell I'm blushing as the butterflies in my stomach pick up their tempo. I haven't thought this through very well; I know that, but my desperate need for him...

I've been teasing myself just as much as I've been teasing him, and maybe it's a lapse in sanity as I open my mouth and the softest, "Please," I've ever spoken comes out from between my lips.

The slow circles of his thick, dark crown continue unabated, teasing me so masterfully as he watches me, soaks me all in.

"Please what?" he asks me, his voice so dark and ominous, so dangerous. And I know he's not going to be satisfied with something quite so meek as that. He has me trapped, under his control, and he's not going to stop so easily.

And both seeing and hearing him sound so dangerous... it makes him all the harder to resist. My mind is hardly in any position to notice his own broad, muscular chest heaving with his elevated breathing, his excitement for me so high it did more to him than a vigorous workout.

I have to look away from him. The dark shadows make his eyes seem even darker, and his lips are twisted in enjoyment. He likes watching me squirm, and I know it.

If I'm being honest, part of me likes how he makes me squirm. How I know this is wrong and yet I want it anyways. I swallow, and my voice is soft and wispy, contrasting against his intimidating growl.

"I want you, Dimitri," I manage, my breathing so much harder, the black dress feeling too tight around my chest. "I want to give it to you."

My words do a number on him, because Dimitri's feral eyes widen, and that devious glint becomes one of pure lust instead. The real proof came in the form of his cock.

He guides that thick, throbbing member down from my clit and forces it into my pussy. He's not a complete savage about it, but he splits my pink folds open around his shaft as he sinks on down into me.

He doesn't need to be mean about it for it to hurt though; it's my first time and he's oh so big. That thick shaft much harder to squeeze in then I had even imagined it would be.

The last thing I want is Dimitri thinking I'm a wimp, but I can't help the pained gasp that escapes me. He slows down, his head tilting, and for a second I wonder if he's waiting to see if I'll cry uncle but I don't. I can't.

Not now.

I bite down on my lower lip and nod at him, and he's slower this time and my juices help a little bit as he presses himself into me.

Dimitri gasps and moans, taking a grasp on my thighs as he edges himself into me, bit by bit, stopping now and then as my squirming takes over against my will. I can feel every throb of his arousal, and the way it stretches my pussy nearly beyond the point of bearing.

"Fuck Sarah," he says in a husky, breathless voice. "You weren't kiddin'... you really did save it all this time," he says, looking me over, as if even he didn't believe it. The man who could see through my every attempt to lie or mislead. "You're so fucking tight."

The fact that I made him drop his arrogance for just a few seconds thrills me, and I shift to get into a better position. My legs are spread so obscenely wide it looks almost painful, and between them is him, all tattooed and hulking, pinning me against his body.

I shudder at the sight and my eyes roll up in my head. He looks like an Adonis. A tattooed Greek sculpture. I can barely believe my eyes, let alone the way his cock is making my mind swim.

He grasps my thigh with one hand, while the other rough, strong grasp makes its way up my body. He feels out my figure, over my dress, along my chest, squeezes my breasts as he edges into me a bit more, making us both moan.

"Bozhe moi Sarah," he curses in Russian before leaning down and aggressively kissing my lips, a hard, primal kiss where his tongue delves into my mouth while he nudges the last of his length into my depths with a final thrust.

My mind is foggy, and I'm so warm, so happy. After so long of waiting for this moment, it's even better than I could have ever anticipated. Every throb of his shaft sends a thrill through me, our breathing quickening as we push against each other.

He's so much stronger, though, and the back of my head presses hard into the bed as his muscled body overcomes me.

Those powerful fingers of his sink into my flesh, and he uses my body to brace himself as he tugs back his hips. That girth of his pulling my pink labia as he slides back, glistening with my honey.

The low, pleasured moan he gives fills the air, his gorgeously muscled body rippling with the effort. Right before he plunges back into me again.

It's a slow motion at first, but the next one comes a little faster, and for the first time in my life I'm having sex. Really doing it! And with the man of my dreams no less.

"You're finally all mine, Sarah," he growls out as I stare up at his tattooed form, seeing the beast beneath the suits and civility for what he is. "And you aren't getting away ever again," he insists before covering my mouth with his once more for another aggressive kiss.

He's everywhere. I can smell him, taste him, feel him. I kiss him back, opening my mouth a little and letting his tongue invade me, that wet muscle pressing in against mine. I moan, and lift my free leg to wrap around his body, holding him close.

He finds a rhythm, and after a few moments, the pain dims and in its wake is bliss.

It is no longer just the thrill of finally being with him, of losing that niggling little thing called my 'virginity', it feels good as he thrusts his hips and fills me to my utmost depths. The air is rife with the sound of his balls slapping against my ass, and he picks up pace, those fingers of his holding me with an iron grip as he squeezes my thigh and breast.

Dimitri lifts my leg up over his waist, and looks down at me through narrow slits as he arches his back. He's pounding into me deeply, savoring the way my body rocks with his hammering thrusts.

"You're all mine now," he growls out in that delightfully harsh accent that seems to thicken with his pleasure.

He looks so good, his body covered with a light sheen of sweat, making his muscles even more prominent. I stare, transfixed, my entire body screaming for something I don't have words for. I've been pent up for so long that these sensations are already bringing me close to my climax.

Every contour of his rippling abs is on display thanks to that light perspiration, and I can see him in intimate, glossy detail. The way his biceps bulge, his pecs twitch, but most perfectly... the way his manhood plunges down into my puffy slit, vanishing from sight only to slide back out a moment later.

It's all so dizzying, and he's slowly claimed by his own pleasure, his eyes shutting as he takes me harder. I can feel him tensing but then... then he does something I don't expect with him looking so lost in pleasure.

He reaches his thumb up from my thigh and presses upon my sensitive clit, prodding and circling it with such urgency as he barrels towards his own release.

"Come for me," he demands in a gravelly, grunting voice. "Come on my dick before I fill your pussy, Sarah."

I should be revolted by his crassness, but it sends a shiver through me that I can't believe. I know we're taking a risk, I know better than this, and I don't care. Not as those waves of pleasure crash down on me, making me tremble violently against his hard grasp.

The clench of my pussy brought him into pleasurable oblivion with me. He hammers into me again, and lets howl a deep cry. His cock thrusts into my depths, jarring me as he hilts himself. The thick spasms of his own climax rocking not only his shaft but his whole, glorious body as he pumps every spurt of his seed deep into me.

His final thrusts are erratic, but they are so strong and needful, and he looses every drop of his virile seed deep into my waiting womb. It is a careless risk, but one I can't care less for at this moment. I just want to be one with him, to feel it all and appreciate how we've become one so completely, without obstacle or interference.

My arms wrap around him, clinging to him like I'm afraid he'll disappear now that it's done. I'm scared that he'll abandon me again, that this'll be the end of it, and yet the climax dulls my fears and leaves in its wake a sense of neediness.

"Dimitri," I murmur, and his mouth silences me.

His hands are all over me again, sliding up and down my sides, feeling out every inch of my figure. He feels as hungry for me as he did before we even started, and he squeezes me in those powerful arms, kissing me so deep it steals all my words, then my thoughts.

The two of us still laying there, intertwined, with arms, legs and loins entangled, and this time neither of us is in a rush to end it.

Chapter 14.

I wake up in his arms, the blankets twisted around my legs. His arm weighs me down, slung along my stomach, and when I look over through bleary eyes, I see his still slumbering face.

His brows are knit, and he yanks me closer, as if fighting my stirring and not wanting to wake. I shimmy in nearer, staring up at the ceiling. My limbs ache, and my heart is racing, but I've never slept better in my life in all honesty. Held in his arms, his hot body held against mine, it was bliss and I didn't want to escape it so soon either.

"Mmm," he growls, his dark lashes parting to reveal his cocoa colored eyes. "Sarah." His lips pull into a smile and then he lunges at me, and all of the peace of the morning is shattered by our cries of pleasure.

Bacon, eggs, toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It's funny how just a simple meal can bring back so much nostalgia, and I look at Dimitri with a crooked smile. He gave me one of his button down shirts to wear, but it's way too big for me, and I have to pull up the sleeves to grab my fork.

"Just like dad used to make," I say, and I'm not sure if he made it especially for me or if he just liked the tradition of it. From his grin, I know I'm not getting an answer.

He slathers some jam on his toast, crunching on it as he stares across the table at me.

"I decided our next move," he says, and I tilt my head. For a second I don't know what he's talking about. Rebecca's death is the last thing I want to think about, but investigating who killed her is a dual edged sword. 'Curiosity killed the cat,' keeps ringing in my head.

"Oh?" I stare back at him, uneasy. It's one thing to sleep with him, to have him absolutely punish my delicate body, but this is something totally different. Trying to act like everything's normal after doing it? Like it didn't affect him?

I'm kind of hurt, and take a sip of my orange juice to hide my frown.

"Da, there's a charity auction mother was to attend this Friday. She was to rub shoulders with some of the most powerful men and women in the city. If her hit was because of her business moves, then someone will have information there."

I just nod my head, not knowing what more to say. It's not like I don't want to find out. Hell, a part of me is excited at the prospect. I've always been far nosier than I should be, and finding out who exactly Rebecca pissed off? That sounds like icing on the cake.

"It won't be dangerous," he says, looking at me with those dark, smoldering eyes as if that's what I'm worried about. Honestly, the fact that it might be dangerous only made me more excited. What's wrong with me? "Just a bunch of rich twats who'll think you're there to pay your respects."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"You're not coming?"

He shakes his head.

"I have my own ways of getting information."

The room falls uncomfortably silent. I know his ways of getting information, and those are dangerous. As dangerous as it gets.

I lick my lips. Do I tell him I know about Anton? About Slava? I quickly decide against it. After all, it could just make him angry.

I cross my legs as I take another bite of toast, staring off in thought. The world goes fuzzy and I picture him in his car, driving to some seedy restaurant, his fist connecting with the face of the owner as he interrogates him.

He waves his hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my violent reverie.