“Slow,” I instruct. “Don’t rush things that matter.”
She hesitates, then moves her fingers, curling them into the fabric of her robe. I have to lock my jaw to keep from leaning forward. The sight of her obeying me, following my direction while pretending she isn’t, sends a sharp pulse of heat through me again.
The tie comes undone. The robe falls away. Her full and heavy breasts spill out, and her nipples are already peaked despite the summer heat.
I say nothing for a long moment, letting the tension stretch until it hums.
“Look at you,” I say. “Still pretending you don’t affect anyone.”
Her breathing grows uneven.
“You think the men at The Foundry didn’t imagine this?” I continue, my voice low and deliberate. “You think they didn’t wonder what you’d look like if you shimmied out of those little skirts?”
Her head snaps up, eyes blazing. “Don’t.”
Jealousy burns hot and immediate, ugly and honest, and I do not bother hiding it. “They don’t get this,” I say. “They don’t get to see you like this. That belongs to me.”
She makes a small sound, torn between outrage and something else entirely.
My control tightens dangerously.
“Then listen to me,” I say, forcing steadiness back into my voice. “Every sensation. Every reaction. You don’t hide from it.”
I remain where I am, hands clenched by my thighs, the restraint costing me more with every breath.
“Take off the rest.”
Alyona moves quickly now, shucking off the robe and breathing fast. Arousal roils through me at the realization that she’s turned on just bythis.Sweet little virgin. Imagine what I could do.
Focusing on the present, a smirk uncoils as she presses her thighs together. Hiding her pussy from me even as her breasts heave, and her skin rises with goosebumps.
“Get on the bed. No, get further back on the bed. No. Further.”
Finally, she’s where I want her—lying back, legs still pressed together, naked on the made bed. A lamp on the nightstand casts warm light over her skin. Aly quivers, clearly unsure what to dowith her hands. With knitted brows, she looks up at me with wide eyes.
Almost trusting.
But not quite.
“You’re going to do what I say.” I move to the side of the bed so I can see her better. I reach out, deftly grasping the chair that looks out the window over my property, and it scrapes loudly across the floorboards. Aly flinches as I lower myself into it, trying not to rub my greedy hands on my legs in anticipation.
“Do you understand?”
She nods slowly. Unsure.
“First, I want you to touch your breasts.”
Her hands hesitate, then ghost up to her full chest, cupping her breasts. They spill over her palms, dark pink nipples making my mouth water. “Play with yourself. Pinch your nipples.”
She does, but so lightly that she only bites her lip.
“Harder.”
A sound of discomfort slips out. She’s in her head too much. She’s frowning, and not really looking atmebut at my chest.
“No, not like that.I want it to hurt.”
The next time she rolls the hard buds between her fingers, Aly cries out. The sound is part pleasure, part pain, and she rises off the bed in surprise.
