Sweet Depravity: A Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  Then my gaze moved lower, and I barely contained a possessive growl.

  This woman was built for a man’s hands—my hands.

  She barely reached my shoulder, but damn if she wasn’t all tucked-in waist and dangerous curves. Her breasts practically spilled out of the skimpy leopard print robe she was wearing. The neckline gave the tiniest glimpse of a red ribbon and black lace bra. From the tight pink belt around her waist, I could make out the generous swell of her hips. Damn if I didn’t love a woman with a pair of sexy hips. Overly skinny women held no appeal for me. I wanted a woman who could fill my hands.

  Then she’d had the moxie to try to slam the door in my face, and that sealed the deal. As my cock hardened, I realized I needed to fuck her like I needed my next breath. There was no way I was letting a morsel this delectable fall into my lap and just walk away.

  Now she stood defiantly staring me down with those amazing eyes, her back literally against the wall. Her chin rose as she gripped the belt of her robe. “I have no intention of being friends with you. Now get out!”

  She had spirit. Good. I loved a woman with fight in her. They were a rare gem. And this was one diamond I had every intention of making mine. I hadn’t amassed the wealth I had without knowing when to snatch up treasure when I found it.

  With a chuckle, I shrugged out of my suit jacket and slung it over the padded red and black stool positioned in front of a vanity painted the same shade of black with red roses.

  Her eyes shifted from my jacket to the open door behind me. Escape was not an option. The only way she was leaving this room was with a sore pussy after I fucked her raw.

  I loosened the knot of my tie and pulled it free from the collar, tossing it on the bed in case I wanted to tie her up. If I used it to bind her wrists it would ruin the silk of the expensive Armani tie, of course, but it would be worth it.

  I unlatched a cufflink. “No.”

  “I’ll scream.”

  I smiled as I tossed the cufflink onto her vanity and reached for the other one. “Please do. I’d be offended if the woman I was fucking didn’t scream.”

  Her beautiful mouth fell open. Fuck, I couldn’t wait to have her on her knees with those same red lips stretched wide around my cock. Her beautiful gaze pleading with me to let her breathe as I shoved every inch deeper and deeper down her throat.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re insane if you think I’m having sex with you.”

  While it was supposed to be a gesture of defiance, all it did was push her glorious breasts up and closer together. I couldn’t wait to sweep my tongue between them and taste her skin.

  I rolled up one sleeve as I kicked off my shoes. “Who said anything about sex?”

  She blinked as her head tilted to the side. Her heavy curtain of hair fell over her shoulder, exposing one cute little ear. I’d buy her diamond earrings first, I decided as I rolled up the other sleeve. I wanted to see the rainbow flash, from when the light caught the stones, reflected in her hair and eyes.

  I stepped further into the room. She bent to the left and picked up a crystal vase filled with the stems of six dead red roses. Not even a full dozen, I scoffed. An unreasonable, sharp stab of jealousy hit my gut. A woman usually only received red roses from a man. She had said earlier there was no boyfriend, but there was no reason to believe her. I had been holding a cocked gun at the time. Although I knew that if there was a boyfriend, they were done as of this moment.

  The man obviously did not know how to take care of a woman, judging by this tiny apartment with its disgraceful lack of security. If he were a real man, he’d see his woman in a proper condo in a high-rise with proper security and a doorman. He would also see that she always had fresh flowers to perfume the air and make her smile, not make her hold on to a handful of dead petals.

  And as much as I admired her black lace bra from the glimpses I had gotten of it, it was apparent to me it was not high quality. When I’d touched it, the lace felt stiff and scratchy. A woman like her should have only the finest silk lingerie against her skin.

  As her new man, I would make sure of all of it.

  It was extraordinary. I hadn’t even fucked her yet, and already I wanted to set her up as mine. I had never experienced that with a woman before. Hell, I’d never wanted to buy one a condo and jewels before either. There was just something so fiery and vivacious about her. The simple and pure name of Mary did not do her justice. I knew before even holding her it was going to be like holding the sun.

  Closing the distance between us, I snatched the vase out of her hand and tossed it away, uncaring as the crystal smashed the moment it hit the thinly carpeted floor. “Don’t even think about it.”

  She raised her other hand to slap me, but I caught her around her wrist.

  She defiantly repeated, “I’m not having sex with you.”

  “I’m not having sex with you either. I’m going to fuck you.”

  Her eyes flashed as her lip curled. “It’s the same thing and no matter what you call it, it will not happen.”

  I lifted her arm high, pinning it against the wall. I clasped her throat with my other hand and tilted her head to the side so I could place my mouth on her neck. I could feel and hear her gasp as my tongue flicked out to tease the space just below her ear. I wedged my leg between hers, knowing with my superior height she would be forced onto her toes as she practically rode my upper thigh.

  Biting her earlobe, I rasped in her ear, “You’re wrong. Sex is functional, no different from eating or breathing. It serves a purpose, to scratch an itch, and nothing more. It is unnecessary to have a connection or even genuine passion. When it is over, you go on with your life, unchanged.”

  I reached down to undo the belt at her waist. I pulled it free from its loops and tossed it onto the bed. Her robe fell open. I cupped one perfect breast and lowered my head. I ran the tip of my tongue over the lace edge of her bra. “Fucking is different. Fucking is primal. A raw, untamed response to the body in front of you. A deep gnawing need to claim and possess.”

  Her breath came in quick gasps as I moved my hand over her belly to dip my fingers into her panties.

  I traced the lush fullness of her lower lip with my tongue before whispering against her mouth, “Fucking leaves you sweaty and sore, with marks on both your skin and soul. Fucking leaves a limp, satiated body unable to think clearly beyond the delicious euphoria that continues to rush over you in waves, long after your bodies are no longer connected. Fucking is an all-consuming lust that will not be denied. It’s feeling used and cherished all at the same time, and desperately craving the feeling again before the warmth of your partner’s touch has left your skin.”

  I slipped my finger along the folds of her pussy, relishing her slick heat. “Deny it if you like, but I know you want this. Those big beautiful indigo eyes of yours are telling me. So is this pretty flush on your cheeks. Your open lips and shallow breathing. Your rapid pulse.” I tightened my hold on her wrist and said harshly, “So tell me again you don’t want to fuck.”

  Mary bit her lip and swallowed a groan as the tip of my finger teased her clit with soft circles.

  I licked the corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” I commanded.

  Her brow furrowed. Her beautiful gaze captured mine. “I don’t want to fu—I don’t want you,” she inhaled as she turned her head, breaking our connection. “You need to leave, please.” The final word was uttered as a whispered plea.

  “You’re not just lying to me—again—you’re lying to yourself, and your body has betrayed you.”

  I released her wrist and drove my fingers into her hair as I spun her away from the wall. Pulling my fingers free of her panties, I held the first two up so she could see them glistening from her arousal. Her pretty cheeks turned pink as she tried to look away. My grip on her hair prevented it. “Eyes on me,” I growled. When I had her attention again, I sucked my fingers between my lips. My tongue flicked out over my lower lip. “So sweet.”

 
Mary groaned as she raised her arms to press her hands against my chest.

  Ignoring her feeble protest, I pulled her to me, claiming her mouth. I wanted to taste her, and I needed her to taste her own arousal, proof of my effect on her. Her fists beat against my chest. I captured her wrists and pulled her arms behind her back. The movement pushed her ample breasts against my front. The anticipation of tearing that bra off her body, and finally feasting my eyes on her naked breasts, lengthened my cock to a painful degree. Our tongues dueled, swirling and tasting each other. I could feel the moment her resistance faded as her mouth opened and her body leaned into mine.

  I released her wrists and yanked the robe off her body.

  “Wait,” she protested.

  I unclasped her bra and gripped the shoulder straps. Her crossed arms over her breasts prevented me from ripping the offensive garment off her body.

  She tried to take a step back, but the bed prevented it. “Stop! This is madness. I don’t even know you!”

  Wrapping my hand around her neck, I pulled her in for another kiss. “You know all you need to know right here.” I then brought her hand down to my hard shaft, letting her feel its girth and length through my suit trousers.

  It pleased me when her eyes widened. I wrenched her arms away and pulled her bra free. Her breasts were beautiful, soft and full with blush-pink nipples. My large hands wrapped around her waist. I lifted her high till her toes no longer touched the floor. Her hands fisted into the fabric of my shirt as I latched onto one nipple and sucked hard, dragging the edge of my teeth against the soft flesh.

  “Oh, God!” she exclaimed.

  Laving the nipple with my tongue, I turned my attention to her other breast before tossing her backward to land in the center of the bed. Her body bounced twice before she sprang up to rest on her knees and palms. Her dark hair hung in wild disarray over her bare shoulders and breasts. With my gaze trained on her, I reached for my red silk tie. Holding the length between my hands, I watched as recognition of my intent washed over her face.

  She shook her head and shimmied backwards. “You’re not tying me up.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yes, my krasotka, I am.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You keep calling me that, what does it even mean?”

  Putting a hand under her chin, I lifted her face higher. “It means you are my beautiful girl.”

  Her eyes flashed with defiance. “But I’m not yours.”

  I released her chin and twisted the tie in my hand into two loops. I overlapped them, then threaded the left loop through the right, creating a handcuff knot. Snatching her wrists, I expertly forced a hand through each loop and pulled the silk tie tight. Dragging her backwards, I secured the ends into a tight knot around a spindle in her headboard. She twisted this way and that as she desperately pulled against her binds, succeeding only in tightening them further.

  I planted a hand on either side of her head and stared down at her struggling form. “Yes, you are. You’re under my control now, Mary Fraser, and I have no intention of letting you go.”

  Chapter 3

  Mary

  This was beyond wrong. A catastrophic mistake. I knew with my matte red lipstick and leopard print fuck-me pumps I gave off the vibe that I did this sort of thing all the time, but that was definitely not the case. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since freshman year in college, and it had been ages since I had even had sex. Truth be told, the men in my life were boring. Predictable. And worse, they were mediocre, at best, in bed.

  I wasn’t all that different from my roommate, Emma. She dreamed of book boyfriends. I dreamed of actor boyfriends. I didn’t want Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. I wanted Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jax from Sons of Anarchy, Dean from Supernatural, Sebastian from Cruel Intentions. That was my curse. I lusted after the arrogant alpha asshole who confidently sauntered into a room and owned the women in it. The man who knew precisely what a woman wanted and gave it to her—over and over again till she screamed for mercy or in ecstasy.

  Fortunately, I was intelligent enough to know that those types of men made the worst kinds of boyfriends. They would bring only heartbreak. Maybe that was part of their appeal, the dancing with danger, buying your pleasure now with the pain that would come later. That was probably why I didn’t date all that much. Well, that and the fact that this type of man didn’t exist beyond the glowing screen of a television.

  Or at least I thought they didn’t.

  Sure, Emma seemed to find a man like that in Dimitri, but I figured he was a unicorn. A big, sexy, masculine unicorn, but still a unicorn. Men like that weren’t supposed to exist in the actual world. So who the fuck would have guessed there’d be two badass, arrogant, hot-as-hell Russian men running around Chicago?

  Vaska stared down at me and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. I forgot to breathe. Dear God. The man’s chest was sculpted rock covered in ink. As he shrugged out of his shirt, I saw two eight-pointed stars in vivid blood red, gold, and black on the front of each shoulder. I remembered from that book Emma got to investigate Dimitri’s tattoos that two eight-pointed stars denoted a high-ranking thief or master criminal.

  Damn. Was it wrong that he’d just gotten even sexier? Of course, it was wrong. It was crazy, psychotic wrong. This wasn’t a movie, for fuck’s sake. There was no guarantee of a happy ending. For all I knew, I was about to either have the best sex of my life or get murdered literally tied to my bed.

  He turned his back and crossed the room. His whole back was covered in ink as well. As I focused in to decipher the mosaic of bright images, he did something unforgivable. He unzipped his pants, letting them and the rest of his clothing fall to the floor. The man had the greatest, tightest ass I’d ever seen. He reached into the suit jacket that was slung over my vanity stool and pulled out some small gold foil packets.

  Vaska turned and walked back to the bed. And that was when my late panic set in.

  I shook my head violently from side to side as I kicked with my legs, trying to get to a seated position so I could work on the binds around my wrists. “No! No! Stop! We can’t do this.”

  The man was enormous. There was no way he was putting that thing into my body. Nope.

  Vaska tossed the Magnum condoms onto the bed and reached down to stroke his shaft. “Don’t worry, malyshka, I’ll make sure you’re wet enough to take every inch.”

  He placed a knee on the bed and reached for me. I kicked at his hand. My fight only amused him. Climbing fully onto the bed, he easily captured my flailing legs and tore my panties off. Pressing his cock near my entrance, he forced my legs over his shoulders.

  I stilled.

  He grinned. “That’s more like it.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the lethal pounding I was sure I was about to endure. The bed squeaked slightly as he shifted. Instead of the hard, painful thrust of his cock, I felt the warmth of his mouth. My eyes flew open to see his head nestled between my thighs, his arms wrapped securely around the base of my legs, holding me open.

  He met my gaze and winked. Opening his mouth, his tongue stretched out to flick at my clit. Without volition, a throaty groan left my body. His tongue continued to swirl and tease every nerve. Each time I tried to buck my hips, Vaska held me still with his firm grip.

  My hands balled into fists as I gripped the sheets and threw my head back, giving in to the delicious torment of his mouth. The man wasn’t just going through the motions, like most men. He was a wizard. It was like he knew what I wanted, what I needed, before I did. He read every sigh, every shimmy, every held breath and used it against me. Not once did I have to say higher, or softer, or a little to the left, or not so fast. He was perfectly in tune. And damn, the man didn’t just lick; he feasted.

  My back arched as the pressure built. Just then he pushed a single finger inside of me as he increased the speed of his tongue. I came so hard, I forgot to breathe. Stars burst behind my eyelids as the sound of rushing waves filled my ears. My body hung limp from th
e silk tie binds.

  He rubbed my cunt in soothing circles with four fingers and whispered to me in Russian, “Ne volnuysya, detka. YA tol’ko nachinayu.”

  I slowly opened my eyes and stared at him in wonder, as I tried to catch my breath. “What?” I gasped.

  This time he pushed two fingers inside of me, before saying, “I said, do not worry, baby. I’m just getting started.”

  Without warning, he flipped me over. I had to push up onto my knees to ease the increased pressure of the twisted tie around my wrists. I had expected him to position himself on his knees behind me, but instead, he lay on his back and his head went between my thighs.

  I cried out in alarm. “No. You can’t. It’s too sensitive now.” I had never even tried to come twice in a row because my clit was always too sensitive after the first orgasm. I honestly didn’t think it would even be possible.

  His warm breath tickled the inside of my thigh as he chuckled. “Vy zakonchili, kogda ya govoryu, chto vy zakonchili. YA khochu bol’she etoy sladkoy pizdy.”

  I did not know what he was saying, but I was certain it was dirty. Before I could ask, his mouth was back on me and I had to bite my pillow to keep from screaming. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. As I recovered from my second mind-blowing orgasm, his warm skin brushed the backs of my thighs.

  I tensed.

  His left hand caressed my back as his right rubbed my pussy. He pushed two fingers inside, then a third.

  “Ow! Wait!”

  “Shhh. This is happening, krasotka. Let me prepare you.”