(Get ready... smut ahead)
Aslanov
Her big brown eyes stare up at me while she slowly crawls my way.
The sight makes me hard.
Her big brown eyes burn into mine as she gets on the foor, her wet hair hanging over her face. I take another sip of the wine glass in my hand as I watch her intensely.
Will she become the first person that I will grant my forgiveness to?
Isabella
Making my way over to him feels like crawling towards the gates of hell. Knowing there is no turning back once I enter.
Something in me pulls me towards him. Towards his darkness and everything consumes me. He consumes me. The fear on my tongue starts to taste like arousal with every crawl forward.
"That's a good girl."
More arousal.
Once I'm far enough I'm right in between his legs. Fear tastes like metal on my tongue, but I can't deny the electric shock that slides through my body.
His arm is resting in the armchair while he sips on the red wine in the glass in his other hand. His blouse is rolled up, revealing trained forearms with a lot of blank ink.
"Go on," he mentions at me while looking down at me. His dark green eyes reflect in the moonlight.
I swallow my pride and my attitude, "can I please have your forgiveness?" My voice comes out a mere whisper.
A dark smile forms onto his perfect sharp face, "please who?"
I stare into his light- devoid eyes. He wouldn't care about me, he wouldn't care if he broke me. It's about what he wants, and if I don't give it, he'll take it himself.
And part of me is tempted, tempted to provoke him to take it.
It's the wine. I am not thinking straight and it's messing with my head, is it?
My spine tingles at his voice. "Can I please have your forgiveness Aslanov?"
The name rolls more smoothly over my lips than that I would like. It feels like a prayer, a prayer to the Devil.
Aslanov
My name rolls of her lips with ease and it sounds good, way to good.
I don't do love.
I can't do love.
But I can't deny it, it is not only lust I feel when she sits in front of me. My eyes wander her down, undressing her. My deep humming voice fills the room as she asks me for my forgiveness.
Should I grant her what others have and will never receive?
Isabella
His eyes travel down my body, "please Aslanov?" His smirk only grows with every plea I hold, "please."
He slowly sets the now empty glass down on the table, leaning closer to me. His cologne fills my nostrils, minty, smoky and a hint of wine. His hand reaches out, his thumb slowly stroking my cheek. His eyes hold me captive as his embrace fills me from within, "please?" My half gasp, half whimper would have been embarrassing had I been in my right mind.
"Are you scared of me Isabella?" I swallow. Yes. A lot.
"Yes," he hums at my answer. "You should be."
I know.
This man is calm. The calm type of crazy, which is the most dangerous type.
The chair scratches against the floor as he stands up. Walking away, before being able to protest his Russian accent lingers behind me, "don't move."
YOU ARE READING
Dangerous beginnings / MADE MEN BOOK 1
Mystery / Thriller"That's a good girl, Isabella," he murmurs, his words dripping with satisfaction. "Let go. Give in to me." ------- BOOK 1 in the RUSSIAN MADE MAN SERIE -------- Isabella her eyes were clouded by sorrow and worries. Her soul singing in agony as she m...
