ELENA CASSANO
I'd never seen him as mad as he was right now. And I knew I was royally fucked. On the outside, he appeared calm but there was also a swirling storm building within the vicinity of him, waiting for take over.
He walked with slow, precise steps, furrowed brows and adjusted his cuff links with each sharp breath. Dangerously intense with a hint of elegance.
That dark grey suit clinging onto every aspect of his muscular body. Those deep blue eyes met mine but instead of their usual warmth whenever we were alone, his gaze was filled with ice. Sharp and relentless. Cutting through every tissue in my chest.
For a minute, I had the intense urge to suddenly please him. Crawl into his arms and beg him until the warmth in those beautiful eyes of his was back. I had never seen him look at me like this ever before.
Even when we would argue, his emotionless blue eyes were anything but emotionless, they always held a certain glint of amusement or softness to it but now there was nothing. No emotion, no anger, no softness just calm. And that was terrifying itself.
"Open." His low voice demanded as I slipped the key out of the door. He hasn't said anything to me since we left the diner and followed me to my motel room.
The man never asked for an address but he led the way to the motel which had me questioning how long he'd been watching me for.
I hesitated for a moment. My heart was throbbing against my chest, and I could feel my clammy fingers tightened around the strap of my duffel bag. The cold, tall man behind me stalking around me didn't help either.
I didn't know what he was going to do to me once we entered but I had a pretty good idea. He would call my papà and I would be transported back to New York.
"Elena," he said in a low growl, his voice filled with the sweetest agony. "Open the fucking door. Do not make me slam this door into the ground."
I wanted to ask if that was even possible but the man was a trained assassin. Of fucking course he could slam the door into the ground.
My hands trembled slightly at his words, and I inhaled a deep breath before unlocking the door. I didn't move any further than that. Neither did he.
We spent a total of two seconds watching each other. His lips curled slightly with irritation, brooding blue eyes narrowed at the door.
My pulse quickened. I didn't say anything, only watched the man in front of me and wondered if he had really traveled all over the world looking for me.
He rested a hand on the small of my back, the small intimate touch sending shockwaves through my body like I had been burned by a flame.
With the hand on the small of my back, he pushed me gently into the room when my hand appeared to have lingered a little too long on the doorknob.
Immediately, I could feel his large hand morphing over my hips and the slam of my body against the wall.
The air knocked out of my lungs, a gasp before his mouth devoured mine, swallowing my next breath before I could get out a word.
His hand moved away from my hips and came to the front of my hoodie, playing with the strings before I heard a ripping sound, the jagged tear of my hoodie into half. "Hey!"
"Bud' spokoyen," he growled into the side of my neck, grabbed the duffel bag from my shoulder and threw on the ground.
Wrapping a hand around my neck and attacking my throat with rough kisses. I quickly forgot my earlier thoughts about ignoring this man. Yeah ignore my ass. Ignoring this man was never an option.
I gasped when a calloused palm ran up my back, sneaked into my shirt and caressed my skin with the sweetest touch. While his sinful mouth told tales of retribution.
I remained frozen, still refusing to kiss him back ignoring the warmth that flooded my stomach. I didn't like how he could just press his mouth to mine, and my body would burn, and tremble at his touch.
It wasn't fair. This man had complete control over my body and mind even when he wasn't around me. Everyday, all the time, I was always thinking of him.
His palm ran down my body and he landed a sharp slap on my ass, almost demanding for me to kiss him. I fought back a groan when he quickly rubbed the spot he had slapped almost like he was sorry for it.
"Voz'mite menya." He coaxed into my ear. Desire flooded the spot between my thighs when he tugged on my bottom lip. Almost drawing blood. I hesitated for a second time then felt his rough hand grab a fistful of my ass, and I moaned into his mouth.
My stomach flipped in thrill and excitement when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, feeding me every part of me. "Fuck." He groaned into my mouth and muttered strings of Russian words I couldn't even begin to comprehend.
But when he tugged gently on my bottom lip, his fingers slipping into the waistband of my jeans, hefted me against his waist, I melted into the kiss. Completely lost to the wetness and heat of his mouth pressed against mine. Surrendering every part of myself to him.
Before the kiss could go any further, he tugged his mouth away from mine, glancing into my eyes like he could read every part of my soul. And maybe he could. There was always something about the way he could find my eyes in a room filled of strangers, even since the first time we met.
Every time our eyes slid to each other, clashed like a warm light in a cold winter night, I recognized that in every way I was this man's first sight. The first thing he focused on in a world filled with millions.
He pinned me with those intense blue eyes and I shuddered. I was sure I looked like a woman kissed senselessly right now, my cheeks warmed, and nothing but a pair of red bra and jeans.
"Hi there." I murmured softly, taking charge of the direction the conversation would go.
A gentle brush of my hair to the side, and a warm hand tracing the mole on my back. In his softened voice, he whispered his own greeting. "Privet, koshechka."
There was always something about him speaking Russian which always managed to warm me up, and filled me with a sweet satisfaction. He always seemed so powerful and dangerously calm whenever he was speaking his home language.
"So... are you going to call my papà?" I asked breathlessly. Hovering over the decision of seducing him or kissing him before he could respond.
I didn't know what he was thinking but I knew there was nothing more dangerous than a quiet Sin with a knack for revenge.
"Shut up." He interrupted me before I could speak with a brush of his mouth. Soft, warm, and sexy. Dipping his tongue into my parted lips as a show to taste me for himself. A teasing touch which buried within the depths of my thighs and left me starving for more.
