The Enforcer (Chicago Bratva #3) - Renee Rose Page 0,29

exploded rather than fizzled. I’m definitely sorry things went down this way, but I need to cut my losses and go.

Oleg catches my arm. His hand is gentle, but he holds me firmly. I meet his eye. He shakes his head.

“No, what? You gotta give me more.”

He points to the door and shakes his head. Okay, he’s trying, but that just pisses me off even more. He doesn’t get to tell me not to leave when he refuses to even try to communicate otherwise. I shake off his touch. I head into the bathroom to use the toilet and mouthwash. I find my clothes. I pull on the panties, tights, and skirt, which barely shows beneath his long shirt.

Oleg stands in the middle of his beautiful apartment. He watches me, unease in his shoulders.

“Catch you on the flip side.” I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss his jaw. A muscle flexes in it. I know he’s shaking his head, but I ignore it and head past him to the door where I shove my feet in my boots and pick up my jacket and guitar.

I feel Oleg moving up behind me but don’t acknowledge his presence. Not until his giant ham-hand leans against the door to keep me from opening it.

“Oh really.” My voice drips with disbelief. “You’re going to stop me?” I’m used to Oleg being a gentleman. Holding me captive feels out of character.

His hand doesn’t move.

I whirl to face him, chin up. There’s regret in his expression. His brows are down, his eyes troubled. He shakes his head.

It occurs to me that the narrative in my head might be a totally different one than his. Is he stopping me because he’s trying to protect me or is he keeping me prisoner? A sobering thought occurs to me. Is he worried I’ll call the police on him?

“I won’t tell anyone about last night. You know that, right?”

He nods without hesitation.

Okay, he does trust me.

“All right. Good. I really need to get home.”

He still won’t move his hand.

“Oleg.” I shove at his chest, which gets me exactly nowhere. “I’m not staying here to be stonewalled by you!”

His eyes widen in surprise. He takes his hand from the door. I seize the moment and grab the handle to yank the door open.

It slams in my face. Oleg gives my ass a single smack like I’m an errant child. It stings and tingles, making heat bloom in my core.

“Oh really? You’re going to spank me?” Now, I’m annoyed and horny. My panties are already damp. I send a challenging look over my shoulder. “Well, you’d better finish that thought, or I’m just going to be pissed.”

His brows shoot up. He moves slowly, like he’s making sure he understood me correctly, capturing both my wrists in one of his hands and pinning them to the door. When I don’t protest, he smacks my ass with his other hand, harder this time, then squeezes my offended cheek.

I let out a shaky breath, my pussy contracting. He nudges my feet wider. I arch my back and show him I really want it. He pulls the t-shirt off from my head and flattens my palms on the door. Leaving my hands unattended, he loops his forearm around my waist and yanks my panties down my thighs. Then he lights my ass on fire with swift, hard spanks. Like any time Oleg decides to go forward, he doesn’t hold back.

I gasp and squeeze my buttcheeks. It’s too much but also so good, so thrilling to me, that I bite my lip to keep from protesting.

I squirm under the onslaught. It’s right on the line between pain and pleasure. I hate it and love it at the same time. But when he slides the fingers of his other hand between my legs and palms my pussy while he keeps spanking, I flip way over to the side of pleasure. Delirious, erotic pleasure.

“Yeah,” I whisper-moan when his fingers start to move between my legs. I arch my back, stick my ass out, grind into his palm. It’s incredible.

The best thing ever.

“Ow. Oh…Oleg,” I gasp.

So unexpected. I had no idea I’d like this sort of thing.

One of his fingers sinks into me while I continue to ride his palm. I’m dancing under the sharp spanks he’s delivering, writhing and bucking. My cheek presses against the door. I don’t even recognize the panting needy woman dripping arousal down Oleg’s fingers as he spanks me hard until I—

Come.

Oh God, do