Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 92

“Oh, shit! You have a big event at Alcazar tonight, don’t you? That’s why you were hesitant on the phone—shit—I’m so sorry—” I jerk upright, ready to get off the bed.

But he grabs my arm and pulls me back down. “Emma. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“I should have remembered. I haven’t been to work in three days and I’ve already forgotten everything.”

His chuckle soothes me. He coaxes me closer to him and runs his fingers down my face. “The bruise looks better.”

I nod. “The cut is healing nicely, too. Had my stitches checked this morning.” I glance at the suit again, shining a moody navy in the evening sunlight. “I’ll get out of your way—

Ruslan doesn’t loosen his hold on me. “I’ve got some time. And you’ve come all this way…”

He gives me a smile that makes me blush right down to my toes. “Are you sure?”

He squeezes my ass as he hauls me into his lap and grinds his erection against my heat. “What do you think? Do I feel unsure?”

I cup the side of his face and kiss him. I go in hot and heavy, my tongue pushing into his mouth, desperate to have him claim me the way he likes, the way I love. His hands slide up and down my back but it’s more of a caress than a I’m-gonna-rip-your-clothes-off pawing.

Tenderly, he pushes me backwards onto the bed and rains soft little kisses along my face and down my neck.

Strange. He’s never this gentle.

I arch my hips up until I can feel his hardness. I rub myself against him, desperate for some friction. While he plays with my earlobe, I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock.

“Fuck me, Ruslan,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

He laughs, his breath fanning out over my face, sweet and cool. “I’m happy to fuck you… but we’re gonna take it slow today.”

I pout. “Why?”

He rears back and looks at me with a half-smile on his face. “Emma, you spent the night in a hospital only three days ago, remember?”

I just push my hips into his groin a little harder. “I can take it.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Then maybe you need to tame me.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he says with a fierce snarl. Then he sighs and it smooths out again. “Just… not tonight.”

He silences me with a kiss, his fingers pushing my skirt up and my panties aside. My heart is thrumming softly as he glides his fingers over my clit. Usually, the sex is so explosive that I can’t think straight.

This is different.

I am thinking. About how good this feels. About how gentle he’s being with me. How easily it would be to misconstrue his tenderness for love.

When he finally enters me, I gasp, my gaze connecting with his. Those scorching amber eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them. His thrusts are so controlled. The slow build is in some ways more intense than the heated, button-ripping, breathless-gasping sex I’m used to having with Ruslan. Everything feels so much more heightened.

Unbroken eye contact and synchronized breathing and the way his lips ghost over mine, as if I’m the most precious thing in the world. Careful, Emma…

I told myself that it didn’t matter what he called me. I didn’t need a title or for him to say he loved me. This is what matters. This crazy, cosmic, powerful connection that we’re experiencing together—this is all I need.

But still… it would be so freaking amazing to hear it all the same.

When I come, it takes my breath away.

Afterwards, as I’m struggling to put my skirt back on straight, he grabs me. Tender again. Soft. “I’m going to be busy the next couple of nights. But if you need me, just call. I’ll be there.” I smile. “I’ll call.”

Ben is standing in the living room facing the door when I walk in.

“My God!” I gasp, holding a hand to my racing heart. “Creepy much?”

“Where’ve you been?”

“None of your business.” I glare at him as I drop my purse on the kitchen table. “Are the kids all in bed?”

“Amelia’s putting them to sleep right now,” he says dismissively. “Did you forget that I needed to talk to you?”

I sigh. “What did you need to speak to me about, Ben?”

My body goes cold at the nasal voice that emerges from just around the corner. “About what a bad, bad girl you’ve been.”

“What the—”

Remmy steps into the living room, his arms folded over his chest, that skin-crawling leer on his lips.

“Hello there, pretty woman.”

I look between Ben and Remmy as horror scours through me. “What the hell is this?”

Ben moves to the sofa. “I think the better question would be, what the hell is this?” He plucks out something from behind one of the cushions.

I freeze. I recognize that sheaf of papers.

The contract.

“Where did you get that?” I whisper.

“The glove compartment of your car, of course. Where you hid it,” he sneers at me.

“What the hell were you doing in my car?” I’m shaking now. If I don’t resort to anger, I’ll be reduced to tears.

Ben just shrugs. “Figured, since you were outta commission for a few days, I’d make use of the new wheels. Turns out that was a great decision. Who knew I’d strike gold?”

“You fucking bas—”

“Now, now, Emma, there’s no need to get emotional,” Remmy chides, pushing himself off the wall. “I did warn you.”

I try to lunge for the contract but Ben holds it out of my reach. Chuckling, he passes it to Remmy, who starts tut-tutting in my direction. “Who would have thought, hm? The pretty little assistant, no better than a two-bit hooker on the side of the road.”

“That is not what this is!”

“Oh, no?” Remmy asks with arched eyebrows. “Because there’s a whole clause in this contract that details how you will be paid an exorbitant sum of money every month for spreading your legs two nights a week in a luxurious penthouse with Ruslan Oryolov.”

I want to kill Ben, but since Remmy’s the one with his finger on the trigger, I focus my energy on him.

“Remmy, please—don’t print this.”

He shrugs, eyes gleaming like lit coals. “If you had come clean with me in the beginning, I’d have found a way to protect you. I could have blacked out your name in this contract, protected your identity. Now, though…” He shrugs again. “Now, I couldn’t care less about your reputation.”

He really thinks I care about my reputation. The only reputation I’m thinking about right now is Ruslan’s.

I’m this close to a panic attack. If only I had the luxury of succumbing to one. “Okay. Okay. What do you want?”

Remmy smiles. “Oh, now, she asks.”