Page 2 of Love to Defy You
“I’m kidding.”
“I’m firing him tomorrow,” Alek growls. “For daring to look at what’s mine.”
Before I can make the case for the innocent gardener to keep his job, Alek dives forward and punches his tongue inside me, making my hips buck against his face. Grinning, I lean back on my elbows and close my eyes to relish the delicious pleasure.
Alek and I have spent the past eight months traveling Europe together, and along the way, I learned how to press his buttons. Sometimes, I’ll flirt with another guy, just to see his jealous side come out. A sick, twisted part of me wants to see how far he’ll go to punish the men who dare to flirt back.
But the real excitement lies in the way he punishesmeafterward. Nothing turns me on more than watching the cold, calculated layers of control fall away as he unravels with jealousy over me. And the way he fucks me when he’s mad with envy? Possessive. Wild. It’s so fucking hot.
Alek leans back, leaving me a sweaty, panting mess. “You love making me angry, don’t you?”
His mouth is coated in my arousal, which catches the sunlight. Goddamn, he’s beautiful.
And he’s mine. All mine.
I nod. “Yeah, I do.”
With a low growl, Alek flattens his tongue against me and drags it up. I gasp as pleasure races through my body, radiating from my core. The impending orgasm lingers in the periphery, but Alek knows exactly how to edge me toward it without giving it to me.
But the wait makes the eventual climax feel like searing euphoria. In the end, he always lets me have it.
Except for today.
Alek’s phone rings in his pocket, and he sighs against my sex. When he sits back on his knees, I nearly sob with frustration.
Using his thumb, he wipes away my excess juices from his mouth and answers the call. “Mat‘.“ Mother.
A spew of Russian vitriol comes through the earpiece, so loud even I can hear it. Alek lets her unload in silence, with only an occasional hum of acknowledgment.
He’s taking a call from hismotherinstead of letting me come. Glaring at him, I reach down to finish myself off, but he slaps my hand away.
Asshole,I mouth at him.
With a smirk, he covers the mouthpiece of the phone and pulls it away from his ear. “That’s for lying to me about the gardener.”
I stick my tongue out at him as he brings the phone back to his ear. However, his eye starts to twitch the longer his mother carries on. After a few minutes, he says something curt to her in Russian and hangs up the call.
“What did she want?” I ask.
Alek slides his phone back into his pocket with a weary sigh. “My mother has worked herself into a frenzy because Ana’s betrothal fell through. Again.”
“Jesus.” I settle back on the lounger and fold my arms. “She’s only sixteen.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
Ever since the Kurochkin family was exiled from Andarusia, Alek, his mother, Olga, and his younger sister, Anastasia, have been personae non grata in wealthy Russian society. When Alek threw his support behind the Labor Party, the Russian oligarchs puppeting Andarusia behind the scenes viewed this as the ultimate betrayal of the elite ruling class. The same ruling class that put the Kurochkins in power in the first place.
Which means Olga has had trouble securing wealthy Russian husbands for Anastasia from their luxury apartment in Paris. Just when Olga comes close to negotiating an engagement, it falls through.
“And what does she wantyouto do about it?“ I ask.
Alek sighs. “I need to travel to Moscow to take care of some business.”
“Moscow?” I sit up straight. “For what business? Why can’t your mother deal with it? She’s the adult.”
He runs his fingers through his hair again, giving him a wild appearance. “Can we not talk about my mother when my face is buried in your pussy?”
I glance down between my bare thighs, which are still spread wide for him. “I don’t see your face anywhere near my pussy right now.”
