Her pulse leaps again as she sways toward me. She’s scared, but she’s doing this anyway, because she thinks she has to.
“I’m not very experienced,” she whispers softly, and I can hear a faint tremble in her voice. “But you could teach me. I could learn what you like, how to please you. Iwantto please you, Damian. I do—you’ve done so much for me, for us…”
Christ. I thought I’d reached the limits of how fucking hard a woman could make me, but I swear every word out of her mouth sends fresh blood surging to my cock.Not very experienced.That should be even more of a reminder of why I shouldn’t want this. I have no business touching a woman this innocent, but the thought ofteachingSienna what I like, of training her to please me just the way I want, has my cock throbbing until I’m afraid I’m going to come in my fucking pants without ever touching myself. Her wide eyes looking up at me, those words spilling from those full lips, have a jolt of pure lust straight to my cock even as my conscience screams at me to put a stop to this.
She's so close now that I can feel the heat radiating from her body, can see the way her chest rises and falls with her rapid breathing. Her lips are parted slightly, and I can imagine how they'd feel wrapped around my cock, how she'd look on her knees in front of me…
She leans in, swaying until her body almost brushes mine, andmy other hand moves before I can stop myself. It grabs her by the back of the neck, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to keep her in place as I hold her by her wrist and nape, like a kitten that I’m trying to keep from scratching me.
Dikaya koshka. My little wildcat.
Except she’s not mine. Not really. And she should never be.
She sucks in a breath, her eyes going wide with fear, and it takes every last shred of self-control that I have not to use my grip on her neck to push her down to her knees here on the marble floor and get my cock out to feed it between her pretty lips. Instead, I suck in a ragged breath, meeting her eyes squarely.
"Stop," I say firmly, my voice rougher than I intend. "That's not how this marriage is going to be."
I see confusion and fear flicker across her face, mingled with a faint flash, when I grab the back of her neck, of what looks like heat in her eyes. She might not have even realized it, but touching her like that did something to her.
Just another reason for me to keep from touching her at all. I can’t be responsible for corrupting this girl. For twisting her desires into something else because of what I want.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps, her voice suddenly small. “I thought?—”
“You thought wrong.” I release her quickly, stepping back and putting distance between us before I can do anything that I’ll regret later… or not regret as much as I should. "You don't owe me anything, Sienna."
She blinks at me, briefly frozen into silence. “I was just trying to?—”
“What? Fuck me out of a sense of obligation? That’s not what I’m looking for, Sienna.” My words come out harsh and grating, and I see her flinch back, something like hurt flickering in her eyes. It doesn’t make sense to me. Why would she be fuckinghurtthat I don’t want to force her into my bed because she thinks she has to be there?
“I just thought you might want?—”
“That doesn’t matter.” I rake a hand through my hair, feeling the sudden, desperate urge to get away from this, from her, from the waymy body is still screaming at me to take what she’s offering and silence this fierce lust pulsing through me. “I told you already, Sienna. I married you so that I could bring you here under Konstantin’s protection. That’s all.”
The way she looks at me tells me that she doesn’t believe me. That she doesn’t understand any of this, or why I’m forcing myself to keep my hands off of her. And why would she? She was a stripper before this. I rescued her from a human trafficking ring. Her knowledge of men isn’t anything good, and it’s based on sex traded for something else—for money, for protection, for comfort. She’s a single mother, too—whoever she was with that gave her Adam, that man couldn’t have been anything worth speaking about, either.
If I touch her, if I let her touch me, I’m taking advantage of her. Plain and simple. And in all my life, in all the violent, bloody, cruel things I’ve done, that’s the one line I’ve never crossed.
I take another step back. “Let’s not have this conversation again, Sienna. You’re welcome for today.”
I can’t get upstairs fast enough. I need to get away from her, from the scent of vanilla and flowers, from her wide eyes and full mouth, from that flicker of genuine heat that I saw in her eyes when I wrapped my fingers around the back of her neck. I can tell that she doesn’t understand why I don’t want her, but if she were more experienced, she would see that Ido. That I want her so badly that it’s driving me insane, but that I refuse to take advantage of her like that. I refuse to be the kind of man who would cross that line.
I can feel her watching me as I turn and stride away, toward the stairs, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to look back.
All I can think about is getting somewhere private to ease the ache coursing through my body. My cock is painfully hard, straining against my zipper, and I can hear the pounding of my pulse in my ears, my entire being narrowed in on the primal, desperate need to come. I can’t think about anything else, only the look on Sienna’s face, the brush of her fingers against my chest, the way she looked at me as if she were willing to do absolutelyanythingto earn and keep my protection.
That shouldn’t turn me on, butfuck, it does.What does that make me?I think dimly, in the back of my head, as I feel my cock pulse, pre-cum rolling down the shaft as I shove open the door to my bedroom and slam it behind me, hand already fumbling with my belt. She’s vulnerable, dependent on me, and she thinks she has to offer her body to keep herself and her son safe. Taking advantage of that would make me no better than the animals who tried to traffic her in the first place.
I drag my zipper down, freeing my aching length. My hand is wrapped around it in an instant, stroking, sliding up to squeeze the slick head as I groan in pleasure at the sensation of flesh against flesh… but it’s not enough.
I need more. Fighting and failing to not picture Sienna while I stroke my cock isn’t enough. But the thought of watching porn of another woman is so intensely dissatisfying that I feel my desire recede, just a little, for a brief moment.
Without fully thinking about what I’m doing, I release myself long enough to grab my laptop from where it’s sitting at the foot of my bed. I flip it open, typing with one hand as I reach down to run the other down my throbbing length. I look up the club where Sienna used to work, expecting to see a picture of her somewhere, something in lingerie.
I’m crossing a line. I know I am. But I’m desperate for something more. Something to look at while I come for her, while I get myself off so that I can keep my hands off of a woman that I should never, never touch. A picture isn’t all that bad. It’s not much worse than the images that go through my head every time I reach for my cock now.
There’s no picture of her on the site that I can see immediately. But I see something else—a link at the top of the page that saysEXCLUSIVE CONTENT.
My heart thuds behind my ribs. Before I can stop myself, I click on it. And there, on the next page alongside ten other girls, is a thumbnail of Sienna next to a link that saysVideos.
