Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

46. Zoya

46

ZOYA

I lied when I said there is no better fix for a broken ego than spoiling someone more defeated than you. Meddling in their blossoming love life is far more cathartic.

Even Aleena agrees.

She hasn’t stopped snooping for information on Nikita’s connection with Maksim Ivanov all morning. She seems more interested in their coupling than her upcoming nuptials. I’d be worried if it didn’t make her so happy. She’s as obsessed with scheming as I am, and it reminds me that we’re more alike than our mother will ever admit.

The hype is also keeping my focus off my disappointment that Andrik sent his brother to do his bidding last night. Mikhail didn’t hide the fact that Andrik was in the building with us. He joked that I should take the service elevator to force him out of hiding, undermining my determination to unearth Zakhar’s relationship to Andrik with lust.

I’ve never felt more disappointed with myself.

Fortunately for me, my confidence is about to be slathered with a ton of compliments all bikini competition contestants sign up for.

“Here she comes,” announces Aleena, drawing me from my thoughts.

Nikita is hot on the tail of Shevi, Aleena’s chief bridesmaid, wearing the bikini we conned her into only minutes ago when she thought we were going for a swim.

She didn’t see the brilliance in Aleena’s plan as readily as I did.

I wait to hear the click of a lock sliding into place before pulling my best shocked expression. “Oh no. You left our room in only a bikini, and our key card is still inside. Whatever will we do?”

Shevi steps back with her hands in the air, mumbling her innocence when Nikita shoots daggers at her. She can pull off the preacher’s daughter’s look.

Aleena and I aren’t so lucky.

Nikita sniffs out our wickedness in under a second.

“This isn’t funny. We’re not freshmen anymore. Let me back into our room.”

I act as if there isn’t an ounce of angst in her words. “I would if I could, but I can’t.”

“Zoya…” The shortness of her reply announces her lie detector machine is in full operation. We’re well past busted, but since this is far more fun than sulking, I continue my ruse.

Aleena’s giggles make my heart beat faster when Nikita pats me down like bags of cocaine are strapped to my chest instead of the prize money I am hoping will make up the deficit I caused to Ellis’s bribe yesterday.

When her search comes up empty-handed, I add words to the silent acknowledgement hardening her features. “I honestly don’t have it.”

Since my tone is honest, she shifts her focus to my accomplices.

“Don’t look at me,” Aleena blurts out, her face as guilty now as it was when we ate a week’s worth of chocolate in one sitting.

We had a stomachache for days on end, but the snippet of rebellion it fired in her eyes made it so worthwhile. It was the first time I truly believed she would one day get out from under our mother’s reign.

“I only asked if we could host part of the bachelorette party here. I didn’t demand unlimited access.”

With Aleena’s brow full of sweat, I jump back into the conversation before our ruse is busted. A room key card is an easy thing to hide when you have E cups, but since I knew that would be the first place Nikita would look, Aleena stuffed it between her almost as generous breasts.

“Oh poo. I guess that means we’ll have to go down to the foyer and ask for another key.”

I can’t hide my smile when Nikita grumbles, “The foyer wouldn’t happen to be next to the bikini competition area, would it?”

“No,” I reply, pffting . “But the registration desk for the bikini competition is right next door.”

As I hit the button to call the elevator to our floor, Nikita folds her arms over her chest and murmurs, “I’ll wait for you here.”

I enter the elevator, calling out her bluff with the confidence only a best friend can have. “Okay. But if my hand ends up down a billionaire’s pants, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

It dawns on me that I was a little light with the information I shared with Aleena while ruminating on our plan when she shouts, “You put your hand down Maksim Ivanov’s pants?”

“No,” Nikita denies, her voice barely a whisper. “He put my hand down there.”

“Get in. Now! ”

Aleena doesn’t give her a chance to back out again. She pulls her into the elevator by the strap of her bikini bottoms, cracking the air with as much energy as the surge racing through my veins.

A bikini competition is a great way to force Maksim to stop playing games, but I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t wondered if it will coerce the same response from another hot-blooded Russian.

Nikita chickened out of the bikini competition, but Aleena has more than enough excitement to keep up the hype. I forget stuff like this isn’t the norm for her. That having fun with your girlfriends, drinking like a sailor on shore leave, and being seen as an object of desire for reasons beyond your fertility status weren’t meant to be a part of any stage of our lives.

We were raised to act a certain way. Told how to behave, speak, and eat. Etiquette classes never included prancing around in a two-piece string bikini.

The remembrance sees me wolf whistling like I work on a construction crew when Aleena and Shevi work the stage like they were destined for stardom.

If Aleena’s husband-to-be thinks he’s getting a demure wife, he’s about to be taught a hard lesson.

Demure will no longer be associated with Sakharoff women. Aleena’s strut assures this, and my upcoming prance will seal the deal.

After high-fiving Aleena on the way by, I burst onto the stage with more gall than I had only two nights ago. The crowd goes crazy, and I eat up the attention. Their catcalls and whistles pull my confidence out of the trench it’s been milling in the past few days, surging it to an almost unmanageable level.

I’m having so much fun it takes several prolonged beats to recognize one of the many faces reflecting at me from the crowd. I can’t blame alcohol for the sluggish response. My veins are vodka-free. It is the fact that I’ve sat across from him only once before. Our exchange lasted as long as it took for me to drive him to the other side of town. It was also six years ago. Right around Aleena’s sixteenth birthday.

Does Aleena know Bayli is here?

Is he the cause of the extra spring in her step when she leaped off the stage?

Bayli’s expression doesn’t give anything away. He looks more confused than pleased. But unlike hundreds of men in the audience, his eyes aren’t fixated on my chest. He’s staring at the curtains Aleena raced through only a minute ago, wide-eyed and baffled.

I’m so eager to learn if Aleena saw her ex in the crowd that I don’t realize the hurricane zooming in on me until it is too late. Faster than I can blink, my elbow is seized in a firm grip a second after my foot leaves the stage, and I’m walked out of the backstage area filled with competitors.

I don’t need to look up to know whose ugly green head has reared. The zap his meekest touch surged through my body is all the indication I need to know who is accosting me, so I won’t mention his numerous mutterings about my body count never reaching six.

Only one clear line of verbiage makes it through the gibberish. “Cover me until I get back.” Andrik’s grip tightens on my arm before he shouts, “I don’t give a fuck what Maksim wants. Cover for me.”

After he removes a bead-like device from his ear and crushes it under his polished boot, he stares down at me. His haughty expression displays that Maksim’s orders will never triumph his wish to punish me.

I wasn’t with a man, but my bikini leaves nothing to the imagination. To a man as dominant and possessive as Andrik, that’s practically the same thing.

That doesn’t mean I’ll let him boss me around, though.

“Let me go. You’re hurting me,” I lie.

His firm grip on my arm isn’t painful. It incites lust so potent that I get drunk off it, and it seems I am not the only one noticing this.

Andrik’s nostrils flare as his pace increases.

“I swear to God, Andrik, if you don’t let me go this instant, the first place I’ll visit when I return to Myasnikov is your overcompensating country estate.”

One second I’m being pulled into a poolside cabana.

The next I’m being bent over a double sun lounger and spanked.

“I swear to fucking God, Лисичка ,” Andrik parrots, mimicking my threat, “I don’t care if I have an entire kingdom coming after me—if you ever walk around how you are now, I will kill every man stupid enough to look.”

The thinness of my bikini does little to cool the fiery burn that spreads across my left butt cheek when he spanks me another three times.

“If you don’t believe me, ask the dancers at Le Rogue why their tips were sliced in half last night.”

“ If? ” I mock, too stubborn for my own good. “What happened to… there are no ifs ?”

Despite my best efforts, my last four words come out as moans. They can’t be helped. He doesn’t just spank my ass when I get sassy. He also spanks my pussy.

Heat hums through my veins when his fingertips hover over the opening of my vagina after its fifth spank. I’m wet and my clit is throbbing so unashamedly there’s no way Andrik can mistake how horny his punishment has made me.

I rise, attempting to free myself from the madness.

My inability to follow orders unleashes a beast. Andrik rakes his fingers up my nape and through my hair before he makes a fist.

One tug on my glossy locks steals my smarts in half a heartbeat, so I won’t mention how clouded my head becomes when he does another dozen while grinding his thick cock against my ass.

He’s hard as a steel rod. I don’t get to relish it. As quickly as he pressed against me, he inches back to marvel at the mess he made.

I’m drenched enough to shadow my bikini bottoms, and Andrik doubles their clinginess by spinning me around, spreading my thighs wide, and then dragging his nose down the thin strip outlining the lines of my pussy.

A moan vibrates my lips when he huskily says, “I’ve missed that smell.” He hooks his finger under the edge of my bikini before carefully peeling it back. “But not as much as I’ve missed your taste.”

“Andrik…” I sound desperate. Rightfully so. I am.

I want him to touch me. Everywhere.

And he picks the perfect place to start.

He drags his tongue up the seam of my pussy, his pace leisurely.

Ohh…

I vocalize my moan when his tongue rolls over my clit, doubling the shake of my thighs. He sucks the nervy bud into his mouth before flicking it over and over again.

And I love it.

Lick after lick, thrust after thrust, he throws my body into chaos until the pounding of my blood through my veins overtakes the moans ripping from my mouth.

He fucks me with his mouth until I come undone.

As I arch my back, embracing the orgasm scorching through me, Andrik continues to tongue my clit. He doesn’t care that there are hundreds of people mere feet from us or that we could be busted at any moment. He consumes me as if my pleasure is the only thing on his agenda today, sparking a guarantee of back-to-back orgasms.

Pleasure ripples through me as I rake my fingers through his hair to hold his mouth hostage to my pussy. My cruel tugs quicken his pace. He licks me faster before lowering a hand between my legs so he can give my pussy something to milk while my body ripples through an intense climax.

He pumps his fingers in and out of me while he stimulates my clit with his tongue, his teeth, and the tip of his nose. I try to choke back the moans rumbling up my throat, but his talents are too wondrous to ignore.

I moan his name with no care of who may hear it, and it drives Andrik wild.

As he stuffs his fingers in and out of me, he slides his eyes up to my face. I shudder under the intensity of his watch. The anger blistering from his narrowed gaze earlier is nowhere to be seen. There’s nothing but lust and admiration. And perhaps love.

My breath catches before my body goes lax. With bucking hips and the cry of a warrior, I orgasm again. It is long and tiring but mindboggling good.

I’m so out of it that the creak of the sun lounger under our combined weight is the first hint that our exchange is going further than it has in weeks. The head of Andrik’s cock rubbing against the cleft of my pussy is a close second.

He rubs his fat cock up and down, coating himself in my arousal, before he commences notching in the girthy head.

“Stop,” I murmur, rediscovering my voice.

I’m not ending this as per the concerned look stretching across Andrik’s deliriously handsome face as he glances down at me in shock. I am endeavoring to make sure no child is forced down the fatherless route Aleena and I endured during our childhood because our mother was in love with a married man.

“We need a condom.”

With a smirk that has me on the verge of climaxing again, Andrik shakes his head before he stuffs several inches of his big cock inside me. He doesn’t take me to the root, though the several inches he feeds inside feel fantastic.

As he flexes his cock, spiraling my mind more, he murmurs, “No, we don’t.”

“But… I started fertility medication.” I thrust my head side to side, slowing the roar of ecstasy surging through my body. “I could get pregnant. It is unlikely, but it is still a possibility.”

He cuts me off with a groan. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“You may not, but I do.”

I whimper desperately when he slowly pulls out. My pussy sucks at him, coercing him to stay like I’m not demanding the immediate removal of his cock until it is sheathed by a condom.

“That feels so good.”

With one hand, he tilts my hips high while the other presses low on my stomach. “Because there’s nothing between us.”

I throw my head back and moan when he rams back in deep.

I’m so full, but it feels amazing.

“There will never be anything between us again.”

He jerks his hips upward, brushing the head of his cock against my G-spot. My body wrenches with every perfect grind.

“Not a condom.”

Another body-tingling thrust that bounces my breasts out of my bikini top.

“Not an organization.”

Stars blur my vision as the truth in his eyes crests the wave in my stomach.

“Not a wife.” My eyes threaten to burst along with my heart when he grunts out, “ Nothing will ever come between us again. I promise you that.”

I slam my eyes shut as he nails me to the sun lounger with frantic pumps to ensure none of my tears escape. I’ll never forgive myself if I get emotional during sex.

Andrik coerces my focus back to him with a teasing roll of his thumb over my clit. He toys with the hardened bud while warping my mind with measured pumps of his thick cock.

His endeavor to unravel me is relentless. He takes everything I’m willing to give, and then some. He claims me. Dominates me. He makes me his.

Then, not long after I’ve surrendered to the fact that no one will ever have me like this again, I lose all sense of control.

I can’t stop coming. It isn’t back-to-back-to-back orgasms. It is one continuous climax that pulls Andrik into the madness with me.

He fucks me rougher. Harder. More aggressively, until he fully rams inside me and then groans through the release of his hot cum spurting against the walls of my pussy.