Page 47 of Sinister Promise

My hand snapped out, wrapping around her delicate throat before I yanked her body back to mine.

Her bare skin pressed against my suit, my breath hot against her ear.

The softness of her curves against me, separated only by the thin fabric of my shirt, nearly undid my control. Her pulse hammered against my palm, her skin hot and alive beneath my fingers. Every breath she took, every tremor that passed through her body, elevated the experience.

"Careful," I whispered, tightening my grip. "I'm not a patient man."

She struggled in my grip, her teeth gritting as she tried to get away from me. The friction of her body against mine only inflamed my desire further, my erection pressing insistently against her hip.

I tsked. "You're going to learn to behave one way or the other."

"Get off of me," she grunted.

"Not until you learn what it means to be mine."

I reached for my belt.

She wanted to learn the hard way, and I was happy to teach her.

CHAPTER 11

PAVEL

"Put your hands on the table," I demanded, and Alina froze against me.

"What are you going to do?" she whimpered.

"You ran from me last night. And even now, when I have you trapped, you fight me." I brushed her hair to one side of her body, revealing her breast to my gaze in the mirror.

Her soft skin and delicate curves were a contrast to the hard lines of my black suit.

"You haven't quite grasped the severity of your situation," I said, placing my hand on her hip and running my fingers from the cheap fabric of her garter up to the soft skin of her stomach.

I traced the line of her curves. The hollow of her stomach was a little concerning, but not surprising. Any woman having the money for a good meal wouldn't be working here.

Slowly, methodically, I smoothed my fingers uphigher, over her rib cage to the swell of her generous breasts.

"What are you going to do to me?" she said with a gasp as her nipple hardened even more under the attention of my fingers.

"Whatever I want," I answered honestly, and a low whimper sounded in the back of her throat. "Right now, I need to make sure you understand what happens when you are a bad girl."

Her lids sank closed for a moment, and I studied her expression in the mirror. Her fists were clenched at her sides and her thin stomach flexed. She was scared and trying desperately not to show it.

She was so brave. Too bad it was too late for that to help her.

Her wide, shimmering brown eyes flashed open and darted to the mirrors lining the wall, focusing on her own reflection, as if she could somehow disappear into it. She gave a tiny, barely perceptible shake of her head.

A silent plea on her lips.

Soon she would realize the only plea I would ever accept would be the one where she begged for more.

I exhaled, slowly and deliberately, as I unbuckled my belt with an unhurried flick of my wrist.

The soft leather slid free, the sound slicing through the thick pulsing tension in the room. "I won't repeat myself,moy kotyonochek. The more you fight it, the worse it'll be."

She let out a tiny whimper, still staring at herself in the mirror. Still not moving.

"But by all means," I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "let's make this much, much worse."

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