Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 47

“Yes, Mr. Oryolov?” I ask innocently.

Those amber eyes scorch my face, but I refuse to drop my gaze. If he wants to turn me down, I’ll take it like a grown woman with some semblance of dignity.

His jaw clenches and his fingers tighten over mine. “This is not a good idea.”

My disappointment is cushioned by the knowledge that turning me down is not easy for him. That’s made obvious by the extremely noticeable bulge pushing up through the crotch of his pants. As generous as he’s being to me, I am not about to make this easy on him. “Should I leave then?”

His eyes run over my face and dip down to my cleavage. “You should fucking run,” he hisses.

I nod, ready to get back to my feet, but his hand grabs my wrist just before I rise. I descend back onto my knees and freeze, waiting for him to decide what he wants.

His jaw is clenched tight. So is the rest of him. “You dirty little kiska.”

I can’t help but grin shyly. The bright light streaming through the windows offers me a clear view of the way his pupils are dilating, blown wide with lust.

“Go on then. Show me how grateful you are.”

Biting my lower lip with satisfaction, I unbuckle his pants and ease his cock free. He’s so fucking hard, his tip already smeared with a little pre-cum. The plan is to take it slow, but the moment I taste him, I forget the plan entirely. I suck him into my mouth, swirling my tongue while my hand massages his shaft.

His fingers clamp down hard around my forearm. “For fuck’s sake, kiska,” he growls. “I know you’re hungry for my cock, but you’re gonna have to take it slow.”

I lift my head and hold his gaze for a moment. But I don’t stop fisting his thick shaft.

“Gentler,” he instructs me softly. His voice is much less gruff, much silkier. I’m all too happy to obey, taking him back into my mouth and savoring the way he throbs along my tongue. “Yes, like that… Mmm, fuck…”

His eyes close and he leans back against the black leather chair. “Now, glide your tongue from the bottom to the tip.”

I bend my head back down and obey. I start at the base of him, nuzzling the weight of his balls on my cheek, and apply more pressure with my tongue as I glide up toward his head.

“Fuck. Yes. Just like that.”

I repeat the motion a few times, adding a gentle suckle over that sweet spot that makes him hiss a deep gasp.

“What a good little assistant you are. So fucking obedient. Are you going to stay obedient for me?” “Yes,” I rasp.

“Good girl. Now, suck my dick. Show me how hungry you are.”

I thought he’d never ask. I suck on him desperately, my mouth getting used to his size until I’m confident enough to take him deeper.

At some point, his hand finds the back of my head. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as he presses down gently. He could go harder if he wanted to, though. I’d let him. Hell, I might even beg him to. I’m that fucking desperate for him to fill my throat, to own me in every way possible.

“You’re such a good girl,” he croons. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you take all of me.”

I slurp and swallow, refusing to let up even when I think I’m nearing the end of my ability. I can feel his legs tremble on either side of me as he gets even thicker on my tongue and I know he’s close. I pull him deeper into my mouth and, just when I feel like I’m about to gag on how huge he is, he jerks violently.

Once, twice he spasms, filling my throat with his cum. I swallow as fast as I can, but it just keeps coming.

Finally, there’s nothing left. He pulls out and I gasp, falling back against the cool floor as I try to catch my breath. Ruslan is panting hard, too, and I feel a swell of pride in my chest at the sight of him slumped in his chair.

He just came in my mouth.

He’s the first man to ever have the privilege.

And even though I know it’s in flagrant disregard of the Don’t you dare catch feelings clause of our contract…

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

33

RUSLAN

The train is officially off the track.

Last week’s steamy blowjob in my office pushed it to the edge of the rails. And now, a measly seven days later?

We’re an absolute fucking disaster.

For starters, I can’t stop fucking her at work. Her mere presence is just one big tease. Every time I walk into the office and find her sitting at her desk like a good, innocent little employee, my balls feel like they’re on the verge of exploding. I keep shutting the door on that coquettish smile of hers, trying to resist calling her into my office for reasons that have nothing to do with my meeting schedule or when I want my afternoon coffee brought in.

But day after day, I lose the battle. It doesn’t matter if I invent a lie to drag her in or not; it all ends the same way—with Emma spread out on my desk or up against a wall or bent over the chair while I fuck her brains out.

And since we’ve already established that she’s a screamer, it falls to me to keep her quiet. I’ve experimented thus far with clamping a hand over her lips, burying myself in her mouth, or shoving her panties in while I fist her hair and bend her back so far I wonder if one day her spine might just snap. None of the techniques are particularly effective. I’ll have to keep exploring.

Every time she struts into my office with that cheeky little grin on her face, it feels like a challenge. It feels like she’s asking me, What filthy thing are you going to do to me next?

Maybe that’s why I upped the ante by calling her into a meeting with the board last week just so I could finger her pussy under the table while Henrich Stenson droned on about annual sales reports and net profits.

She squirmed so much and turned so red that Henrich actually paused in the middle of his speech to ask her if she was feeling alright. She stammered through an apology, muttered something about a migraine, and then excused herself. I trapped her in my office later that day and punished her for leaving without my permission. She had three orgasms, one of which gushed on my face, before she begged me to stop.

Suffice it to say, this was definitely not the plan.