~ANASTASIA VISHNEV~
"Anastasia! Anastasia! Wake up!"
I gradually open my eyes to the familiar voice of my best friend. Squinting against the bright light streaming through the window, I sit up on the bed. A throbbing sensation in my head prompts me to place a hand on my forehead. My gaze focuses on her, standing in front of the bed with hands on her hips.
"What the fuck girl?!" She growls at me, anger evident in her voice. Why is she so upset? I survey the room, furrowing my brows in confusion. Where am I? Shifting in the bed, I feel the warmth of my skin against itself and take a moment to inspect my body. Lifting the blanket, I glance down, eyes widening at the realization of my nakedness. What in the world happened? I turn to Mila.
"What happened? Where am I?" I ask, perplexed.
She scoffs, "Are you seriously asking me that? The guy you spent the night with called me with your phone, gave me this address, and provided the room number, instructing me to come get you."
Wait, what?
I frantically search for my clothes, but they are nowhere to be found.
"Looking for this?" She holds up my dress, waving it in the air.
"Wow, Ana, I know I told you to let loose and have fun, but did you have to disappear without telling me? With a total stranger who took advantage of you? I thought maybe you got hurt from the gunshots in the auction room, and I was panicking!"
Took advantage of me? I don't know, but for some reason, I don't think that's the right word. And gunshots? What the hell happened last night? Why can't I recall anything?
"I... I can't remember anything."
"Of course, you won't remember anything, Ana, because you were drunk. I clearly asked Christian to look after you; I should know he's an idiot. Come on, go and take a shower, and let's leave here. I've gotten 28 missed calls from your brother and Mama already."
I search around the bed and find my phone on the table beside it. I try to reach for it, but Mila walks over and gets it for me instead.
"Thank you," I smile at her before opening my phone. She sits down on the bed beside me while I scroll through my phone. I sigh at the many missed calls from my family; I've only been gone for one night, and they want to blow up my phones with calls when they are also the ones sending me off to some old man.
I toss my phone onto the bed, wearing a frown. Glancing to the opposite side, my eyes land on a tray containing a cup and a card.
"What's that?" I ask
"Don't know, the guy you spent the night with could have left it," Mila replies.
I reach for the card and read it.
LUCA.
That's the only thing that was written and I only grow more confused.
"Did you see his face?" I press further as I place the card on the bed beside me.
"No, I didn't. He was already gone when I got here. I wonder how he knew my name," Mila muses.
I turn sharply to her, "He knew your name?"
She nods, "Yes, he called me by my name. He was like, 'Come to The Star's hotel to get your friend, Mila. She's sleeping though, so be careful not to wake her up,'" Mila recounts, smiling widely. "One would think he was your boyfriend, Ana; he sounded so romantic, and his voice was really nice."
How is that possible? I did not even save Mila's name on my phone as 'Mila' but rather 'My munchkin.' So how did he know who to call?
"Maybe I had told him to call you," I shrug. Just as I attempt to move from the bed, I start to recollect when Christian left me at the bar to meet some woman after Mila went to the restroom. After Christian left, I had drunkenly left the bar and roamed the hall until I found him – the man with the beautifully dangerous face...
~FLASHBACK~
"You're drunk, red-haired. You wouldn't want to regret anything in the morning, so it's best you turn around and leave this bathroom now," he says, his eyes fixed on mine. Whether it's the alcohol or not, I grow more confident, encircling my hand around his waist and pressing my body against his. My touch brushes against his dick, and he inhales sharply, indicating my effect on him.
He grabs my hands, pulling them away. "I don't mind being with you, red-haired, but I've never been with a drunk woman. Both parties have to be fully aware, you know."
I smile at him. "I appreciate that about you, but who says you'd be taking advantage of me?"
"You won't recall anything tomorrow," he points out.
I shrug, "I don't need to. At least I wasn't even drunk when I saw you earlier at the club when you saved me from that man. I clearly saw your beautiful face," I say, smiling. Despite my intoxication, I remain acutely aware of every word coming out of my mouth.
"I'm not so beautiful, red-haired. Trust me, I'm far from that. And I did not save you; I simply had business to settle with that man."
"You did save me regardless, and I searched for you everywhere, but you just disappeared," I pout. "I was left to drink on my own, and when I roamed about again, I saw you, still looking beautiful." I smile at him.
He slowly lets go of my hands, and I wrap them around his waist again. "You know..." I gulp hard. "I'm getting married in two days' time. My papa got into some huge debt, and he wants to use me as the settlement." Tears form in my eyes. "He wants me to marry a damn old man, an old, ugly-looking man!"
"Sounds like you are more worried about his age and face than the fact that you're being forced to marry him," he observes, his eyes not leaving mine.
I shake my head, "Both of them. I hate the fact that I'm being forced, but I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if he was... if he was beautiful like you," I say, my eyes resting on his face. How can a man look so beautiful yet feels dangerous at the same time? Something about him is cold, but his beauty seems to conceal it well.
He moves a strand of my hair behind my ear. "So you're saying you wouldn't be so sad if he was young and good-looking?"
I nod, "I wouldn't feel as sad, I suppose. Right now, I simply crave a distraction, a sweet diversion, even if only for tonight."
"You don't even know me, red-haired. I don't reside in Russia, and I'm not into Russian women."
I pause at his words, then sigh before asking, "Why? Why do you not fancy Russian women?"
"That's too personal to share with you, red-haired..." His hands drift to my waist, holding me there. "You're not exactly my type, but I do find you attractive. Your red hair and beautiful eyes are really captivating."
"So, you see, we're on the same page then. You'll return to where you actually reside, and I'll get married; we won't have any reason to meet again."
"Yes, we won't," he agrees.
His hair falls over his face, and he slowly moves it back into place, my face inches away from his lips. "Kiss me, then."
He wordlessly seizes the nape of my neck, bringing my lips to his. The kiss is intense, raw, and fast. I kiss him back with same pace, my nails digging into his back. Lifting me, he effortlessly wraps my legs around his waist, trailing soft kisses down my neck. Exiting the bathtub, hands gripping my ass, he strides into the bedroom, gently placing me on the bed and looming over me, his hands pressing above my head.
He grins at me and slides down. My chest rises and falls with sharp breaths as he removes the straps off my shoulders and tugging my dress down to my waist. Arching my back, I assist its complete removal. He rains soft kisses on my collarbone as he exposes my breasts, capturing a nipple in his mouth, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from me.
Continuing his descent, he leaves a trail of kisses above my panties. Using his thumb, he gradually pulls down my panties, peppering wet kisses against my skin, inducing shivers and causing me to squeeze my legs together.
With a swift motion, he discards my panties, and his lips make contact with my clit. My hips involuntarily buck, and a soft moan escapes my lips.
His tongue skillfully works against my clit, smoothly sliding into my already wet pussy. A cry escapes my lips as I push my hips further into his face. Placing his hand on my stomach, he pulls me down, maintaining his fervent assault in and out of my pussy. Gripping the sheets, I emit soft whimpers, eyes tightly shut. Introducing a finger, he elicits deeper moans from me as pleasure builds within me like a tornado. A gentle pull on my pussy propels me into a crashing orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of my head. Oh my God.
Moving up to face me, he lowers himself, capturing my lips as he slides into me, filling me with his dick. A profound moan resonates from me, met with his groan. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to adjust to his size, and he remains still. Opening my eyes, I release a shaky breath.
"Are you okay?" he asks, scrutinizing my face.
I gulp and nod, "Yes, I'm okay, please don't stop."
Taking that as approval, he begins to move in and out of my pussy. Biting my lower lip hard in an attempt to stifle my increasingly impossible moans, my fingers dig into his back, and I fear I might leave him with scratches from my nails.
"Mhmm," I moan, unable to contain the pleasure.
He attends to my breasts, skillfully kneading and sucking my nipples simultaneously as he intensifies his pace. I reach for his face, guiding it toward mine before going for a heated kiss. The thrusts become faster and harder, matching the rhythm of our fervent kiss. Sensing the pleasure building up, I dig my fingers into his back, and white lights shoot behind my eyes as I climax, leaving me breathless.
Before I can even come down from my climax, he flips me onto my stomach and enters me from behind, his lips grazing my ear. Gently moving my hair away from my back, he plants soft kisses there.
"You... You didn't tell me your name," I manage to say as he thrusts into me.
"You didn't ask, beautiful." he whispers into my ear before nibbling it softly.
"Tell me?" I urge him.
"I will." But he doesn't and just fucks me harder.
XOXO