Page 74 of Until Death or Defeat

Anything, huh? If he manages not to weasel himself out of his end of the deal, that might be worth the challenge.

I feel my skirt pool around my ankles, and now I stand bare in front of the mirror, only my black lace panties shielding me. His hand trails down the center of my chest down to my stomach, stopping to tease the seam of my panties.

“See, you’re so pretty when you’re like this,” he says, his eyes glinting as he watches the defiant look on my face. “I love when you do that.”

I take a small breath when his whispers that into my ear. I truly hate this man. I hate that he’s the only person in the world who pays attention to me, who notices every little thing about me, every little expression on my face. Is Artem really the only person I have who knows me? The only one who knows everything I’m thinking without needing to say it?

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear his zipper, going to turn my head around but he takes his free hand to my cheeks to keep me facing the mirror, and I have to physically keep my mouth shut so I don’t break. It’s only a moment later that I feel his hardness pressing against my ass.

“See? Much better. Though I do love watching you struggle, the only noises you’re allowed to make now are from pleasure.”

Fucker.

“Take them off,” he demands, and my eyes flicker up to his. When I don’t do it, he grabs my throat, holding it as he pulls me back against him. “Do you need more motivation to listen? Because I won’t mind if I have to do this the hard way, but I figured you have a lot to do later and I wouldn’t want you to be too riled up or bruised,” he teases darkly as I huff and pull them down.

“Put your arms up and back and wrap them around my neck.”

My mouth opens but closes, and I’m so fucking annoyed I got pulled into agreeing to this. Why do I feel the need to prove a point to him so badly? I do what he says, and a small yelp comes out of me when he suddenly lifts me by my thighs, his forearms holding them apart as he holds me up.

It’s...strange, seeing myself like this in the mirror. My face is flushed, and I have never seen myself so vulnerable. So open. Literallyandmetaphorically. Is this how he sees me? Even when I’m hiding myself?

“Keep your eyes on me, I want to see every fucking change in your face as I finally take you.” His tip rubs against my pussy, and I’m shocked to feel how wet I am when he touches me. His cock finally enters me, achingly slow. I can’t even move, can’t create more friction.

He chuckles as he notices my struggle, and lowers me until he’s all the way rooted inside me. “Fuck, look at you. Do you fucking feel me,moya zhena?” The deep rasp in his voice goes straight to my pussy.

My head goes back as he moves me, bouncing me up and down at whatever speed he wants, chasing his pleasure. I’m completely and utterly fucking lost in this feeling, the stimulation mixed with the scent and warmth of him that’s become so familiar to me.

“Isn’t this better when you stop pretending you don’t want me to handle you?” he rasps as he sucks on my neck. The sound of skin and moaning floods my ears as I get closer and closer, the smell of sex and his cologne overwhelming me.

“Look at me. Fucking look at me while I fill you,” he demands through his teeth and my hazy eyes try to find his in the mirror through my orgasm.

It’s graphic; so fucking sexual and messy as I watch himmove me onto him as he bares down, his cock exploding inside of me as he holds me there. I can’t even tell where he begins and I end, our bodies feel like one, fusing together and final.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he breathes out, his head resting on my shoulder as we both are a mess trying to catch up with our lungs.

He sets me down but I’m unstable on my feet, but when his hands go to help, I slap him away.

“I’m fine, I think that was enough touching for a lifetime,” I say as I stand myself up. Why am I like this? Why do I push everyone away the moment things get too real? I think he can sense my tension, and he doesn’t try again.

He chuckles, grabbing himself a new pair of pants from the dresser to replace his now ruined ones. “Do you feel better?”

I turn up my nose, my eyes looking down to the floor. “I’m fine. I could’ve done the same on my own.”

“I think we both know it isn’t the same as the real thing.”

“Don’t be so smug,” I say, tossing my skirt at him. “I’m not happy about giving you what you want, that was only for me.”

I wipe myself off and start to change, the weight of what I have to go do crashing down on me a bit. I was excited to go see my uncle, but now I feel insecure about it. What if this is all wrong, and he was still involved in my mother’s death? What if everyone else is right that I’m jumping into this too hastily? I turn my head and he’s just watching me with his predatory blue eyes.

“You’re staring,” I point out flatly as I grab my jacket.

“You’re upset about something.”

God, how? How can he know everything so easily?

“I’m just nervous, I haven’t really spoken to my uncle in years so he might not want to talk to me, and I don’t know if he has any information we need to catch her killer.”

“Those are both about other people,” he says as he comescloser, fixing my ruffled hair and pushing some behind my ear. “You must be anxious to see him because he’s your biological father. You don’t have to be fake with yourself when I’m here, there’s no one to look tough in front of with me.”