When he reemerged, his hair was wet, and water droplets slid down the hard planes of his chest and down his bare abdomen. His eyes were sobered now, and he strolled over without a word, sinking to his knees.
“You can’t wear shoes in the house,” he murmured, and ran his hand up my ankle. The other raised my foot and eased the stiletto up against his bent knee with unnerving gentleness so unlike the violence just moments ago.
I shivered as he brushed his fingers up my nylons and back to the straps. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m sorry I scared you, Kotik,” he said, unhooking the clasp with one hand as the other held my ankle. “I wanted you to see that I am always going to deliver on my promises. What happened to you will never, ever happen again.”
I blinked, weakly attempted to move my foot away from him, and gave up when he wouldn’t let me. I did not try very hard.
“What… what is going to happen to the other one? Baranov?”
“The policeman?” He slid the heel off, fingers lingering briefly to massage the arch. “I have him, but you won’t be there.” His gaze traveled up my legs and across my dress, until it met mine. He held it as he lifted my left foot. “Unless you wish to.”
I shook my head.
The light tugging sensation of his fingers on my tights was dizzying.
He tossed the stiletto to the side, rubbing my foot with a firm roll of his thumbs. Holding it up, he kissed the top, then slowly placed another kiss on my ankle, watching as my mouth parted. I scooted back on the bed, and his unhurried hands massaged the muscle as they slid higher, completely shattering my defenses.
On the fourth kiss, he caught the black nylon with his teeth and tugged it, testing, then pulled—like a dog wrenching it free. Therrriiipsent a bare arrow up to my thigh—sudden cool air mixing with his hot breath. He gazed at me with that sly half grin, and I sucked in a sigh, because I was still probably mad at him.
He crawled toward me, shoulders flexing, pulling at the thin fabric. The springs groaned as the bed dipped under his weight, light playing across his shifting muscles like a big cat stalking its prey.
The tear snaked upward, his bite shredding the stocking in jagged lines, unraveling them and setting me free of the last barrier between him and I. I ran my hands through his hair, unwittingly inviting him closer, as his mouth stopped at my hip. One last snap—he pulled back the band and it came undonebetween his teeth.
His silhouette suspended over me on his locked arms, so close that I could see each individual protruding vein on his forearm.
“Vitali,” I whispered, needing him to touch me more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.
“Look at you,” he said, eyes traveling the curves of my bare skin. “Your chest flushes the same way your face does, Katya.” He leaned down, hips pressing mine into the mattress as he whispered against my temple, “Don’t move.”
He slid a hand beneath my shoulders, where the thin zipper came open with a soft ripple. The dress eased off, the act eclipsed by my pounding heart.
“Still angry?” His lips traced the frantic pulse at my throat as he dragged the dress down over my breasts and bunched it up over my hipbones. “Still my angry Kotik?”
“Getting there,” I whimpered, but he didn’t hear me.
I had never been naked in front of Vitali. He never let me, and God knows I’ve tried to orchestrate that accident on several occasions. But now that I lay under him, he took in my body with a raw, hungry interest I was yearning to drink in. If I didn’t know better, I would think his fingers trembled as he traced the swell of my breast.
“Christ, Katya—you’re beautiful.”
His thumb circled my nipple, and then his mouth eagerly took over. I gasped, clenching my jaw as he deliberately scraped his teeth over my flesh.
“Please,” I breathed out, not knowing what I was asking. He needed to move faster—harder—or I would lose my mind. His cock pressed against me, and the heat of his body was driving me insane. This—thishad to be the night. I couldn’t stand it if he did all this and then made me go to sleep alone. He spentevery night for the past two weeks sleeping on the couch. Like a Goddamn gentleman. Screw him.
“Please what?” he asked through a grin. His palm cupped my breast, kneading and squeezing. Prolonging the torture. When I didn’t answer fast enough, he bent and kissed the underside of each one, lightly sucking, making his way around.
“Please, Vitali.”Please for the love of God give me permission to touch you.
“And what is it that you’re asking, Katya?” He dragged his hand down my ribs and pushed aside the lacy underwear I admittedly wore hoping to end up in this exact position. “Is it this?”
I couldn’t take what he wanted to put me through. He wouldn’t have made it fast, and my whole body screamed for more. I shook my head no, so fast my neck nearly snapped.
“So it must be this.” His fingers hooked into my panties, dragging them down with laze. The lace snagged on my knees, and he shifted, bending them for me to slide the fabric free. “You’re doing so good, following the rules. Now, Kotik, that wasn’t permission. Don’t struggle. What was it Dostoyevsky said about interpreting freedom as the rapid satisfaction of desires?”
He read it… I never thought classic literature could make me so hot.
“He also wrote‘I will not take a hen-house for a mansion,’” I breathed, choking as he slipped a finger inside.
