Chapter 13

Boris went back to torturing her, driving her insane with his slow licks, pushing her toward an orgasm and then withholding the precious treat while she abused him and his entire bloodline in at least three languages. He chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking her spread thighs, and ignored her tirade.

It occurred to Laney that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The handsome in a fuck-with-me-and-mine-and-die sort of way man would have tons of experience with women; women that were far more willing than Laney to throw themselves at him. Though he was scarred and deadly looking, he would appeal to the sort of women looking for an adrenalin fuelled fuck. He clearly knew his way around a pussy.

Suddenly Laney wanted to practice her considerable assassin skills on those imaginary women. It had been a while since she'd been able to add a mark to her body count. Why not add a few dozen women to the tally? While she was at it she would just finish Boris off too. Maybe a little earlier than the Master wanted, but whatever, the end goal was the same. Then she wouldn't have to deal with these damn emotions!

Yes, this seemed like a good plan.

Laney tested the hand that was holding her gun, but Boris' hold was immovable. It was like being shackled by warm iron. How he managed to check his strength enough not to accidentally break her wrist she did not know. Damn, shooting him in the head was not going to be an option just yet and he was driving her closer and closer to some sort of insanely wonderful reckoning with his tongue!

He had increased the pressure and was roughly gliding his tongue over her clitoris until the stimulation had become almost unbearable. Laney cried out and arched her back, trying to escape the pleasurable, painful sensations spiking throughout her body. He released the hand not holding a weapon and reached between her legs. She reached down to pull his head away but he stopped licking.

"I will not give you what you need if you push me away, my Laney," he growled, his accent so thick now he may as well be speaking in Russian.

Laney gave a small scream of frustration, fisted her hand and dropped it to the table. She wanted- it- so bad! Just once she wanted to know what this feeling was. She'd never masturbated. Never orgasmed. She needed this!

"Please!" she cried out helplessly.

"I will always take care of you, little love." He dropped a wet kiss onto her belly, leaving a mark on her satin dress with her own fluids.

He blew air across her slippery cunt making her jump against the table and, gathering her wetness onto his big finger, he slowly started to penetrate her. Laney was so lost in pleasure she barely noticed until the burning sensation started.

"Ahhh," she gasped, her head coming sharply off the table.

"What the fuck?" Boris growled at her, his gaze clashing with hers and his thick brows lowering. "A fucking virgin?"

"Don- don't stop!" She begged him, arching her hips up and forcing him to penetrate her further. Though she was incredibly tight, her passage was slick from his expert tongue.

"Answer my question and I will give you what you crave," he demanded.

"Ohhh- I'm not a virgin!" she shouted at him.

"Just very tight then." He nodded. "How old are you, Laney?"

"Oh god, I hate you," she moaned covering her eyes with her free hand, smearing her professionally applied makeup. "Twenty-three. Now please, keep going!"

He froze. "Fuck that's young. Too fucking young," he groaned kissing a path down her leg, helplessly drawn back to her sweet pussy.

"You should've thought of that earlier!" she yelled.

"Fuck it, what is thirteen years when I am in love?" His lips latched onto her aching clit once more and began sucking as though he would die if he didn't taste her one last time. He thrust his finger past the resistance of her vaginal channel, reaching into the heart of her, filling her completely. She screamed, arching her back off the table and exploding into a thousand beautiful suns while he licked her through her very first orgasm.

As she collapsed back onto the table, he took a calculated risk, releasing her gun hand and reaching for her waist. He dragged her up the table in one strong arm and took her mouth in a rough, possessive kiss. He didn't give her a chance to deny him as she had been doing for so many months. He swept his tongue into her mouth, forcing her to taste her own come on his lips and tongue, ruining her innocence in one sweep. Laney moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her wrists together, forgetting about the gun she still held. She took his aggressive kiss and shyly returned the pressure of his tongue with her own. He growled his approval, his hand tightening on her waist.

His finger continued to press inside her spasming pussy, pressing against the wet silken wall, showing her how good she could feel. He swept his thumb back and forth across her clitoris until she was rocking her hips in time with his swipes and reaching again for the mindless oblivion only he could show her. Suddenly she was flying again, swept up into another incredible orgasm while held tightly in the confines of the arms of her lover.

As she slowly drifted down from the incredible high of two amazing and previously unexperienced orgasms, reality began to set in. Boris felt the shift in her from lazy contentment to horror. He sighed heavily and removed his hand from her sweet pussy. Before she could recover too quickly he reached behind his neck, took hold of her wrists in a gentle but firm hold, pulled them down and twisted until she dropped her gun on the table.

"Hey!" she snapped.

He chuckled, picked up the weapon and removed the clip. Then he checked to make sure there was no bullet in the chamber. He tucked the clip in his pocket and handed her back the gun. She took it with a shaking hand and frowned at him while attempting to pull her dress down with the other hand. He stared down at her with a frighteningly possessive intensity that made her wish she'd been able to find a way to hide a blade under the dress too.

"Mine now," he rumbled down at her, bringing his arm up and swiping it across his mouth, wiping her juices off on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

"No!" she snapped, glaring at him.

He reached for her, glaring back, daring her to defy him. Laney brought her legs up and scrambled across the table. Boris lunged for her, dropping his full weight onto the table. There was a loud crack.

"Fuck," Boris mumbled right before the table collapsed beneath them, crashing to the carpeted floor with a splintering thump. The legs flew out from underneath while the tabletop remained in one piece, its occupants sprawled awkwardly across it.

They lay in shocked silence for a moment before Boris rolled onto his side and quickly scanned Laney who was flat on her back with her ams at her sides, gun still clutched tightly in one hand, dress around her hips, staring at the ceiling.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, concern lacing his deep voice.

She rolled her head to look at him, her blue mascara-rimmed eyes cloudy. He reached out and touched her head, fearing she may have bumped it too hard. Worry turned to surprise when her lips curved into a smile and she began laughing. Small giggles at first that quickly turned into full belly laughs as she realized what had happened. She brought her legs up, curled her arms around her stomach and rolled onto her side facing him, still laughing.

"I can- can't believe that happened!" she said, between shouts of laughter. "You are such a beast! Look what you've done to this poor table. You really are like Godzilla, smashing things!"

After a moment, his fierce visage split into a wide grin and soon he joined her in her mirth. His booming guffaws shook the table beneath them, causing it to roll on the broken table legs, which made them laugh even harder.

After a few minutes, they calmed and looked at each other. The grin slowly faded from Laney's lips to be replaced by sadness. She saw the love shining in his eyes and shook her head. Reaching out, she touched his lips, running her fingers gently down his beard and then lightly touching his thick, tattooed neck before dropping her hand. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in her scent of lilies and honey, enjoying the feel of her touch, the first one she had voluntarily given him since they had met.

He opened his eyes, dark possession burning into her, branding her heart in a way that she knew couldn't be hers. She reached behind her, the gun clunking against the wooden table, and pushed herself off the broken table. Stumbling on the silver high heels, she stood and attempted to smooth the dress as best she could, shaking out the worst of the wrinkles. Looking down, she realized there was no point. Boris had left a mark on her stomach where he had kissed her and a torn seam all the way up one thigh. Shame and arousal burned in her belly, igniting her once more.

She glanced around and, spotting her panties, reached for them. He was faster. From his crouched position, he swiped them up in his massive tattooed fist. She straightened and moved quickly away from him in case he tried to grab her again.

She watched in fascinated horror as he lifted the delicate black lace to his lips and kissed them. Then he tucked them into his pocket. He pushed himself to his feet, surprisingly graceful for such a large man, and said, "Until next time."

"Never again!" she hissed.

"It is a promise, kotenok," he growled silkily, dropping a kiss on her forehead before leaving her alone in the room.