Trapped with the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Petrov Bratva), Nicole Fox [read novels website .TXT] 📗

I open the minibar and grab a bottle of water. “That you were bluffing. I’ll stay in the room and watch premium cable, thank you very much. If you want me to go anywhere with you, it will require force.”

Mid-drink, I turn around and suddenly, Yuri is there. I’m so startled, I drop the bottle, but before I can pick it up or even breathe, he has me pressed against the wall.

His hands carve down my sides like he’s trying to scrape my skin from my bones, and his hips circle into mine, sparking warmth in places I don’t want to feel it.

“What are you doing?” My voice is almost gone, barely a whisper.

Yuri draws his palm down my stomach and lower, driving the heel of his hand against me and making me squirm. I hate that it feels good. Then he leans forward until his lips are a featherlight touch against my neck. I can feel his breath, warm and moist on my skin, and I wonder what his tongue would feel like on my body. He tickles his fingers down my arm until his fingers wrap around my wrist. And in one smooth movement, my hand is above my head and pinned to the wall.

I gasp in surprise and Yuri’s other hand is on my jaw. He turns my face to his until we’re looking in each other’s eyes. His words are little more than an animal growl. “I don’t bluff.”

His lips are punishing against mine, an angry slant, and I use my free hand to push on his chest. It feels like pushing against a steel beam. He doesn’t budge. Doesn’t even react. I pound my fist on his chest like he’s the Tinman, and I’m checking for a heart. Still nothing. He turns his head to the side and parts his lips, and I surprise myself by opening my own mouth. When his tongue slides over my lower lip, part of me wants to bite it, but another part of me is curious.

Yuri is intense. Brooding. He’s all anger and sharp words and rough hands. But this is different. Unexpected. And it’s hard to fight the desire rising up inside of me.

His hand wraps around me and presses into the lower part of my back, drawing my hips into him. I can feel his length against my stomach, and whether he’s doing this to prove a point or because he has a secret crush on me, there’s no denying his body wants this. Just like there’s no denying my body wants this. I’m hot and trembling and needy all over as his kisses move from my lips to my jaw and lower until he’s nibbling at my collarbone and pressing kisses to the soft flesh of my breast. When he forces the top of my dress aside and flicks his tongue across my nipple, I give myself over entirely.

My hand finds its way to the nape of his neck, tangling in the wavy hair there, and I hold him to my breast, circling my hips into him as he teases me, nibbling and licking and sucking. I throw my head back and moan, feeling a familiar warmth building in my stomach.

It’s never happened this fast. Not without a great deal of foreplay. I haven’t been with a lot of men, but I’ve been with enough to know that my body needs at least ten minutes of vigorous foreplay to even get close to an orgasm, but two minutes in with Yuri and I’m panting and trying to control myself.

“You’re already ready,” he groans as my hips buck against him. “I recognize the heavy breathing from earlier.”

Earlier. When his fingers were inside of me. I clench at the memory, both with embarrassment and need. “Only because you failed to finish the job the first time.”

It’s supposed to sound like an insult, but it comes out more like a plea. Yuri responds by sliding his hand down my backside and up under my dress. I know what he’s doing, but I still gasp when his hand brushes across the front of my panties. When he dips inside, I let my eyes fall closed.

“You’re just as wet as last time,” he whispers as he slides his fingers into me.

It feels like a drink of cold water after a day spent in the sun. My entire body relaxes until he’s the only thing holding me up, pinning me to the wall. He thrusts in and out of me slowly, and even with my eyes closed, I can tell he’s staring at me. Yuri likes being in control. He likes watching what he can do to me.

When I open my eyes and see his pupils blown wide, his mouth hanging open in concentration, I know I’m right. I lean forward and catch his lower lip between my teeth, biting it. “You sure like using your fingers. Is it because there’s something wrong with your ...” My eyes glance down.

Yuri raises an eyebrow and finally lets go of the hand that has been pinned above my head so he can unzip his jeans, his mouth twisted into a dangerous smile all the while. He practically springs out of the zipper, and my eyes widen. I try to collect myself before he can notice, but he chuckles.

“Wondering what you got yourself into?” he asks, gathering my dress in his hand and pinning the extra fabric to my waist until I’m exposed to him from the waist down.

I can feel my cheeks warming, but I shake my head. “I’m wondering how long you’ll be able to last.”

As if it was a formal challenge, Yuri grips my hip with one hand, positions himself at my opening, and thrusts in with one smooth movement.

As soon as he’s inside of me, my walls come down. I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve been stripped bare. I claw at his back as he lifts me off my feet with the force