I’m spent. I don’t even know if my legs still work, and he chuckles as if reading my mind. He keeps me in his arms, my hands locked around his neck, his cock still buried deep inside me as he carries me out of the bathroom.
He sets me down on the bed and withdraws slowly, watching.
I feel his cum spill out of me, and he pushes it back inside with his fingers.
He withdraws them and presses them to my mouth. I taste us on his skin as he slowly pulls them free again and brings them to his lips.
Then he slides into bed beside me, pulling the covers over us. I end up with my head on his chest, following the lines of his tattoos with my fingers.
I don’t know how long we lie there in silence.
As my fingers continue their pattern, a thought occurs to me.
“You’re twenty five,” I say, looking up at him. “Why are you in my classes? Shouldn’t you have finished your degree by now?”
He gives me a knowing smile.
“For you.”
I narrow my eyes. “So you’re taking all my classes because you’re not actually here to study?”
I press a little harder, because I already know the answer.
He shrugs. “I’m here for you.”
“And the Ferrum Syndicate?” I ask quietly. “You expect me to believe this is only about me?”
“Believe it or not,” he replies evenly, “it is. Isaak has his own plans. I don’t care what they are.”
Fuck.
I knew there was more to them being here.
I turn my face away, but he catches my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“I would’ve come here with them or without them,” he says calmly. “I’m here for you. The first night I met you, I knew I wouldn’t let you go.”
I exhale slowly and change the subject. This isn’t new information.
At first, I thought he’d come to kill me. Then it became clear he was… a bit obsessed with me?
And whatever Isaak is planning, that’s between him and the cartel princess.
Not me.
“What’s your degree in?”
A slow smile plays at his mouth. “I also have a master’s.”
My brows lift. “In what, exactly?”
“Well,” he says mildly, “I’m Bratva. I didn’t need a degree.”
He pauses, watching me. “But as part of the Ferrum Syndicate, attendance at the academy was non-negotiable.”
“So you studied…?”
“Finance,” he replies without enthusiasm. “Corporate structures. Laundering laws. The sort of crap that keeps money moving and governments confused.”
