Page 65 of Stolen Empire
I lean closer, my mouth closer to her ear now.
"Then tell me. Are you giving me permission to fuck you again?"
Her breath stutters.
She turns her head to the side, her jaw tight, her eyes closed.
But she doesn’t answer.
She's not refusing, but she's not outright consenting, and I made her a promise.
I told her I would not touch her without her consent.
And she's not giving it—even if her body is dripping for me.
I pull my hand free.
Her eyes snap open, wide and startled.
I bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her, holding her gaze the entire time.
"Next time," I say, my voice steady, "you'll ask me—not the other way around."
Her face flushes deeper, her lips parting.
But she says nothing.
"Get out. Go wait in the car while I fix what you started…" My hand works my belt open as she stands frozen for a moment, then moves toward the door.
The unsteady way she walks is comical as I start to pull my dick out.
She glances back, like she can't believe I'd jerk off right here all because of her, but she doesn't turn around fully or stop.
When she reaches the door, she pauses, but she leaves, the door closing softly behind her, and I tuck myself back into my pants and zip up.
Katya is a complication I don't need.
But she's also a reality I can't ignore.
She's mine, in every way that counts.
And soon, she'll admit it to me openly.
It's just a matter of time.
13
KATYA
The card room reeks of cigar smoke and overpowering men's cologne.
I push through the door at seven thirty, right on time, and the bartender barely glances up.
Three men are already seated at the table.
One is shuffling cards with movements so smooth I can tell he's been doing this a long time.
Another leans back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
