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the brakes. "No."
    He leveled a look my way. "Don't make me beg, Bianca." Massaging my breast, he murmured, "I want you, and I've waited so long."
    Something in his voice piqued my interest. "When was the last time you went out on a date, Sergei?"
    He held my gaze. "I haven't been with another woman since a week before I met you."
    My lips parted with shock. "Are you serious?"
    He brushed his knuckles down my cheek. "After I saw you that first time in December, I knew no other woman would ever come close. It seemed pointless to waste my time with others when all I wanted was you."
    His sincerity stunned me. Guilt rocked me. "Are you mad at me?"
    His brow creased. "For what, milaya moya ?"
    "Dating other guys while you were sitting on the sidelines," I explained nervously.
    He wrapped a few strands of my hair around his finger. "I won't sit here and lie to you. I didn't like seeing you with those other men." He hesitated. "I was relieved you didn't bring anyone tonight—but that doesn't mean I'm mad at you. Annoyed, maybe," he said with a smile. "But never mad."
    I captured his mouth in a lingering kiss. "For what it's worth, I haven't been intimate with anyone since Vivian's wedding." Deciding to be totally honest, I admitted, "No other man has made me feel even a tenth of what you've made me feel so far tonight."
    "It's early yet, Bianca." He teased his mouth against mine. "I have so much more to show you."
    Tapping my finger to his nose, I shook my head. "You still can't make love to me."
    "But—"
    "I don't have any protection in the house. Unless you have something tucked away in your tuxedo pants…"
    "I don't." Then, with a careless shrug, he said, "What I really want to do to you doesn't require protection."
    My core clenched with anticipation. "And what's that?"
    "You'll see. Now—you decide. Here on the ottoman or on the bed?"
    "I guess that depends on what you have in mind."
    "First, I'm going to tear this off you." He gripped the front of my nightgown. "Then I'm going to use my mouth to trace every last inch of you." His hand slipped between my thighs so he could cup my sex. "I'm going to spend most of the night with my tongue right here."
    Oh. Sweet. Jesus.
    A wicked flare scorched me when I imagined everything he had described. Shaking inside and dry-mouthed, I managed a whispered response. "We should probably move this to the bed."
    "Good choice. But first…" Fisting the front of my nightgown, he jerked hard on the delicate fabric, shredding the lace and silk blend in his fearsome hands. His alpha display of strength left me momentarily speechless.
    When I recovered from the shock of having my clothes ripped off of me, I sputtered, "Sergei, you can't just tear my clothes!"
    "I'll buy you some more." He said it as if that was the only issue at play here and brushed the ruined gown back from my body to see my bare breasts. His hands moved to my panties but I clasped his wrists to stop him.
    "Don't even think about it."
    "Then stand up and strip for me." He was dead serious. "Now."
    I started to tell him off…but there was something incredibly arousing about the idea of it. On limbs as shaky as a newborn colt, I slipped off his lap and stood in front of him.
    "On the ottoman," he ordered and leaned back in the chair.
    No man had ever had the stones to give me an order. Even as a younger woman, I'd always been the bossy, intimidating and totally in control girl. Sergei seemed to be attracted to those qualities in me, but I suspected that here, in the bedroom, he wanted to be the one giving orders and driving the action.
    My courage bolstered by the lust flashing in his eyes, I stepped onto the ottoman. Standing up here, I had a clear view of the impossibly huge hard-on tenting the towel. Holy. Hell. From what I could tell, his cock looked like it ran half the length of his thigh. Apparently he was really big all over.
    He ran his hand along the outline of his erection. "Show me, Bianca."
    My belly flip-flopped,