Page 69 of Dagger in the Sea

I ground my jaw, my gums aching, balls throbbing. Adriana’s hand swept up my middle and stroked back and forth, back and forth, her breathing choppier than before. Our gazes locked in the half light, her blue gray eyes molten ink.

Luca turned to us and winked.The fuck.

The back of my throat burned. Luca had an endgame in mind here, I was sure of it, and we were his pawns. We were at the mercy of an Aliberti. I planted a tense kiss on Adriana’s forehead, and she let out a low moan, her arms snaking around my waist. Most of all, I was at her mercy.

Other spotlights deeper in the room revealed women and men strung up on St. Andrew’s crosses, ball gags in their mouths, being whipped dramatically. A woman was bound to a bench and being caned. Adri flinched at the sounds—the woman crying out, the thrash of the cane, at the harsh red marks blistering white flesh. The most popular seemed to be two women with masks over their eyes bound tightly, legs up, with small electrodes attached between their legs, on their nipples. Laughing, people took turns zapping, making them come repeatedly. Others only watched as they got serviced by their companions—given head, stroked. Evgeny Berezin knew how to put on an extravaganza, a three dimensional spectacle.

There were no rules, no good, no bad, no do or don’t. Only one thing. Take. The only thing that mattered was the intensity of your satisfaction and the thrill of reaching for more.

Another softer light suddenly flickered on and illuminated a low cushioned leather platform in the shape of an X on which two naked couples danced. An erotic acrobatic ballet. Licking, rubbing, humping; a choreographed tangle of limbs and moans. A blur of sensation.

One of the female dancers rose from the pile of flesh and went to a man and danced before him, pulling him over to the cushions. Magnetized, the audience immediately followed to witness whatever would follow, to engage in more. A couple brushed past us, stumbled over to the sofa and started to screw, and another to kiss and clutch, and another.

Adri’s hand squeezed mine. Her breath quickened. Was she panicked, upset, or was she turned on? Was she burning like I was? With her body pressed to mine, her curves splaying out of her dress, her perfume all over me, the taste of her tongue still on mine, raw desire swelled in my blood, tearing through my veins, ripping through my flesh. Her breasts crushed against my chest as she molded herself around me.

Turned on.

My hand slid down the back of her dress over her hot, bare flesh, and she trembled, letting out a cry. I found the swell of her ass and stroked her there, my heart pounding, my pulse going crazy.

A rush of heat blew through me. We were down some goddamn Russian rabbit hole and part of me just didn’t care. The only thing that was real right now, the only thing that mattered was Adriana’s touch on my body, her hands, her lips.

She stroked my chest. Skimming up, pressing down. Up and down. I wanted to rip off my shirt and feel her flesh against mine, the hard metal beads of her dress scraping down my skin as my tongue invaded her mouth, her hair in my fist. Her hand slid down my torso and palmed my erection.

My body seized, I stung. “Adri.”

Her hand pulsed and stroked firmly over me. She turned into my chest and with her free hand, pulled my head down, and our lips finally touched. Warm and searching. Insistent and restless. We kissed to fuck. Need, spiraling need and raw desire bound us together. I clutched her ass and brought her in between my legs, nestling her right where my ache and hers demanded.

Taking her mouth, I swallowed Adri’s cries and groans. The moans and whispers that had been lodged in my throat finally rose all around us. Thecrackof the cane, thesnapof the whip made her body jerk in my hold and open to mine. Muffled grunts, excited giggles, greedy demands razored past us.

I wanted nothing more than to pound into her and make her body ripple with pleasure, and for her to tear me in two. But that would be giving into the Russian madness, to Luca’s manipulation. To Gennaro’s smug indifference.

My heart raced painfully, my stomach roiled. For the first time in a long time, I felt paralyzed, as if I needed someone to tell me what to do. My need for her skyrocketed as the friction we’d created threatened to combust.

I nuzzled her lips, kissing the edges of her mouth.

“Turo, Turo…” her ragged voice clawed at my flesh, her warm lush lips opening under mine.

What I needed to do was to protect her, keep her safe. At all costs.

“Shh.” I brushed her lips with mine.

Stop. Stop.

“Lovely…” Was that my voice? Husky and choked. I nipped at her bottom lip to get my sanity back, to stay connected to her. To keep her alert with me.

My hands cradled her face. Her jaw was set, cheeks streaked with red, skin damp. “Not now, baby. Not here,” I pleaded. Yes, I was pleading before I exploded and pushed her against the wall. Before I lost it. “Here they have us where they want us. And I’m not sure what that is yet.”

She smashed her face in my chest and a breath heaved from me, my arms wrapping around her, holding her tight. Inhaling the flowery scent of her hair, digging my fingers into her silky waves, I shut my eyes and dragged in a deep breath.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” I muttered.

Before we went too far.

Before—

I pulled her out of the room, the two of us cemented to one another and moving fast. Fragrant, thick cigar smoke wafted in the hallway from the room opposite. Another party was in full swing inside—girls twisting around stripper poles, lap dancing to pop music, sucking cock.

How very ordinary.

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