Call it burnout or boredom, but nothing’s done it for me in a while. Until her.
With Evelina grinding on me, her lids closed, lips parted, head tipped back, every coherent thought evaporates.
My balls draw up tight, pressure building at the base of my spine, teeth gritted against the need to thrust up into her heat.
“I hope I made this worth your time?” she rasps, taunting me.
“You’re doing fine,” I manage, though it comes out rougher than I intended.
“Well, I aim to do better than fine.”
She pulls back enough to meet my stare, her gaze dark and hungry.
Without breaking eye contact, she reaches behind her. A few seconds later, her corset loosens and her breasts spill free.
They’re perfect. Pale skin, dark nipples already tight, begging for my mouth.
A tattoo of vines and thorns wraps around her ribcage, disappearing under her right breast.
She lets the corset fall to the floor. Now it’s her bare skin against my shirt, and it takes everything in me not to lean forward and capture one of those nipples between my teeth.
My knuckles go white where I’m gripping the leather. It’s the only thing keeping me from grabbing her ass and grinding her down on my cock.
She picks up the pace, hands trailing down my chest, fingers splaying across my ribs.
My vision narrows. The room blurs at the edges. All that exists is her, the feel of her body moving over mine, the sound of her ragged breathing mixing with mine, the relentless friction pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
She's not just dancing. She's fucking me through my clothes. If I had any sense left, I'd stop this.
Lift her off, tell her the audition's over. But I'm too far gone.
My hips rock up to meet hers. Pleasure coils tight low in my gut, and a rough sound tears from my throat. And then I lose it completely. My cock pulses, release slamming through me harder than it has in years.
I buck against her, riding out the best orgasm of my life. From a lap dance.
Evelina's lids fly open, wide and startled. She goes still as she realizes what just happened.
How hard I came. She wasn't trying to make me come—she seemed to be as lost in the moment as I was. But she did, and it was fucking glorious.
Satisfaction spreads through me like warm honey.
I won't let her retreat into shame or panic over what just happened. She gave me five minutes where nothing else existed except the way her body felt against mine. Five minutes where I wasn't the heir carrying the weight of an empire, just a man completely undone.
Now I'm going to pay back the favor.
CHAPTER
THREE
DINARA
Oh.My. God.
I’m ninety-nine percent sure Kirill Baronov came in his pants while I used him like my own personal toy.
I lost control as much as he did, but that’s no excuse. He probably thinks I’ll do this with all the clients. That I’m unprofessional to say the least.
I pull back, an apology forming on my lips, but before I speak, his fingers curl around my jaw and he tilts my face toward his. His pale blue eyes, dark with lust, lock onto mine.
