“No.” The smallest smile appeared, and I experienced the weird urge to kiss it off her mouth. I found the compulsion so annoying my grasp on her hair tightened, roughly tugging her head back farther. She exhaled. “Fine.” Feeling like I needed to make myself crystal clear, I said, “I’m not going to fuck you slow and sweet.” “Bummer.” She pouted. “I thought I was in for something really romantic here.” I was too hard to be amused by her sarcasm. “Tt’ll mean nothing to me afterward.” “God, stop talking,” she said with frustration. “I’m not that delicate. Just fuck me like you would Nadia.” My entire body quieted. The fact that shit just came out of her mouth sent a wave of fury down my spine. In a flash, I threw her onto her hands and knees, yanked her head back by her hair, and pressed my hard cock against her ass. “This?” I growled. “This is how you want me to fuck you?” She panted, not resisting the hold I had on her hair, before saying harshly, “As long as it lasts longer than two seconds this time.” I was now more pissed than I was hard. And it had nothing to do with her revoking my man card. Mila didn’t seem to give a shit if I fucked her like anyone else, while I felt like setting Moscow on fire at just the idea she was imagining someone other than me. When I released my grip on her hair, she exhaled, her head falling forward. “I don’t want to hear that name on your lips ever again.” “Why not?” “Because I fucking said so.” Because I didn’t like it. If she wanted it just like Nadia, she should have brought another woman in with her. And, oddly enough, I didn’t want anyone else’s hands on Mila—females included. She glanced at me over her shoulder, and the soft look in her eyes, unsure but hot, rushed all my attention to my dick pressed against her ass. The anger dissolved, leaving my body tight and throbbing with suppressed lust.