Sociopath's Revenge (21 page)

"So beautiful," I whispered, as she laced her hands in my hair, crushing our mouths more. My hands traveled up to her full tits with their perky nipples. I took them between my fingers, rolled, and then pinched them enough to create friction but not enough to hurt. She whimpered into the kiss, pressing against my erection firmly. Suddenly, an overwhelming desire to taste her powered through me. I released her mouth, and she groaned in protest, but that was quickly replaced with one more moan when I lifted her shirt, exposing her round pink nipples. I leaned down and took one pointed peak in my mouth. I groaned at her taste, as my fingers played with the other. God, was that how heaven felt? She smelled of lavender and mint, something I always associated only with her. Sapphire responded instantly, attuned to my every touch, and I wanted more. I shifted to her other breast, and the whole time, she whimpered and raised her hips slightly, trying to close her thighs around me.

"Stop," I growled and let go of her breasts. "When you are with me, I'm the one who gives you pleasure and decides when you can come." I know my voice sounded harsh, but I couldn't help it. "Do you understand?' She nodded and put her hands on the counter behind her as her beautiful blue eyes watched me with desire, lust, and love.

She was the only person on the planet who could disarm me with just one look, one touch, one breath. My eyes studied her body. Her shirt was pushed up to her neck, and her sorry excuse for shorts exposed her thighs. I was dying to have those beautiful legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust home.

"Please," she whimpered. I put my hands on her thighs and lightly caressed them, so it would feel like a feather's touch. "Please what?"

"Please do something," she replied, almost making me smile. My little demanding creature.

"Who are you asking to touch you, Sapphire?' I asked huskily and nipped her lips, traced my tongue around them, but leaned back when she tried to catch my mouth for one more kiss.

"You." She moaned again when I sank to my knees and started to put slow, small kisses on her stomach, always moving lower. I licked her belly button, which earned me yet another cry.

"Me who? Whose head is between your thighs?" I lifted her ass a little and lowered the waistband of her shorts to discover she had gone commando. Didn't expect that from my girl. New York sure changed her dress habits.

I had quite the frontal view of what I wanted. Her pussy bare and sleek to the touch.

"Yours."

I licked slowly with my tongue from her belly button to the top of her opening. She smelled musky, and my mouth watered at the prospect of tasting her. I breathed slightly on her pussy, and it twitched.

"Who?" I asked again, stilled my movements, and looked up. Her head was thrown backward; she breathed heavily, her nipples hard and swollen from my mouth. Her hands supported her back. She finally glanced down at me and licked her lips, and I wanted to kiss them all over again.

"You, Damian, you are the one who is touching me."

I growled, satisfied with her answer, and leaned down.

With my thumbs, I opened up her pussy for my probing tongue. Her hips came up, but I grounded her with one of my hands on her stomach and whispered against her flesh. "Keep your fist in your mouth; I don't want anyone to hear your screams. They're meant only for my ears." She nodded, and I went down on her again. I licked around her clit, then moved lower, put my tongue inside her and then back up again. She tasted amazing, like bittersweet honey. I could have stayed on my knees forever. She started to push her hips back against my face slowly in a rhythm while putting one of her hands on my head, pressing me more firmly. If she wanted to get off on my face, who was I to argue?

I knew she wanted me to focus on her clit, but I wasn't giving it to her. Instead, I kept probing her and then put one of my fingers inside.

"Please let me." I knew she was asking me to let her come. And whatever she asked, she got. Keeping my finger inside her, I moved up slightly and sucked hard on her clit, and that was all it took for her to raise her hips, and even though she tried to hide it, her cry was loud enough for me to hear. I looked up to the sight I would never forget. I'd take it to my grave.

My girl was in the haze of her pleasure with satisfied eyes and an open mouth, trying to catch her breath after the pleasure I had given her. I was the only one who made her feel that way, no one else. Gently licking her folds one last time, I rose and kissed her hard on the mouth. She was numb in my arms, clearly yet to come down from her high, but her tongue was cooperating with mine. I knew my lips still held the taste of her, but it didn't seem to bother her. In fact, she groaned and deepened the kiss, sucking on my tongue.

I was painfully aware of my dick hurting behind my pants. I adjusted her shirt and shorts, then moved my lips to her neck. I placed gentle kisses there while she played with my hair. As much as I wanted to fuck her—no, not fuck her, make love to her—right then, it wasn't an option. It was about her getting off. "Nice way of saying bye," she murmured, and we both burst out laughing.

New York, New York.

Massive doors opened in front of me, although I hadn't missed the confused and odd looks Don's guards were sending my way. Without comment, I entered the office where a lonely man sat at a poker table shuffling a deck of cards, a cigar between his fingers.

"Have to say I was intrigued when the head of the Russian Mob family asked permission to enter my city, and then for a private meeting. Even the late Vasya, may his soul rest in peace, never had such nerve." He had a gun on his left side and a glass of whiskey on his right. After one more inhale on his cigar, he raised his eyes to me. They widened in shock for a second, and then his face went completely blank. "I'll be fucking damned," he murmured, and then motioned for me to sit opposite him.

Once I rested my back on the chair, he raised his brows. Being Pakhan myself, I understood what he waited for. "I'm here to talk about your daughter." I saw no point in skirting the issue and decided to cut to the chase. I had no time for useless word games. Since he stayed silent and gave me no reaction whatsoever, I continued with my speech, "Her kidnappers will be taken care of by me personally."

Don picked up his glass, sipped, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his mouth. "I see," he replied. "So you came here to inform me about your intentions? Basically letting me know you'll find my baby girl, but then you'll take her away anyway?" Despite his smiles, his eyes stayed focused and sharp on me.

I placed my elbows on the table, pushed myself forward, and added, "She'll be mine, but she was yours first, right? I wouldn't keep her from you."

At this, he chuckled humorlessly and then threw away the glass he held. It shattered into tiny little pieces, leaving a brown stain on the wall.

"Boy, you have a lot of nerve coming here with demands." It didn't escape my notice he hadn't reached for his gun yet, so my body stayed relaxed.

"I do. Would you want someone else for her?"

He raised his brows in disbelief. "Sure as fuck not a Russian mob boss. Do you even understand how ridiculous this visit and conversation is? You won't find my daughter, so it's a moot point." He waved his hand dismissively. "Leave, and never approach me about this again."

His refusal to accept me as his daughter's future didn't really bother or surprise me, because honestly, what father would? I expected a lot of fighting, threats, and a desperate father grasping for straws of information regarding her whereabouts.

Never once did he ask me where she was.

Never once did he ask me how I even knew about her.

Never once did anything shift in his expression, except his smile and the initial shock.

And it only meant one thing.

My brother got here first.

"Damian," I said quietly, and his head jerked and shifted toward me from the papers. "Damian has her, doesn't he? That's why you are so calm about this, didn't threaten to gut me for thinking about Rosa. You've met my brother."

I couldn't fucking believe this! If he had her, Connor knew about it and never saw the need to warn me in advance that we had a female on board.

"I didn't know he had a twin." He leaned his head to the side, studying me. "He doesn't know you are alive. He thinks he lost you all those years ago."

My eyes narrowed as my hands fisted. Had Damian spread the stories of our childhood with everyone now? According to me, the past was so dirty and painful it absolutely had to stay hidden.

"Don't talk about things you cannot possibly understand." My voice filled with warning surprised him. "Why does he have her?"

He huffed in annoyance and anger. "Because only he can protect her right now." Every possessive instinct in me rebelled at the idea of my Rosa finding protection with someone else. I fucking tried to calm the beast, but that was impossible considering his next words. "I think she has some kind of hero worship over him. Maybe even a crush."

She had fucking what? Rosa could be in love with Damian, my brother with whom I shared a face?

Emmanuelle laughed. "Apparently that bothers you. Don't you want to claim her anymore?" he asked mockingly.

Not want her? She was mine from the first glance.

Maybe she had a crush on Damian or not; it didn't matter because my brother was just like me. He would never cheat on his woman. Sapphire was it for him.

Like Mom was for Dad.

Rosa will quickly snap out of her little crush if she has one and fall irrevocably in love with me.

If Sapphire fell in love with Sociopath, Rosa could do it with Pakhan. My eyes glassed at the idea of how I could convince her, how I could have her body completely in my control.

Emmanuelle growled, "Stop picturing my daughter naked." Without responding to his order—because not fucking happening—I grabbed the deck of cards and raised it.

"Poker game. If I win, you'll give me permission to be with her, or at least have a chance to win her heart."

"And if you lose?"

"I will stay away from her and forget she exists."

He sat more comfortably on his chair, lit his cigar, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "No one has won a poker game against me for over twenty years."

I gave him my most dangerous smile as my hands placed the cards in front of us, arranging them according to the rules of the game. "You've never played with me."

He picked them up and, for the first time, his grin reached his eyes. "Had you not come for my daughter, I might have actually liked you for your cockiness."

"Can't really say the same for you."

He chuckled, and for the next two hours, we played the most important game of my life.

"Connor, are you testing my patience?" I asked calmly, barely restraining myself from choking him, a constant desire in his presence as I discovered over the last three years.

"Damian, you can't do whatever the fuck you please wherever you go. You killed almost an entire organization again, thankfully without leaving any notes. You need to stop or we'll never catch them," he shouted, pacing Luke's office.

"Stop? Are you out of your fucking mind? They rape innocent kids!" His face transformed to anger as he stopped and his hands fisted at his sides. "I know that. Trust me, some of the shit I see on the job would make even you look like a saint." His words didn't explain his behavior to me at all.

"So if you know as you claim, why do you want me to stop?"

"Because, despite your careful moves, S feels something is up and hasn't lost his focus. We need him to become careless, and he won't unless you stop killing his people."

"Allowing men to torture and kill innocent kids?" My voice turned dangerously low, almost daring him to admit the truth, and his eyes narrowed.

"Don't make me the villain here."

"If something barks like a dog—"

He stepped forward, ready to deliver a blow when we stopped short at Luke's deadly voice. "You better not get into another fight, boys. Wouldn't really like kicking your asses again." The old man entered the office and sat on his worn-out black chair, and then he shifted his eyes from me to Connor. "The FBI agent here is right. We won't catch him until he is no longer on guard." Before I could add something, he continued, "But Sociopath here is right too. Allowing them to mistreat kids under our watch is unacceptable." Connor ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the blond strands.