Prologue
A FEW YEARS AGO...
Tatiana laughed as she danced the night away with a total stranger. The man looked so rugged and fine, though. Late twenties to early thirties, perhaps? Literally tall, dark, and handsome. Oh, irritatingly handsome. And he has dance moves that can make any woman feel aroused. As she danced provocatively with the stranger, she felt heat creeping throughout her body. She wasn’t familiar with the song, but she heard lyrics like asking if he could sex the lady.
Tatiana wore a red ruffled dress with two-way split legs, and every dance move exposed her creamy thighs. She had never danced that wild before, and it felt liberating.
“You smell really nice,” she whispered to her dance partner when they faced each other. He smelled fresh and playful but also warm and intense. “Quite an intriguing scent,” she would say—a perfect night’s allurement.
“And you’re so hot,” he whispered back, gripping one mound of her ass. He placed one thigh between her legs, and she sensuously humped the hard muscle. That brought her an abundance of hot pleasure.
The dance floor darkened, leaving only flashing lights, and the fog machine released red smoke. One of the man’s hands smoothly caressed her neck, and she looked up at him. He slightly leaned down, looking at her waiting mouth. He looked like he was wondering about different things to do with it, but for now, he might settle for a kiss. And she welcomed it with no reservation.
His kiss was tentative at first, but tasty and enticing. She could tell he was an expert kisser and had probably kissed hundreds of women already. A perverted curiosity dawned on her—what else did he do to those women? She could taste liquor and mint from his mouth, and it was exhilarating. She opened her mouth to let his tongue explore inside.
Tatiana dug her fingers into his nape. She wanted more of this kiss, more of this heat. She needed to let him know...
“S-shit,” she heard him say when she pressed her body closer to his. She knew that the man was being turned on, too. She could feel a growing bulge in his crotch, and his body was burning like hers. That only aroused her more. She felt like she lost control of her body as it moved on its own, grinding her pelvis against his. Oh, my. She liked the feverish sensation. She felt so alive. Her blood was rushing through her veins, and her skin was hot to the touch.
The man must have sensed her need. Unlike him, she couldn’t suppress her desire for release at that moment. Tatiana felt the man’s hand creeping inside the right slit of her dress. She gasped when he found her mound. She looked up at him and gave him a nod, and then he cupped her soft flesh. She moaned when his hand moved there again. Now he was fondling her pussy, pushing aside the part of her panties that covered her hole. She bit her lip when she felt him playing with her clitoris; he was sensually thumbing it. She trembled helplessly when he began to swipe his fingers over her drenched cleft.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned in her ear, biting the lower lobe. He sounded so sexy that it made her burn hotter. He then positioned the tip of his finger on her waiting hole, wiggling it at her entrance.
“Yes, oh, please. Yes,” Tatiana pleaded. She gasped loudly when he pushed one finger inside her cunt. She could feel her internal muscles clutching around the long, fat digit. She also felt herself getting wetter there.
When she looked up at the man again, he was waiting for her command.
“Do it,” she firmly told him.
A sly grin flashed on his handsome face before he started finger-banging her. Fast. Relentless.
“O-oh, God,” Tatiana whimpered. “This feels so good.”
She buried her face in his neck when he added another digit. She felt like combusting any minute now. She wanted to panic, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop.
“You’re going to make me come—”
“Isn’t that the idea?” He teased her, speeding up his finger thrusts. “You want it, right? Let me hear you say you want it.”
“I want it.” She didn’t stutter. She would entrust everything to the man. There was only one thing she wanted to achieve now. And she would get it from him.
“Say it again,” he demanded. His voice alone could make her reach orgasm.
“I fucking want it, Mister. Make me cum, please?” Tatiana pleaded.
“You got it.” The man’s grin widened; he was clearly thrilled by her dirty talk.
Never in her life had she imagined being finger-fucked in the middle of the dance floor, but here she was, enjoying the hell out of it.
“More,” she hissed, pumping against the assaulting digits. “Mmm, yes... Faster!” Holy crap. She was coming. Hard. “I... I’m coming, ooh.”
“That’s it, come to me, baby. Aah, fuck. Your pussy feels so damn good.”
She couldn’t stop herself from screaming when she climaxed. She didn’t even notice if anyone else heard because her scream coincided with the very loud DJ airhorn.
It was obscene and vulgar. And she was not really the type who could do something like that. But she did it, and it was easier than she thought. Tatiana burned in the midst of strangers, loud music, and smoky air.
The man hugged her as she came down from her peak. He was holding her tightly, possessively, and protectively. She was the first to pull away from him.
“I have to go to the restroom,” she said, excusing herself.
“Okay.”
She quickly went to the ladies’ room and cleaned herself up. Her panties were soaking wet, and her fem juice dripped down her thighs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, flushed red as she washed her hands. Her hair was a mess, and her lipstick was ruined. She looked strangely sexy like that, though. And wild. She smiled to herself. She was liking that new image.
When Tatiana came out of the restroom, she saw her dance partner at the bar counter. It seemed like he was waiting for her there because he looked in her direction. He gave her a slight wave, smiling. She waved back.
The man was really handsome, with a well-defined jawline, a high-bridged nose, and dark, searing eyes. The way his man bun was tied was also sexy. She usually didn’t find long-haired men attractive, but this stranger had a unique pull on her. He’s got a striking presence, hunky and confident.
He helped her onto the barstool. When the bartender approached them, he ordered two cups of coffee.
Tatiana looked at him with a frown. “You know, I’m not drunk.”
He smirked. “Right.”
“You’re weird.”
“I know what you’re doing, Miss,” he said seriously. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t sleep with brokenhearted girls.”
“How—How did you know—”
“I know that look. Seen it so many times before. A beautiful woman who came to the club alone, not used to alcohol, wearing clothes she wasn’t accustomed to.”
Okay, her unfamiliarity with alcoholic drinks was indeed obvious because she couldn’t hide the disgust on her face while drinking alone earlier. She saw him watching her from his table before they ended up on the dance floor. But how did he know she didn’t usually wear revealing clothes? Did she look awkward, or did they not suit her?
“Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful and hot, and that dress looks fantastic on you. It’s just...”
“I’m not your type. Got it.” Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask for her name.
“It’s not like that at all.” The man scratched the back of his neck. Now, he looked adorable and boyish. “I’ve done this before—many, many times, believe it or not. I just got sick of the drama, to be honest.”
“Drama?” Tatiana laughed. “I’m done with the drama, don’t worry.”
When their coffee was placed on the counter, she immediately took a sip from her cup.
“I can take you home,” the man offered.
“I live an hour away from here.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ll stay in a hotel. Don’t worry about me.” She quickly finished her coffee while the man kept glancing at her. So he was that type of man, not proficient at conversation. He was probably used to just picking up women at the club, one-night-stand stuff. And she understood his aversion to brokenhearted women, those who wanted to vent their frustrations by acting wild.
A classic romance trope, really. How many books had she read where the hero and heroine met in a bar? The woman was drunk because she was brokenhearted; something had happened between her and the man. And it would lead to a happy ending, of course. But life was not like the books; she had already proven that. In fact, she hadn’t opened any romance stories in a long time. She used to love them; they used to give her not just entertainment but hope for a happy ending of her own. But her happy ending in love turned out to be a long shot.
Tatiana got down from the stool. “It’s nice meeting you here,” she said to the man with a smile. She also didn’t bother finding out his name. What for?
“Nice meeting you, too.” She didn’t pull away when he kissed her cheek. “Who broke your heart?” he then asked before she could get far from him.
“My husband,” she answered without hesitation.
The man was slightly taken aback. “You’re married?”
Tatiana turned her back and walked away. “Widowed.”
