Chapter 5

“Go sit down,” He suggested, loosing his grip. I turn around in his arms.

“I want to dance some more—”

He narrows his eyes.

I look away. “I'm going to get another drink. I'm thirsty.”

He smirks, humming dubiously, as I stalk away.

That bastard. I'm doing it because he suggested it—I'm alittle parched is all.

All that submissive shit is bs, anyway. What am I?

Anna from 50 shades?

Although...

Anyway, I'm not weak. I'm not submissive. And I'm drinking because I want to.

I pout, looking out at that criminal Niko.

He's talking to another guy. He's hot too.

I read their lips as best I can, but it's hard from this distance, and the lights don't help.

All I get is:

Where is the rest?

The other man says something like, Moving in to... something.

That damned criminal glances at me, and I stare back at him. He quirks a brow, his mouth moving.

Soon enough, the other hottie leaves. He stares at me across the club.

His long elegant finger reaches out, crooking, dragging me toward him with invisible strings.

I'm up and moving before I even realize it.

He puts his arms around me.

“You know what else marks a submissive? How cute they get around a dominant. Look at this adorable expression you're making.”

I look away.

“Aw, you're pouting,” He teased, crooking a finger under my chin, directing it toward him. “Are you mad at me, little one?”

Far cry for Doctor Korovin isn't it?

“My name is Anastasia,” I say more petulantly than I meant to.

He smiles at me, a sly smile, like he knows something I don't.

“I'm going to call you, Little One. You can call me Master.”

M-master? Is he out of his mind?

“You're crazy,” I seethe, pushing him away.

I just wanted to mourn my relationship in peace.

How did I get tangled with this lunatic?

“Little One,” He whispered, pulling me in close to him. My heart pounds.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

There are so many people around, but it's like we're alone, tucked in a corner of the universe where no one else exists.

He starts leaning toward me. I swallow roughly, because what the hell do I do? Do I kiss back? Do I push him away?

What if there's glitter on my face, and he just wants to wipe it away, and I lean in like an idiot?

His lips find mine, soft and warm. Mesmerized, I lean into the tender kiss.

Our lips collide beautifully, sweetly, until somehow, we're grabbing at each other, ravaging one another, unable to get enough to be satisfied.

Cherries and alcohol fill my mouth, indulging my taste buds. Irish Spring fills my nose.

He groans in my mouth pushing me up against the wall. His hand rests beside my head as he mercilessly attacks my lips. I fall into him, into his kiss.

It feels never ending, like a black hole, I keep falling, falling. But then I have to breathe. He pulls away, eyes hooding, chest heaving.

We're both panting now. I think he meant for a soft kiss. That's not what that was. Remanents of the electricity between us crackled, as he peered at me through his thick, black lashes.

His eyes glowed, sparking.

I can't deny one thing. We have chemistry. Not the high school lab kind, either. Explosions, gasoline fire burning the darkness away.

I kissed the criminal. Oh God. What's wrong with me. I look away, wanting to fade away, wanting to pull him in again, wanting to...

“Don't shrink away from me,” He demanded gutturally, “It's okay,” He coaxed in that baritone voice of his. “Kiss me.”

Is it okay? Is it okay to kiss him? Is it okay to like it? Is it okay he sought me out to have sex with me?

Is any of this okay?

He licks his lips, his eyes on mine, andding a hoarse,“Please."

And that does it. The noise is filtered out as I slowly slide my hand in his hair, pulling him close.

We're in that pocket of space and time again, just us. It's silent and still, as our lips come together once more.

This time it's soft, sweet, chasye. I pull away.

Forcing my eyes open. He's staring at me, and a second passes, before I'm drowning in Irish Spring again.

He's devouring me, and devouring him, nothing of us left in that little space we exist in when our lips touch.

Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum

My heart might explode at this rate, he's driving me up a wall literally, discontent with the space between us.

We rip apart, violent as the chemistry we share. He pressed his forehead against mine.

“I'm gonna take you home with me tonight,” He says gruffly. He clears his throat.

I bite my tender lip. “Okay,” I whisper.He takes my hand as we make a break for it. He hails a taxi, old fashioned. He gives the address, his words decisive and firm.

My mind is clouded and he makes sure to keep it that way, fogging my mind with kisses the whole ride.

The car stops. He gets out, leaving me in back seat panting. The door nearest me opens, and I'm being dragged out, into his arms into his house, frantic.

He throws me against a wall making me flinch. His lips press against my neck, as he destorys my clothes, to get to me.

“Mh," I moan as he fondled my breasts, “Niko..."

He comes up to my lips, pressing against them lightly. “Oh yeah, my name isn't Niko. My name is Nikolai Sokolov. Remember it."

N-nikolai Sokolov?

You mean...

He smirks at my wide eyes.

“So you've heard of me?” He licks my lip. “Well that just makes this easier.”

Nikolai Sokolov. The future Mafia Don?

Maybe it's another Nikolai Sokolov. That's a common name in Russia, right?

Right?!

“Shhh,” He whispered. “Quiet your mind. Look at me,” He murmured.

I do. He smiles. Lifting his hand, his fingers brushing myeyelashes.

“Those puppy dog eyes,” He breathes. He kisses me again, taking my breath away, questions away.

We eventually make it to the bed. Undressing roughly throughout the house.