Before I can change my mind, I do something. Something a little bold and a little stupid. Okay, alotstupid.
I stop fighting with the zipper and let the dress pool at my feet.
If Petyr’s pupils were wide before, there’s nothing left around them now.
The mirror returns me a visual of what he’s seeing: myself, in a pair of feet-killing heels and all my quasi-naked glory, with only a flimsy set of black, lacy lingerie to cover me up.
“Blyat’.” He licks his lips. “Come here.”
My feet start moving on their own. One step, then two—all the room there was between us.
When his hand grabs the back of my neck, I already know what’s going to happen, but it scorches me anyway.
Petyr’s kiss is liquid fire. It pours down my throat, licks into my mouth, leaves me no escape. I find myself moaning in it, forgetting all about the shopping attendant just outside.
“Turn around,” he commands.
I obey without thinking. I don’t know how he does it. Something about that husky voice of his, maybe. When Petyr speaks, it’s hard to give him anything short of exactly what he wants.
He presses me against the wall-mirror. My hands plant on the glass. I can see my breath mist it up, but not enough to cover everything happening in front of it.
Like Petyr slipping a hand into my panties.
I gasp. “P-Petyr…”
“You have no idea, do you?” He licks up my neck, nips my earlobe between his teeth. “No fucking clue what you do to me.”
His free hand cups my breast. The thin lace really isn’t doing me any favors. I try to swallow back my moans, but Petyr’s mouth keeps nipping at every sensitive place on my neck, and it’s really hard to stay quiet.
“Don’t do that,” he rumbles. “Let me hear you.”
“T-The people outside?—”
“They won’t do shit.” He sucks a bruise into my pulse point, dragging more moans out of me. “They know who I am.”
His fingers start moving faster in my panties. I find myself hypnotized by it. Our reflections in the mirror hide nothing.
“Look.” He forces my head down. “Look how wet you are for me.”
Embarrassingly, he’s not wrong. These panties areruined. But I find that I care less and less the more Petyr’s rough fingers slide into me.
I’m too far gone to care about anything.
“Petyr,” I gasp, mesmerized by the obscene movements in the mirror. “Please?—”
“‘Please’ what?”
“Let me cum,” I whine.
His stubble brushes the shell of my ear. “You’ve cum every time we’ve been together. Me? Not once. You think that’s fair?”
“That’s your own fault!”
“Maybe,” he whispers as he kisses languidly up the side of my throat, “I think it’s time I stopped spoiling you so much,moya zhena.”
My wife.My hand flies to his arm, nails digging in.
He brings me right to the edge. I can taste it, can feel my muscles tighten with that sweet, sweet pressure before release. I roll my hips, push myself against his hand?—
