Home > The Professional (The Game Maker #1)(27)

The Professional (The Game Maker #1)(27)
Author: Kresley Cole

With a lazy grin, I dipped my forefinger into a honey pot, then sucked it between my lips, my smug expression saying, Whatcha gonna do, Siberian?

His own lips parted. Recalling me sucking him the night before?

Higher, higher . . .

Contact.

God, he was burning hot, hard as iron. He tilted his head sharply, his nostrils flaring. And for a long moment, his chest didn’t move at all.

With my lids gone heavy, I rubbed the ball of my foot along his length, delighted when his c**k pulsed in reaction. I grew wet in response, dampening the black silk thong I’d worn for him. My ni**les budded in the demi cups of my bra.

When I stroked him from base to head, he cast me another look of warning—even as his gaze gleamed with lust. Now it was a battle of wills, a game of chicken. Stroke. He was refusing to react; I refused to quit. Another stroke. Who would blink first?

Wondering if I could get him off like this, I rubbed him with more pressure. The muscles in his shoulders and arms began to swell. The fighter must be clenching his fists beneath the table.

His eyes promised a hot and thorough punishment.

Mine must’ve been pleading for it.

If I retired to my room, would he follow? Apparently, I would be blinking first. I lowered my foot and slipped my shoe back on. As the sports car debate wound down, I feigned a yawn and rose. “I’m tired from the trip as well.” Avoiding Sevastyan’s face, I said, “Good night, everyone. It was great to meet you all.”

“But there are more bottles to finish,” Filip said with an irrepressible wink. Oh, dear, what if he tried to follow me?

To dissuade him, I said, “Stay and have fun—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He brightened. “Tomorrow afternoon, then. It’s a date.”

Date? That wasn’t what I’d meant, and I didn’t want to get his hopes up. But all eyes were on us, so I decided to let it go for now.

With a last wave at everyone, I made my way out of the dining room. I took my time strolling back to my suite, pausing to regard the collection of paintings in the upstairs hall, wishing Sevastyan would come to me.

And then he did. Striding down the hallway, looking every inch a mafiya enforcer. Expression murderous.

Which for him could be literal.

Chapter 15

As Sevastyan prowled closer, I backed up a step, then another.

He grabbed my upper arm, dragging me down the hall. In a deceptively soft voice, he asked, “Did you enjoy playing with me?” He opened a side door, shoved me inside, then closed it behind us. I smelled fresh laundry and brass polish.

A maid’s closet?

And it was in a tsar’s residence? I could only imagine how many secret trysts had been carried out over the years within these four walls.

He flipped on a muted light, backing me farther inside. “You left me hard and aching, then planned a f**king assignation with Filip in front of me?” When my ass met a linen shelf, he clamped a hand on either side of my hips to cage me in, filling my head with his seductive scent. “Are we so interchangeable? Filip and I?”

“I don’t like him that way.”

“Do you not?” Sevastyan’s voice was laced with rage. “You looked like you did at the beginning of dinner. When he was about to kiss you.”

“What does it matter to you? You blew me off, remember?”

“It matters when you decide to stroke my c**k under the table till I’m nearly strangling with need. It matters when you were drinking me down less than twenty-four hours ago.” Without warning, he shoved my dress up over my hips.

I sucked in a breath.

He stared at my thong, then the black thigh-highs, fingering the lacy tops. “Who did you wear these for?”

I raised my chin. “You.”

“So you planned for us to be together? After I’d said no? Tonight you’ve enjoyed playing with fire. But will you accept the burn you’ve earned?”

“Pardon—”

The word was cut off with a gasp when he lifted me up on the shelf. “I’m going to show you what I felt.” He wedged himself between my thighs.

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer, just unzipped his slacks to drag the heavy length of his c**k out. The crown was damp with arousal. My body went electric when his shaft strained toward my pu**y, as if hunting it on its own.

I’d loved on his dick with my mouth and taken his se**n on my tongue, wanted to again. “Let me kiss you like last night.” I tried to shimmy off the shelf, but he pinned me there, pressing that shaft directly against the silky front of my panties. Right against my swollen clitoris. I moaned when I perceived the heat of him, even through the damp material.

“Feel that,” he rasped. “Teasing me got you wet? You like goading me until I lose control?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

He rubbed my upper thighs with his callused palms, higher and higher. With his thumbs, he reached under my panties and pulled my lips past the sides of the crotch. “This is what I felt.” He thrust, as much as clothes-fucking me, with only silk between his c**k and my clit.

I moaned low, my head falling back.

“No, you don’t,” he snapped, drawing my gaze. “You’re going to look at me like you did when you teased me, Natalya. Like you would die if I didn’t f**k you at that moment.” He gave a second thrust, making my body vibrate. “Your eyes were begging me to bend you over that table and plunge into your pu**y.” Another thrust. “Is that what you meant to tell me?”

“Yes!” I was going to come like this, was already on the verge. “I want it now.”

“Christ, woman.” He rocked his hips again, gliding his shaft over me. More pr**cum clung to the head; he swiped a streak of it against the silk, then positioned himself once more.

The friction and heat were making me mindless. “Please don’t stop that!”

“I should stop, leaving you as you did me.” He leaned forward to rumble words at my ear, “Feeling like I’d explode, on the verge of coming in my pants. So close I wanted to; damn the consequences, I wanted you to bring my c**k off in a room full of people.”

When I shivered, his thumbs delved deeper. “Open your dress.”

I untied the sash, then drew the sides apart, baring my bra.

“Very nice,” he said with another thrust. “Now, take that off.”

I snatched it up, wanting him to see my heavy br**sts.

When they bobbed with his next thrust, he grunted the order: “Play.”

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