The Darkest Temptation (Made Book 3)

noctilucous

(adj.) shining or luminescent in the dark

RONAN

“When someone calls you a whore, you get the fuck out of their bed,” I growled. “It’s called having a little self-respect.”

Did I have to teach this girl the basics before she went home to Miami and let men degrade her? Simply the thought sent a violent fire up my back, searing me with the claim only I was allowed to degrade her.

“I don’t need your respect.” Her soft American accent crept beneath my skin, slid downward, and grabbed ahold of my cock just as I imagined her hand would.

My gaze hardened. “You don’t know what you need.”

“Maybe not, but I do know what I want.”

It was clear what that was, but I found myself asking anyway. “And what do you want?”

“Right now . . . you.”

Fuck. That wasn’t what I expected her to say. I anticipated a silent blush or for her to ask for an orgasm. Not me, her goddamn kidnapper. And right after I insulted her no less—which was a reflex to get her out of my bed before I took what she was offering. She had no reservations about putting herself out there. Her soft heart was going to get her killed. How she’d survived so long and still maintained her innocence was a mystery.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m not the one with a hard-on,” she returned.

A sliver of humor rose up my throat, but I held in the laugh. I was trying to make a point here—that you shouldn’t put your heart out for the world to see if you wanted to live—and I wasn’t going to let her ruin it with her mouth.

“This is why I don’t fuck virgins. They get clingy as hell.”

She laughed lightly. “I’m not going to fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

First off, “afraid” was the last thing I felt when it came to fucking her. Second off, what the hell? This girl could fall in love with a goddamn rock. Then my thoughts went to Ivan, and poison blistered through my veins.

“Why not, kotyonok?” I slid my thumb across her lips, my voice lowering to a warning. “Is your heart already taken?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she had to say, so, when her lips parted with a shallow breath, I pushed my thumb between them. Her eyes were half-lidded as she closed her mouth around my finger. The hot glide of her tongue slid down to solidify in my groin. I pulled my thumb free and wiped the wetness across her lips, taking in everything about her.

Moonlight played across her body as if it loved her. Venomous snakes had stripes; Mila glowed. The only shadows that touched her were mine.

Her skin was flawless, her waves of hair spread out like she was posed for a centerfold. A thin tank top concealed the rise and fall of her breasts. She was hard to look at and hard to look away from. So soft, so perfect, so goddamn fuckable.

It was a nightmare.

She sawed her lip between her teeth, her breath growing slower the longer I looked at her. I could close the distance so easily and feel her tongue against mine. I wasn’t against kissing, but I’d never been so compelled by the idea like I was with her either.

Unwillingly, my gaze drifted to her nipples, visible beneath her tank top. The bright, sexless sunflowers all over it did nothing to help control the urge to yank down the thin fabric and suck a nipple into my mouth. As if her tits weren’t tempting enough, the heat of her pussy seared my cock through her shorts. My muscles tightened as I resisted the urge to grind against the warmth; to tug her flimsy shorts to the side and push deep inside of her. I knew I’d find her wet and tight—so fucking tight. My blood roared in my ears and cast a cloudy sheen over my vision.

With a growl of frustration, I sat back on my haunches in an effort to put some distance between us so I could think. Karma would bite me in the ass if I fucked this girl. I knew what she needed and that I couldn’t give it to her. My conscience was a goddamn cockblock. I wanted Mila so bad, the desire grabbed ahold of me, twisted beneath my skin, and demanded I take her. At this point, I didn’t think I could allow her to go even if she changed her mind. And the loss of control suddenly made me hate her a little bit.

All thoughts stalled when Mila pushed up from the bed with a hand and ran the other down my chest. The simple touch burned like a line of fire, sending all the blood in my body south. We both watched her hand trail down my abs before it stopped at my briefs, where she traced the waistband with a finger. Each back and forth motion throbbed in my groin.

When her hazy gaze lifted to mine, a ripple of darkness slithered through me. The lust in her stare was all mine. Until Saturday at least. The idea she would give those eyes to someone else afterward made me fist a hand in her hair to keep her stare on mine. Fuck karma. I needed to get this shit out of my system right now.

“I want . . .” She flushed and, unable to finish the sentence, her fingers tugged my waistband down an inch, showing me what she wanted but couldn’t say. Her hand grazed the head of my cock. The smallest brush turned my blood to liquid fire, drumming hot and heavy inside of me. But I needed to hear her say the words.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“English,” she said softly.

Jesus Christ. For the fifth time with this girl, I didn’t realize I’d spoken in Russian. Frustration lit up my back.

“Be more specific.”

My annoyance faded when her hand slipped beneath my briefs and over the length of my dick. I hissed through my teeth. Heat curled at the base of my spine, sending a shudder outward. Nothing was practiced about her touch—in fact, it felt a little unsure. I didn’t know if it was because I’d waited so long to get to this point with her or because her inexperience was a novelty, but, disturbingly enough, her hand down my briefs made me harder than I’d ever been in my life.

“I want this,” she breathed, wrapping her fingers around my cock before slowly stroking it from the base to the head. A low groan rose up my throat. I needed to tighten her grip, but knowing I couldn’t let her push me too far yet, I covered her hand with mine to still the movement.

“There aren’t going to be any rose petals or lit candles,” I told her.

She pursed her lips. “Not even one—”

“No.”

The smallest smile appeared, and I experienced the weird urge to kiss it off her mouth. I found the compulsion so annoying my grasp on her hair tightened, roughly tugging her head back farther.

She exhaled. “Fine.”

Feeling like I needed to make myself crystal clear, I said, “I’m not going to fuck you slow and sweet.”

“Bummer.” She pouted. “I thought I was in for something really romantic here.”

I was too hard to be amused by her sarcasm.

“It’ll mean nothing to me afterward.”

“God, stop talking,” she said with frustration. “I’m not that delicate. Just fuck me like you would Nadia.”

My entire body quieted. The fact that shit just came out of her mouth sent a wave of fury down my spine. In a flash, I threw her onto her hands and knees, yanked her head back by her hair, and pressed my hard cock against her ass.

“This?” I growled. “This is how you want me to fuck you?”

She panted, not resisting the hold I had on her hair, before saying harshly, “As long as it lasts longer than two seconds this time.”

I was now more pissed than I was hard. And it had nothing to do with her revoking my man card. Mila didn’t seem to give a shit if I fucked her like anyone else, while I felt like setting Moscow on fire at just the idea she was imagining someone other than me.

When I released my grip on her hair, she exhaled, her head falling forward.

“I don’t want to hear that name on your lips ever again.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking said so.” Because I didn’t like it. If she wanted it just like Nadia, she should have brought another woman in with her. And, oddly enough, I didn’t want anyone else’s hands on Mila—females included.

She glanced at me over her shoulder, and the soft look in her eyes, unsure but hot, rushed all my attention to my dick pressed against her ass. The anger dissolved, leaving my body tight and throbbing with suppressed lust.

I grabbed her shorts and pulled them down, exhaling a ragged breath at the sight. Running my hands over her ass, I molded the soft flesh to fit my palms before slapping it. Mila inhaled, and her hips arched, all that blonde hair trailing to the small of her back.

I couldn’t stop myself from pulling back to bite each bare cheek and then lick her from her pussy to her ass. She moaned and rocked back against me. I wanted to make her come on my tongue, but a single taste made my balls ache.

I wiped a hand across my mouth in an effort to calm the blood pounding in my ears. Though the sight of her on her hands and knees stretched my willpower thin. She was so goddamn hot, I slapped her ass again hard.

“Ow,” she complained half-heartedly. “That hurt.”

“You asked for this, kotyonok.”

“Can you just get on with—” I pushed two fingers inside of her, and she sighed, “Oh, God.”

She clenched down on me so tightly, I groaned and pulled my fingers free before I could give in to the urge to fuck her with them. Making a noise of frustration, she turned her head to watch me wrap my hand around my shaft and stroke it once, her eyes half-lidded.

“Do that again,” she breathed.

Fuck. She wanted to watch me jack off.

“Another time.” When I wasn’t going to have to fight the need to come.

When I rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy, the heat of it almost burning, a tremble coasted through her, and her fingers gripped the sheets.

“Nervous?” I asked coarsely.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She was tense as fuck when I eased inside of her—so tense she almost resisted me completely. I caressed her ass and started saying shit I had no control of, unaware of what language I spoke. It could have been fucking Mandarin.

“I know you can take me, kotyonok . . . You’re so goddamn wet . . . This is the nicest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

She finally relaxed. I watched for her reaction while sliding in farther, until I was as deep as I could go. Fuck me. My eyes closed for a second. She gripped me like a tight, wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, but I gave her a moment to adjust, running my hands over the curves of her ass and squeezing.

After a moment, she rocked back against me, and I gave her more, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in. She groaned and dropped to her elbows, bracing her hands on the headboard. I knew this pussy was made to fuck, but . . . Jesus. I slapped her ass in frustration, and when she clenched around me, it took every ounce of restraint to maintain the slow pace.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes settling on each lazy thrust. I rasped, “You like to watch?” and before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder.

Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on my pillow to quiet her moan sent a heady rush to my head, lighting a violent fire inside me. I hissed at the tight pull of her cunt, pressure tightening at the base of my spine. I was lost for a moment, taking her hard and watching her ass jiggle with every thrust.

When she reached back and grabbed my wrist, her nails digging in, I realized it was a reflex of pain and slowed. She was probably still sore from last night, and I was fucking her too hard. I didn’t like the heavy feeling that knowledge sent to my chest. Though what I didn’t like the most was the fact she wasn’t going to tell me I was hurting her.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her back against my chest. She was panting; fucked into a soft, compliant haze. Her head fell to rest against my shoulder. I felt her heart pounding, her fingers gripping my wrist, and her breath against my neck. They weren’t things I usually noticed, and somehow, all of it created a knot behind my ribs.

I skimmed my lips against her ear, my voice rough. “If it’s too much, tell me. Or I’ll stop right now.”

I’d rather take a bullet than stop right now.

“I told you I can take it,” she breathed.

“I don’t give a fuck what you can take. I’m not into dishing out pain.”

“You’re not into slow and sweet either. I don’t know what you want from me.” Insecurity touched her voice. “I want you to like it.”

Fuck. She wanted to please me right now. Why did she have to be so selfless? As much as it annoyed me, it also hit me in the solar plexus. I couldn’t seem to do the right thing with her. She felt too good, too soft, too fucking yellow. It was greedy as hell, but I wanted anything she would give me.

I nipped her earlobe. “Trust me, kotyonok, I’d like it if I were fucking you in slow motion.” I tugged at her tank top. “Now, take this off.”

She pulled it over her head, the motion consuming me with her soft, summery scent. She smelled so damn good I bit down on her neck and sucked, leaving another mark behind. With a sigh, she turned her head to give me more access. I squeezed one of her tits in my hand and told her, “I think I’ll fuck these next.”

With a moan, her head lolled on my shoulder when I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. As I played with her tits and sucked at her neck, she grew restless, rocking her hips for friction before rising, pulling me out almost completely, and then taking me back in as deep as possible.

I groaned and let her fuck me for a moment until she was whimpering and trembling for more.

I nuzzled her neck. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”

The sound of Mila begging gave me a fucking rush that rivaled any drug on the market. At least, I imagined so. I’d never touched a single narcotic in my life.

I nipped her shoulder and said, “Such good manners,” before sliding my hand between her legs. She bounced on me, taking me in with lazy strokes, while I rubbed her clit. Her sounds were pushing me to the edge. So much soft skin and hair. It was all fucking over me.

“I’m gonna . . .”

I pushed her to her hands and knees and fucked her through her orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me so tightly, the heat sliding down my back threatened to erupt. Breath ragged, I stilled and ran my hand up her spine.

“I want to come inside you.” I had no idea that came out of my mouth until it was too late to stop.

She sighed, giving me her lazy, nonverbal consent.

“Don’t let me come inside you,” I growled. I shouldn’t even be fucking her without a condom—regardless if I was clean, and so was she considering her inexperience.

“I have an IUD.”

I processed her words for a second before asking darkly, “Why?” She hated doctors. The only reason she would have an IUD was . . . fucking infuriating. “Were you going to let someone else have this?” I squeezed her ass cheek.

“No . . . I don’t know.”

Not the right answer. In fact, it was so much the wrong answer, I slapped her ass hard enough to welt. She yelped and arched her back, her eyes opening to shoot me a glare over her shoulder. Her annoyance faded when I pulled out and thrust back in at an angle that hit her G-spot. A low moan rose up her throat. I realized I’d never heard her say my name before. And I suddenly needed to.

“You want more, kotyonok?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me who’s fucking you,” I demanded harshly.

“Does it matter?” She tried to rock back against me, but I held her still by her hips.

“Yes, it fucking matters.”

“Why? In the end, I’ll only remember your headboard. It really is a sexy design.”

Gritting my teeth, I threw her to her back so roughly she bounced. I pushed inside of her in one hard thrust, braced my hands beside her head, and watched her eyes roll back. Her fingers gripped my wrists.

“Is this what you want?” I growled.

She was flushed from her orgasm, her breathing rough, but she still managed to say, “I want candles.”

It was so fucking ridiculous, my anger faded. Her soft hands slid down my sides and grabbed ahold of my hips to urge me on. I hated this position. Staring into a woman’s eyes during sex felt so intimate it was nauseating, but Mila wasn’t meeting my gaze; she was looking at where my cock was deep inside her. I found it hot and somewhat . . . annoying she was focused on the sight instead of my face.

“Move,” she breathed.

“No. You want your missionary fuck? Tell me who fucked you first.”

“You.”

She trailed her fingers up my arms, across my shoulders, and into my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.

“My name, kotyonok.”

“Ronan.”

A groan rumbled in my chest, and I started a steady pace, pushing into her with long, slow thrusts. She braced her hands on the bed behind her and rose up to kiss my chest with a graze of teeth, running her mouth everywhere she could reach. I couldn’t bring myself to make her stop.

“Who’s fucking you now?”

Kissing the corner of my lips, she breathed, “Ronan.” Then she slid her tongue into my mouth, and I had no willpower to resist sucking it.

I fisted her hair and tugged her head back so I could see her eyes. “And who fucks you from now on?” Until Saturday. Everything in me hated the idea so much, I thrust into her hard, forcing her next word out with a moan.

“Ronan.”

I dropped to my elbows, relishing the feel of her tits against my bare chest. She wrapped her long legs around my hips, and when I rolled my pelvis to brush her clit, a sigh of pleasure escaped her.

I skimmed my lips down her neck. “You like that, kotyonok?”

She ran her nails down the length of my back in response, rolling her hips against mine with every thrust. Her little moans were so damn sexy, I kissed her to taste them. She sipped on my bottom lip and then ran her tongue across my scar. I exhaled roughly. Whenever she did that, it made me feel as if I’d been lacking something until she came around and licked me.

Her lips were so soft, and I parted them with my own, slipping my tongue inside. The kiss went straight to my chest.

“I want to . . .” She panted the words between the slide of my lips. “See you . . .” I sucked her bottom lip and released the flesh with a graze of teeth. “Come.”

“You first, kotyonok.”

I grabbed her hands, held them above her head, and grinded against her clit until she shattered beneath me. Then I pressed my face into her neck and came inside her, a white-hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black. My muscles shook, so I rolled off her before I crushed her with my body weight.

I caught my breath for a moment and almost laughed at the irony. A virgin made me come harder than I ever had before. When I felt the mattress dip, I automatically grabbed her wrist without looking.

“I’m tired,” Mila said and pulled against my grip.

Sliding my gaze to her, I saw she was refusing to look at me, her eyes on the door as if she couldn’t wait to leave. I didn’t know why, but I found it fucking irritating. I yanked her ass back to the bed beside me. She exhaled in frustration, and then I noticed the tear running down her cheek. Fuck. My throat felt tight. I knew Mila couldn’t do a casual fuck. I knew, and I took it anyway.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Tell me to stop crying and then let me go.”

Instead, I brushed the tear away with my thumb. The wetness burned my skin and expanded a pressure in my chest that demanded I kiss her. So I did. She sighed into my mouth, her lips tentative against mine.

I pulled back to say, “I’ll get Yulia to find some candles.”

A small smile touched her lips. She thought I was joking. When I reached for my phone on the nightstand, she panicked and grabbed my arm.

“Really, I’m fine,” she said just as another tear escaped.

I wiped the tear away. “Malen’kaya lgunishka . . .” Then I rolled her underneath me and braced my hands on either side of her head. Before she could complain, her eyes paused on my shoulders; on the nautical star tattoo on each one. I could do nothing but look at her as she touched the pendant on her necklace.

The moonlight loved her.

But not as much as my shadows.

“Ti slishkom ideal’naya chto bi byt’ nastoyashchey.” The words escaped me without thought, and when she looked at me with wet lashes, so did the translation I pressed to her ear.