Mikhail

26 (R)

I hadn't necessarily been expecting this, but pressed up against the cold and hard brick wall in the alleyway behind Rosso, my preferred and trusted Italian restaurant, I couldn't complain about much.

I had been close to freezing until the heat of his body had enveloped mine and his rough hands joined in to paw over my curves, feeling each inch of the burgundy gown clinging over my body and leaving very little to the imagination.

"I'm starting to doubt my outfit choice," I murmured lightly against his intoxicating and hungry lips.

A menacing and feral grunt rumbled from his chest, silencing my attempt at being funny. His fingers wrapped around my throat to perfectly constrict my already laboured breath, and my knees grew weak.

We definitely wouldn't make it inside, and my hunger was the last thing on my mind now.

"Sweet girl," he gruffed out lowly, hot lips hard and ravenous against mine, sending a pang of arousal down my quivering frame.

With his free hand he reached between us, the minimal space parting to let his burning touch through until it forced my thighs to part.

Past the high slit of the gown his large hand slipped between my legs, never once removing himself from my skin.

A breathless gasp escaped my lips at the force of his action, unbearable arousal flooding over each alight nerve.

"So responsive, kukolka," he groaned lowly at the feel of my panties, pathetically soaked from the moment I had joined him in his car, "so wet."

No longer kissing me, he remained content with watching my expression twist with pleasure once his thumb pressed against my clothed clit, eliciting a faint whimper of despair. I need so much more than whatever he could now do.

"Nothing stops me from fucking you right here," he gritted out viscously, and my thighs pathetically attempted to squeeze together to relieve the pulsating ache between them.

Not even the fact that we're outside, and anyone who passes the secluded alleyway would see us?

We're on my father's territory, on which he's a wanted enemy.

I'm Natalia Wellesley, and there's always someone watching me.

"You're crazy," I informed him unevenly, biting down on my bottom lip when he tugged my panties to one side and groaned with pleasure at the feel of my heat, dripping with my arousal.

His hold on my neck tightened, and my eyes grew wide when he cut off my breath completely. My hand darted to grab his wrist, unable to remove it. In horror I watched his pupils darken, enjoying this.

His fingers loosened and I sucked in deeply, filling my lungs with as much air as I possibly could, before glaring at the sinful man.

In reply he pushed two strong fingers inside me, and my frustration subsided as if it had never been there.

"Tell me how much you need my cock, my sweet Natalia," his gutturally low voice faltered, his Slavic accent slipping through.

His teeth grazed along the side of my ear, hot and heavy breaths fanning over my sensitive skin and drawing goosebumps in their wake.

I moaned out breathlessly when he withdrew his fingers and pushed back in with three, painfully stretching me in the uncomfortable position. He only grunted, as if it was his cock fucking me instead.

My burning body was cooled by a gust of cold wind, but the relief was quickly replaced by the returning ache and unbearable heat of him.

"I want you to beg for it," he demanded threateningly, and the world shattered around me.