“Are you going to hold me hostage?”
“No,”
“Then when we land, I can catch a flight to my brother’s island?”
“Nyet.”
“So you’re holding me hostage.”
“Nyet, Lyubov moya. Holding you hostage means that I will give you up once I get something in return, but there’s nothing I would want to exchange for you.”
“You know kidnapping is illegal.” He shrugs.
“So is underage drinking, but you don’t mind breaking those rules.”
“This is totally not the same,” I argue.
Chapter 3
Mikhail
She is so beautiful when she is heated. I look into her eyes and can see she’s only scared of letting me in. The way her thighs clenched when I told her I’d spank her. I ache to run my hand over her round ass. I wonder if she wanted to feel that right now. My cock swells in my suit. I should have rubbed myself before getting on the plane. I feel too much need to bury every inch into her tiny little pussy. She crosses her legs as if she’s going to stop the desire I know is there. I bet her panties are so soaked that they are leaving a spot on those itty-bitty shorts.
I would be pissed that she is wearing them, but my brother knows better to look at my woman. My eyes train to that spot between her legs, willing them to part.
“Have you gotten your fill?”
“I’ll never have enough of you Marisol.”
“Seriously are you that hard-up on women that you have to kidnap them?” I lean forward, crowding her space so that our legs are brushing against each other.
“I have never been hard up for a woman until the day your pretty face passed by my desk. The day you became mine.”
“You’re nuts,” she remarks.
“Perhaps, or maybe I’m a man who knows that the way your pulse has picked up, and the way your eyes keep moving to my mouth that you want to know how it would feel on your lips.”
“No, I don’t…” she weakly murmurs.
“Say it like you mean it, beauty.”
She parts her lips as if she’s going to say something but doesn’t; instead, she closes them. I give my future wife a smile, then sit back in my chair. I know that if I put my lips on hers, it will not stop there, but the look she gives me could kill a man.
“What? When I kiss you, there will be no one to interrupt us. There will be only you and me as I claim your body for my own. Relax, moya krasota.”
“I didn’t want you to kiss me,” she denies. I roll my eyes and shake my head. She can try to fight it, but her body is doing her no favors.
“Are you sure, Marisol?”
“Yes,” she stutters as I lean in again. This time I take her drink and bring it to my lips just right where her lip gloss print is. I sip it only because I want to savor it.
“That was mine.”
“I will get you more, moya krasota. But if I cannot have your lips where I want them, I must settle for the next best thing.”
“What does that mean, moya krasota?” she asks meekly, her eyes staring at the glass in my hand.
“My beauty.” She blushes, sliding her fingers into her hair and tucking strands behind her ear.
With a deep breath, she gathers her confidence and tosses me a sneering glare, then she questions me, “Do you always kidnap women?”
“I thought I made myself clear. I do not kidnap women. I don’t care that much. I haven’t been with a woman since before you even hit puberty.” She arches her brow as if she doesn’t believe me. I lean in again, a little closer this time. “And I haven’t wanted a woman the way I want you. The way I crave tasting your body. I want to lick you until you scream my name, then fuck you until you can’t handle another orgasm.” A whimper escapes her lips. I inch closer, so my face is almost touching hers. “I’ll bet my island that your pussy is so soaked that you’ll have a sweet wet spot on your shorts. Part your thighs.” She shakes her head slightly. “I promise to be gentle, Marisol. I only want to worship you.” She blushes and parts them. I see all I need. Just as I expected, her desire is on display. I bend down and press my face between her thighs. She gasps as I breathe in her scent, then I place a little kiss right there.
I pull back, then brush my lips against her jaw and whisper. “I can’t wait to have you open for me, but I won’t share your moans with anyone else.”
“Was there something in that drink?” she asks, looking at the empty glass.
“No, Marisol. Maybe it’s like I said. You want me, too.” I can see that I’m right, but she’s trying to fight it. All I can do is smile because it’s going better than I could have ever hoped for. “I knew it on the beach.”