Page 105 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

She cries out, a delicious little whimper, as I take each of her hands in mine and plant them on the surface of my desk. Her back arches, and I almost groan at the sight of it. Rarely do my fantasies come true quite so quickly.

I rip open the rest of her tattered shirt, slide my hands under her bra, and cup her perfect breasts. They fill my hands like they were made for me.

Belle presses her ass towards me, teasing the tip of my cock. Without asking, she reaches around and positions me at her opening.

I fill her up in one hot thrust.

She stifles a moan, a sound so intoxicating that I slide out of her and do it again.

With every thrust, I squeeze her breasts and pull her body against mine. But soon, Belle is doing it on her own. She meets my every movement with an eager one of her own until our bodies are slapping together so loud it echoes.

“Oh my God,” she moans. “This is—You feel—”

I let my hand fall between her legs and circle my finger over her swollen clit.

“Magic,” she finally spits out.

I use my free hand to grip her hip, angling her body just how I want it. When I drive into her next, I know my aim was perfect.

“More. God, more, please.”

I thrust again and again, hitting her g-spot as I circle my finger over her clit. I feel the moment her body bends and breaks. She clamps around me, pulsing out the rhythm of her pleasure.

The second she’s done, she goes limp. I slide out of her and flip her onto her back. Then I find my way inside her again.

The desk shakes and groans with each thrust. I move faster and faster. Any bit of self-control I have left fades away as my climax comes closer.

Finally, the tightness in me loosens and I erupt into her.

I move in slow, lazy strokes until I’m pumped dry. When it’s over, my body is sated in a way I haven’t known since we were in the airplane bathroom.

I slide out of her and realize there is no justification for this. No way to spin the truth.

I cheated on my future wife with Belle.

And if I have my way—which I always do—I’ll fucking do it again.

24

NIKOLAI

“You fucked her in your office?” Arslan snickers. “After you tied her up to a chair?”

“Tying her up was two nights ago. I fucked her last night. Against a wall.”

He whistles. “Only you can get away with that kind of kinky foreplay. If I tried something like that, women would call the cops on me.”

“Actually, Belle called the cops on me the day we met.”

Arslan snaps his fingers. “That’s right. I almost forgot about that. Gawdamn, she has got to be an amazing fuck.”

Even the possibility of Arslan imagining sex with Belle has me on edge. “You better make peace with never finding out. Unless you want me to castrate you.”

“I don’t need to find out; I already know.” He sees the murderous look on my face and holds up his hands in surrender, fighting back a laugh. “I know because you wouldn’t put up with all of the bullshit she’s hurled your way if it wasn’t worth it. Not to mention the risk she poses to your deal with the Greeks. Any other woman would be long gone by now. But you’re keeping her around. There has to be a reason.”

Arslan isn’t wrong. Part of the reason I’ve kept Belle around is curiosity. I’ve always liked mixed messages, unexpected outcomes. And this petite young woman from the Plains begging me to fuck her ten thousand feet in the air was certainly unexpected.

But there remains the possibility that other reasons exist.

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