Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
I nod but don’t answer. She swings the door shut then stops it halfway and puts her head back in. She opens her mouth. Shuts it again. “Yeah.” She shuts the door.
I wait until I see she’s safely in the building before I drive off. As I do, the finality of my words starts to crush me from the inside out. Did I mean it? That we’re done?
Yeah, I guess I did.
There’s no room for anything but sex. She wants the bad boy to get her off a few times without any structure of a relationship.
And for once in my life, I want something more. I deserve more.
After a lifetime of just trying to keep me and my twin alive, it’s time to look beyond Friday night games and making money for the boss.
Everyone else has love.
Why can’t I too?
My phone buzzes when I’m almost back at the Kremlin. I know without looking that it will be Chelle.
I feel like I offended you. I'm sorry. You were great tonight with the clients.
I don't answer.
I’m not a baby. It’s not that I’m so offended or she hurt my feelings. I just realized it was time to cut bait. Chelle fascinates me, but it couldn’t work.
I pull into the underground parking lot and park Oleg’s SUV. On the elevator up to my floor, she texts again.
It's just that I don't know how to have sex with someone without marrying them in my mind.
I try not to warm up to her. This confess-all is cute, but it still doesn’t mean—
Another text comes through. I think I like the idea of sex as a transaction in the same way 1 in 5 women have fantasies of being forced. Or want to be tied up.
Aw, fuck. Now I can’t resist. Do you want me to tie you up, Chelle? I text back. The elevator doors slide open, and I step out, stopping in the empty hallway to wait for her reply.
What am I doing? I just decided at her place that I wanted more than sex, and it wasn’t going to happen with her.
Um...yes? Maybe?
Why does she have to be so damn adorable? Everything she does is cute. I just can’t get enough of it.
Before I can stop myself, I text, Want to make a deal with the devil?
My dick thickens at the wicked idea dancing around in my head. I ignore my hard-on and walk to my apartment.
I know it’s against my rules. I know I wanted the real deal and not meaningless sex, but this is the opening she gave me. She doesn’t want to date me. She wants sex as a transaction.
So, fuck it—she’s worth breaking my rules for. I want her beneath me, writhing that tight little body of hers and moaning my name. I wouldn’t mind a bit if she was tied up while I’m at it. Maybe she could wear my collar and a ball-gag. Call me Daddy or Master or Sir.
And I thought our bratva brother Pavel was the kinky one.
I use the keycard to open my door and walk inside. The place has never felt emptier. Leaving the lights off, I go straight to the bedroom and flop on my back.
Are you the devil? her message comes through.
I snort as I text back, Obviously.
Maybe, she replies.
Yes or no?
Yes?
I shouldn’t. Not because it’s wrong but because sex is not a currency I accept. I mean, it’s not like I can pay out my brothers their share. Well, I technically could, but I’d sooner cut my own balls off.
Fuck it.
30 nights and your brother's free.
As soon as I type it, I get hard as stone.
She texts back almost immediately. Consecutive?
Blyad’, she’s mine. My dick goes rock hard. I unzip my pants to let it out, but I don’t let myself stroke it. The torture suddenly feels good. I could have Chelle’s pouty lips stretched around my length by tomorrow night. I could turn her ass pink again and listen to her sweet little moans. Put her on her knees for me and teach her how to serve.
I am the devil, and I’m not even a little bit sorry for breaking my own rules.
Yes. I own you for one month, I text her. You leave, you forfeit all.
She doesn’t answer for a moment, and I start to sweat. Maybe she’ll tell me no. She’s definitely thinking about it.
Do I get hard limits? It can’t interfere with my job.
I almost fist pump in the darkness. I type back, The job is a hard limit. What else?
Anal?
No deal. I’m fucking that cute ass of yours, or we’re not playing.
Eek.
I chuckle out loud. My room suddenly feels like a bedroom again, not this empty space where I lay my body at night.
Hurting me? Another text immediately follows. And no sex with other people.
No one else, I text back. For either of us. I send it then send another missive. I will only hurt you in ways you like.