I, on the other hand, am a keg of dynamite about to explode.
“Wolf!”
He responds to my desperate cry by shoving two fingers into me as he works my clit. I barely have time to process the intrusion before his pinky presses against my ass. I tense, but he goes slow there, only intruding to his first knuckle.
It’s still almost too much. All I can think about is how much bigger his cock is. It scares me and excites me, and oh fuck, I’m coming.
My back bows, and I reach for him without thinking. He grabs my wrists with one hand and pins them to my stomach, all without stopping what he’s doing to my pussy. It only makes it hotter.
I come again. Or maybe it’s an extension of the first one. I’m not sure. All I know is that I need more. “Wolf, please. Fuck me.”
“Already pressing me,” he says against my clit. “Impatient.”
Yes. Always. “Let me ride your cock. Please.”
He sucks hard on my clit, but then he eases back. “Better ride it good. Can’t have you disappointing me.” He loops an arm around my waist, and for one disorientating moment, I’m spinning. Then I come down straddling his waist.
I was right. He’s naked.
I start to press forward, intending to feel as much of him against as much of me as possible, but he again catches my arms. This time, he guides them behind my back. “Clasp your forearms.”
The new position leaves me helpless once again. Especially when he grabs my hips and guides me to the broad head of his cock. “Now, baby. Make me proud.”
Even with the recent orgasm, I have to fight my way down his cock. It reminds me of . . . But no, I’m not thinking of Luke right now. He might have had a monster cock, but that just means I know how to take one.
One step at a time.
One sliding inch after another.
I work myself down Wolf’s length in slow strokes. With my arms behind my back, he’s got to have an excellent view. I wish I had it too. I need it.
It seems to take a long time, but eventually I sink the last inch and seal us together. Wolf mutters something in a language that sounds like Russian, but I’m too far gone to question it.
I grind mindlessly on him. It’s not enough. “I need my arms.”
“Fine.”
I release my forearms and grip his shoulders. It’s tempting to lean forward again, to rub myself on his chest, but it’s clear he won’t allow it. I’ll figure out why later. Right now, I’m too busy fucking him.
“My perfect little slut.” He tightens his grip on my hips, lifts me, and slams me back down onto him. “Always so eager to ride any willing cock that will have you.”
I gasp, but his coarse words only make the pleasure coil tighter inside me. “Yes.”
“Watched you fuck that enforcer as if he had any right to this pussy. Watched him put his hands all over you while he split you wide open where anyone could see, in that short little dress.”
I can still see the picture he sent. The damning evidence of me on someone else’s cock. “Yes,” I moan.
“Then you shared my pussy with that bitch, letting her mark you up and take a picture with her hands all over you. Taunting me.”
“Yes!” I ride him harder, faster. “It felt so good. I knew it’d make you so mad.”
“You keep passing that cunt out like free candy. It’s like you want me to punish you. To fuck you hard and fast and reclaim what’s mine.” His teeth find my nipple, and it’s enough to have me dancing right up to the edge.
I don’t make a conscious decision to move. To disobey. It’s as if my hands have a mind of their own. One moment, I’m quivering and shaking, on the brink of coming, and the next, I rip off my blindfold and look down at Wolf.
I freeze.
He’s not wearing a mask right now. He’s just as naked as I am, his face all harsh lines.
His . . . familiar face.
Because I know this face. I’ve seen it wearing a thousand different emotions, seen it angry and soft and filled with the kind of lust that makes my clit throb.
Luke.
But no. That’s impossible. It can’t be. I know Luke. He’s a nice guy. Respectful. Almost boring these days, though he wasn’t when we started dating.
I’ve never seen this expression on his face, though. He looks cruel, his blue eyes so cold that I shiver on his cock. It’s as if another person is wearing his skin. I don’t know this man. My Luke would not stalk me. My Luke would not murder someone and then finger fuck me over their dead body.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
If he says something harsh and self-assured like Wolf would, I may do the mental gymnastics to keep fucking him. Instead he says, “I can explain.” And he doesn’t sound like Luke right now. But he doesn’t sound like Wolf either.
He has a Russian accent.
I shove off him. I don’t have a plan, but I’m nearly to the door when he catches up with me. He wraps me in his big body, and I really am a fool because part of me wants to melt for him.
“Stop, Ruby.”
“Let me go. What did you do with Wolf?” It’s the only explanation. Luke and Wolf can’t be the same person. Luke must have figured out what was going on and then stepped into Wolf’s clothing.
“I’m Wolf.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
He braces one arm on the door in front of me. “Look.”
I see what he means immediately. The bite mark on his forearm, the perfect impression of my teeth from the last time. When he fucked me on the couch and told me to be quiet or he’d kill Luke. Except he’s Luke. “What the fuck?”
His hard cock presses against my ass. “What’s your safe word, baby?” His accent gives the words a strange flavor, as if he’s not Wolf or Luke. But someone who may be more dangerous than both.
“What?” My head is spinning. I can’t think. I can’t process what the hell is going on.
“Your safe word.” He tightens his hold on my waist and lifts me just a little, just enough for his cock to find my entrance. “Because as far as I’m concerned, nothing has changed between us. You were happy enough that I paid a million dollars for this cunt five minutes ago. I mean to take what I’m owed.”
Again, my foolish body takes over. I arch back against him, my safe word trapped on the inside of my teeth. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” He wedges his cock into me, one slow inch at a time. It doesn’t feel like care, though. It feels like humiliation, especially when my pussy blooms around him in response. “Hands on the door.”
“Fuck you.” But I obey. I press my hands flat to the door as he starts to fuck me again. This time, it’s not like when I was riding him. It’s closer to what happened on the couch.
A claim of ownership.
“When you come, I want you to say my name,” he murmurs in my ear. “My real name.”
“I . . . get that . . . now? Lucky me.” Gods, his cock feels good inside me. I don’t understand how I didn’t recognize him as Luke, who I’ve fucked more times than I can count. But then, Luke never fucked me like this. He was selfless to an outstanding degree, and if sometimes we got a little rough, it was always with me on top and driving things. It never felt dirty or borderline violent.
“Casimir.”
Just like that, everything clicks. The name I barely recognized. The Russian accent. Casimir Romanov. The vicious fixer for the Russian branch of the Romanov family.