The Professional: Part 2 (The Game Maker 1.20)

Chapter 18

"Hold on!" I tripped back from Sevastyan as he advanced on me through the billowing steam. He seemed bent on getting me out of my wet clothes.

Hanging out in a sensual sauna, naked, with an off-limits enforcer who happened to make my mouth water: what could possibly go wrong?

And Sevastyan had been all too prepared to take advantage of the storm. The sauna fire had been lit before we'd even arrived. He'd hinted around about planning my seduction, which made me wonder . . . "What's gotten into you, Siberian? I know the rules--we're not supposed to be trifling with each other."

In a low tone, with words like a promise, he said, "I have no intention of trifling with you."

I frowned. "But that's why you've avoided me, isn't it? Because you don't want to risk getting saddled with me. So what is this?"

"It's simple." He was almost upon me. "You're freezing when I can make you warm."

When I skirted away, he raised his palms, as if to let me know he'd never force anything on me.

I rolled my eyes. Like he ever would have to.

"Then I'll need to make it hotter in here." He returned to the fire. After coaxing more warmth and steam, he sat on a nearby bench and began undressing, his manner casual.

I was rapt as he unbuttoned his shirt with those ringed fingers. I didn't know if it was the vodka in my belly or a growing coil of excitement that was heating me more--just knew my chill had all but disappeared.

When he drew off the wet fabric, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled, those tattoos stark across his flexing chest.

I'd researched more about those markings of his. The two stars meant that he was a criminal aristocrat, a man who'd neared the upper echelons of the Bratva. The ones on his fingers signified that he'd been a thief and an assassin. But I also saw scars that I hadn't noticed on the plane--one from what must be a bullet wound in his side and another slash down the back of his arm that looked like a knife wound.

More reminders of how much pain his body had taken. Yet these scars didn't detract from his attractiveness; just the opposite.

He raised his chin proudly. The bastard knew how good his body looked.

How masculine.

How sexual.

I found my feet taking me closer to him, my hands itching to touch his damp skin. What woman would be able to resist him?

A better woman than I.

Before I knew it, I'd sat on the bench a couple of feet from him. I felt obligated to say, "I don't want this."

He raised his brows. Oh, really? "Take off your jacket."

With a swallow, I did. My ivory silk blouse was transparent, my stiff nipples and coral-colored areolas visible through my white lace bra.

When he made a low sound of appreciation, I admitted, "I'm scared."

"Of me?"

Never. I shook my head. "I'm scared of what this means. From what I understand, if we keep fooling around, you're going to get permanently stuck with me. Like you might as well slip a ring on my finger. Especially if we have sex."

"You let me worry about that."

Maybe the threat of mutual saddling had been exaggerated? Like when parents tell kids: "Go outside with wet hair, and you'll catch a cold."

Fool around with an enforcer, and you'll catch forever.

Sevastyan would never risk an everlasting future with me, right? And if I remained a virgin through this encounter, surely I'd be exempt from any mafiya-logic rules.

But maybe my brain was latching on to any excuse to keep this interlude going. Mist suffused the air, making everything feel dreamlike. And wasn't it easier to be reckless in dreams?

"What do you want from me, Sevastyan?"

He reached down to seize my ankles and pulled them over his lap, making me spin on my ass to face him. "Do you trust me, milaya moya?" My sweet.

Off went one of my boots and the accompanying stocking. "For some reason, I do." Off went the other.

Then he reached forward to unbutton my blouse with those tattooed fingers. I was still considering a retreat--until I caught his masculine scent.

Game over. I'd been drugged.

When he guided me to, I shrugged out of my clinging blouse, leaving my bra--which highlighted my breasts more than it concealed them.

His gaze dipped, and he rubbed his palm over his mouth. "You control this situation, Natalya," he said, his voice lulling me until I was staring at his lips. "Tell me what you want."

Before I could think better of it, I'd gone and told him the truth: "More."

Cupping my face with both of his hands, he brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones. "Then I will pleasure you as I need to, as you need me to."

I didn't know what that meant, just knew it sounded necessary and critical. Like breath. "But I can't sleep with you."

He dropped his hands, narrowing his eyes with a blatant flare of anger. "All you can think about is preserving your way out? Then rest assured, I won't fuck you until you beg me. But if you're not strong enough to resist me, then that's on you," he said, repeating what I'd told him on the plane.

No begging equaled no sex? I could resist begging. Then I would be in control. "If not sex, then what do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to give you commands, and I want you to follow them to the letter." A gleam of pure lust accompanied his roughened words.

How much he needed this! The idea of my fulfilling his "particular interests" wiped my mind of resistance. Made my body pliant, my will weak.

He wanted to command me; I wanted it as well.

He pulled me closer to sit across his lap, until our faces were inches apart, our breaths mingling. He nipped my bottom lip, only to soothe it with his tongue. When he slanted his mouth over mine, I sighed with defeat and welcomed his sensual kiss.

As our tongues began to twine, I was dimly aware that my pants had seemed to melt away. The shock of my bare breasts against his blazing hot skin roused me. While he still wore pants, I had only my panties left.

He broke from the kiss, lifting me off his lap. "Here, lie back."

My first order. The bench was about two feet wide, with polished slats. I could lie on it comfortably, but I suspected comfort was not Sevastyan's first concern. With a nervous swallow, I reclined for him.

He reached forward to tug my underwear off. Then he stared.

His golden eyes were lit with an animalistic intensity so strong it made my heart race.

I followed his gaze as he raked it over my naked body, wondering what he was seeing to affect him so strongly. My normally pale skin was flushed with excitement and dotted with mist, until it looked like it glittered. My restless hips couldn't seem to stop moving.

He wants me darkly, deeply, my mind kept repeating. What had unnerved me before now turned me on like crazy.

"Close your eyes, Natalie. Do not open them. And remain where you are."

"

Sevastyan . . ."

"I give commands. You obey them. Sdavaisya." Surrender.

Trepidation surged--but it couldn't compete with my eagerness. Once I closed my eyes, he left the room. I heard him in the pre-bath. Had he gone for more vodka?

As I wondered what he was up to, I perceived a change coming over me. Any lingering uneasiness disappeared under an onslaught of sensations. I could feel those droplets of mist collecting all over my skin, to stream down my sides and pool in my navel. My nipples puckered tighter with each whisper of steam. The scent of the fire filled my nose.

The heavy fall of my hair spilled over the end of the bench. I bit my lip when I felt the rumble of thunder in the wood beneath me, a vibration from my heels to my head.

Every one of my senses was overwhelmed.

I grew even wetter, my lips swelling between my legs. I wanted to spread my thighs, to open myself to him. He'd said I was beautiful there, had licked every crevice and fold with a ravening hunger.

I needed him back! What was he doing? Curiosity plagued me--

Rip.

I tensed. That sounded like cloth being torn.

Rip . . . Rip . . . Rip . . .

What--the--hell? I thought I heard him running water as well.

When the sound of his footfalls approached, it was everything I could do not to peek.

"Did you do as I told you?"

"Yes." My voice quavered on the word.

"Good girl." He brushed his knuckles over my jawline. Of all the parts of me offered up to him, he caressed my face.

"Um, what were you doing?" I could imagine his eyes following the movements of his fingers.

"Preparing. I want your arms over your head."

Hesitantly, I stretched them back; he seized my wrists together.

I trembled when he tied cloth around them.

Chapter 19

"Sevastyan, I don't know." He'd described me being helpless. He'd told me he'd want to do filthy things to me.

Was I about to step off that trestle yet again? To plunge into this encounter?

"You can stop me at any time, Natalie."

You can't stop a free fall, you can't stop--

"But if you obey me, I promise I'll make you come harder than you ever have."

Though I didn't see how that could be possible, so far Sevastyan had kept all his promises. Which meant he intended to make me orgasm harder than on the plane, and in the closet?

I now had every incentive in the world to obey him.

While I shook with anticipation, he tied my wrists tightly together, then affixed them to one leg of the bench.

I sensed him moving again. When he reached across me, the plump head of his cock glided over my skin, tripping my stomach muscles. He was undressed? How badly I wanted to see him completely naked! Yet I squeezed my eyes shut, resisting the urge to open them.

He cupped me behind my knees, bending my legs until my feet were flat on the bench. "Let your knees fall wide."

When I did, I could feel mist dancing over my swollen pussy.

He sucked in a breath, and I knew he was staring at me there. I was tempted to close my legs, but he rasped, "Ya sptryu na to shto prenodlezhit mne." I'm looking at what's mine.

At this moment, all of me was his.

Was he going to tie up my legs? I now wanted him to. And then I wanted him to do filthy things to me.

I expected the feel of cloth around my ankles--instead, he knotted a strip around one knee. I couldn't tell what he was doing. Stretching the strip back past the head of the bench?

Once he'd fastened my other knee, I realized that both of my legs were suspended wide and spread, tied with one long band of cloth. If I pulled on my right knee, my left one would be forced higher and impossibly wider. Like a balance scale.

How to tell him to stop? That this was too much?

"Look at you. Red curls and plump pink lips--against those white thighs. Beautiful." My pussy quivered under his gaze, and he inhaled sharply. "Do you know how much I've craved to see this? My lovely Natalya bound for my use." His voice dropped an octave lower. "The things I will do to you."

My resistance perished with a whimper.

"Open your eyes."

"Okay." They went wide at the sight of him totally unclothed.

The fire bathed his body with light, flickering over the rises and falls of muscle. Droplets meandered down his torso, trailing over sinews. My mouth went slack, my lips needing to graze every inch of his glistening skin.

His muscular shoulders and pecs tapered down to unyielding stomach ridges. Between his narrow hips, his cock jutted hungrily. I gasped to see the taut head and slit covered with beads of pre-cum, the distended length pulsing.

The sight of it wrought an answering throb within me. "Oh, God, oh, God." I'd never wanted anything more than I wanted that cock buried to the hilt inside me. But I couldn't have it.

I desperately needed to squeeze my thighs together or rub my clit to ease this ache. When I pulled against my bonds, I realized why he'd tied my legs like this. He wanted me to be able to move slightly so he could watch me struggle against my bindings, which clearly aroused him even more. His lips parted, his eyes seeming to glow with fervor.

Once I could tear my gaze from his, I noted the other tattoos on his body. On each of his knees was a mighty star to match the ones on his chest. I knew what those symbolized: he would kneel before no man.

Staring at Sevastyan's body was like staring at the sun.

"I want you to see the need I'll be battling." He fisted his cock, swiping his thumb over the head, glossing it with moisture. "Want you to see how badly I crave you."

With his other hand, he held up his last strip of cloth. Even my lust-stupid brain knew what he wanted to do with it. Sure enough, he cupped the back of my head, lifting it so he could tie the cloth over my eyes. "And then, I want you to see nothing."

"Wait!" To be fettered like this and sightless?

He finished tying the knot. "The better for you to feel. Trust me to take care of you. Tell me that you will."

I hesitated, then said, "I will."

"Good. Now, arch your back and keep it so."

Once I did, I heard a slosh of water. Then the ladle hitting the edge of the bucket?

Water streamed onto my chest. It was just shy of too-hot as my breasts channeled it straight down to my pussy.

I could feel the stream rushing over my clit. Could feel that sultry trickle directly over my opening. An intimate, liquid caress. I moaned, holding my arched position with difficulty.

Another stream danced over my throat. Like a collar.

I started to perspire. So hot--

"Ahh!" Freezing water licked across my breasts. He'd gone from steaming to ice cold. I struggled to keep my back bowed as he doused another cold line from one of my nipples to the other.

He poured more down my spread inner thighs. Goose bumps. Perspiration. Shivers. Panting. My body didn't know how to react.

Then cold directly between my legs.

"Sevastyan!" I futilely wriggled.

"Back flat. Open your mouth."

I was shuddering as I blindly obeyed. Cold water hit my tongue. I swallowed quickly, hadn't realized how thirsty I was.

"More?"

I'd never had such delicious water. "Uh-huh."

The stream returned, along with the tip of his finger, tracing my lips. I sucked the finger, drinking from it before he pulled it away.

Then nothing but sounds. The fire crackling. My panting breaths, his harsh ones. Moments passed. . . .

Against my lips, I felt the head of his cock. He was rimming my mouth as water trickled down his length. The visual of Sevastyan, funneling water along his shaft to my waiting mouth . . . Oh, God, oh, God.

I stretched my head up to suckle him, but he kept that luscious crown from my tongue. I strained to free my wrists, needing to drink him dry . . . yet he tormented me, daubing the head to my lips, then drawing it away.

&nbs

p; Another grazing contact, more cool water. The world began to fade away until only Sevastyan existed.

Then absence. No contact. I was about to cry out when his finger returned. I sucked it hard, swirling my tongue, letting him know what I'd do with his cock. He must've gotten the message; a growl broke from his chest.

When he withdrew his finger, I gasped, "Why are you teasing me like this?"

"My greedy girl wants more?"

"You know I do!"

Pressure against my lips. His own?

Sevastyan was kissing me with light laps of his tongue against my seeking one. I moaned into his mouth, but he kept the pace slow, languid, laying his hand over the side of my face. He broke from the kiss to brush feather-light grazes of his lips over my cheek, my chin, along my jawline, then back to my waiting mouth, to take my tongue with his.

The most tender, romantic kiss I'd ever received.

As if he cherished me.

He'd tied me up to use my body, then given me a lover's kiss.

Maddening man! As his lips and tongue leisurely claimed my own, I thrashed against my bonds, desperate to grasp his head, to bury my fingers in his hair so I could hold his mouth to mine.

I feared I'd lose my mind before the afternoon was through. And quite possibly my virginity. Did I trust what he'd said, about not fucking me until I begged? Yes. But did I trust my promise to myself not to beg?

Perhaps I wasn't strong enough to resist him.

He pulled away, brushing my hair from my forehead, adjusting my blindfold just so. "Lovely little Natalya."

I sputtered, "How do you have so much control?"

"I made you a promise that you'd come harder than you ever have before. I keep my promises to you. Now, open your mouth again."

I eagerly did, licking my lips for whatever he wanted to put between them. . . .

His cock. Without the water. Allowing me to better taste him. I eagerly lapped at the plump head, tonguing the moistened slit in the middle.

When he took it away, I thrashed anew. "Nooo!"

With one hand, he caged my throat; with his other, he thumbed a nipple. "Still."

I somehow calmed myself. Then another sensation against my mouth. Tightly rippled flesh. When I realized what he'd given me this time, I shot up, moaning against his testicles, my tongue swathing the ridges. In my frenzy, I sucked one wholly between my lips, trying for the other.

"Uhn!" He groaned long and low. "Greedy girl," he repeated.

Again he drew away, depriving me. Of his skin, his flesh, his sex, his mouth. He'd deprived me of this world he'd created--where he was everything. What would he do next? How would he touch me?