Page 42 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

I grip her wrist and wrap her arm around my neck, drawing us even closer together. Belle gasps, but our bodies are already molded, my mouth pressed to her ear.

“You came around my cock twice, in case you forgot. But if that’s not proof enough, I’ll give you a taste of next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” she spits, even as she fists her hands in my shirt.

“There will be,” I assure her. “And just like the first time, you’ll ask for it. You’ll beg for me to make you feel good. And I will. First, with my hand. Then, when you’re still trembling from your release, I’ll use my mouth and lick you until you scream.”

She inhales sharply, but her hips grind against mine. Even as she denies it, Belle can’t stop herself from seeking me out.

I know I’ll be coming in my own hand again tonight, but it will be worth it when she breaks. When she finally submits to me.

This is my masterpiece in the making.

“And when that’s no longer enough, I’ll drive my cock into you until you can’t stand it. Until your body is too physically exhausted from pleasure to move. I’ll drive you mad for me, little lamb. I’ll make you erupt. I’ll ruin that pretty little face of yours with my cum. And then I’ll be done with you for good.”

I feel the wind go out of her sails. She sags against me, disappointment and hurt weighing on her. But before she can say a word, I step away and saunter out of the room.

8

BELLE

In the morning, my wrist is sore. And shame sits in my stomach like a block of lead.

Nikolai Zhukova is a monster. He’s a criminal and a liar. A kidnapper and an embezzler. He’s everything I should hate.

So why then, did I get home last night and spend an hour in the jacuzzi tub trying and failing to make myself come?

Forget twice in a row—I couldn’t even get off once.

I wanted it… desperately. But the pleasure hovered just out of reach. I imagined Nikolai holding my orgasm in front of me, dangling it like a carrot as I moaned and panted after it. All I had to do was give in to him. If I let myself reimagine all the dirty words he’d whispered in my ear in the conference room, then I probably could have saved myself an achy wrist.

But I couldn’t. I can’t.

Nikolai is a cancer. If I let him in, he’ll replicate, doubling and tripling and swallowing up all the Belle he can find until there’s nothing left of me.

Elise is still asleep when I leave, sprawled across the king-sized bed with a silk eye mask pulled low over her eyes. There’s no need to leave a twenty on the table for food, since Nikolai is giving us free unlimited room service.

God, I hate him for it.

And I hate that I can’t hate him more.

When I get to Zhukova Incorporated, I head straight for the conference room and unpack my bags. No dawdling and no doodling today. I need to get through this fake-ass “audit” as quickly as possible and get the hell out of Dodge. The sooner I get home, the sooner I can start to purge Nikolai Zhukova from my memory.

“Although that might require a lobotomy,” I mumble.

“I’m sorry?”

The female voice behind me makes me jump. I spin around and find the executive assistant from the front desk standing in the doorway. Today, she has on a tight white dress with a thigh slit more suited for a club night out with the girls than a day in the office. Her hair falls over her shoulders in glossy black waves, the kind that sayI woke up extra early just to make myself look perfect.

“You scared me,” I laugh nervously.

She does not return my smile. “Did you say something?”

“No,” I say. “Well, yes, but I was… I was talking to myself. It’s nothing.”

Her perfect eyebrow arches. I feel like a bug under a microscope. “Right. Well, Mr. Zhukova wants to see you.”

“Me?” I feel stupid as soon as I say it. Of course, she means me. “Why?”

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