“Are you coming?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder when she realizes I’ve slowed my pace.
“Not yet,” I reply with a smirk, watching the confusion in her eyes shift to understanding as her cheeks flush that delicious pink. Fuck, I love how easily she blushes and lets her shyness distract her.
Her pace quickens as we continue down the hallway toward her room. The silence between us pulses with possibility, with all the things I want to do to her, all the ways I plan to claim her once we’re married.
Tonight, I’ll settle for her presence in my bed. That’s enough. For now.
When we reach her door, she hesitates, her hand on the knob. “I need to say goodnight to Onyx,” she says softly. “And get ready for bed.”
“Twenty minutes,” I tell her, my voice rough. “Then come to my bedroom. I’ll leave the door open.” I point to the room two doors down, making sure she knows which one’s mine.
She swallows hard, her throat working in a way that makes me want to trace it with my tongue. “Okay,” she whispers.
“Twenty minutes,” I repeat, turning away before I decide to take her right here against her door. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”
I hear her door close behind me as I stride down the hall, my cock pulsating with each step. Twenty minutes is barely enough time to get myself under control, but it will have to do.
My bedroom is the largest in the house, taking up most of the upstairs, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the estate.
I step into the bathroom and strip off my clothes so I can grab a quick shower. Under the hot spray, I close my eyes and let Alina’s image fill my mind. Her pussy weeping for me while her fingers gripped my hair with a strength I didn’t know she had.
And the fucking sounds she made.
“Cazzo,” I mutter, wrapping my hand around my cock. “Fuck.”
She’s barely had her hands on me, yet I’m harder than I’ve been in years. Like some fucking teenager who’s never felt a woman’s touch before.
My hand slides up and down my shaft, finding the perfect rhythm. I’ve never been one for fantasy. Why bother when reality is at my disposal? But right now, I let myself imagine Alina’s hair spread across my pillows. Her full breasts spilling into my hands. Those soft thighs parted for me as I push inside her tight cunt for the first time.
I groan, my grip tightening as I increase the pace.
I picture her on her knees in front of me, blue eyes wide as she takes my cock into her mouth. Would she be hesitant? Eager? Would she need guidance, or surprise me with hidden talents? I want to find out.
The water cascades down my body as I lean against the shower wall, my hand working furiously now. In my mind, I see Alina bent over my bed, my handprint red on her ass as I thrust into her from behind.
I let out a guttural groan as my balls tighten. I’m approaching the edge, my breathing harsh and ragged. Just a few more strokes and…
A soft gasp breaks through my fantasy.
My eyes snap open to find Alina standing frozen in my bedroom doorway, her gaze fixed on me through the transparent glass of the shower. Her mouth is open in shock, her cheeks flaming red, but she doesn’t turn away. Doesn’t run.
Our eyes lock, and something primal roars to life inside me. Instead of stopping, I maintain eye contact as my hand continues its rhythm. Let her see. Let her understand exactly what she does to me.
“This is what you do to me, Alina,” I say, my voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes her shiver. “This is what wanting you feels like.”
Her breath catches visibly, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the white t-shirt she’s changed into. It’s the one I gave her when she wore her fucking wet clothes. The first night we played chess.
Just like then, I wonder if she’s aware I can see the outline of her nipples. I lick my lips as I watch them harden against the fabric.
The sight pushes me over the edge.
“Should I…” Trailing off, her eyes find mine. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
Is it okay? Is it fucking okay? “Yes,” I growl. “Fuck yes.”
She looks as though she wants to say more. Maybe even like she wants to join me. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to feel her small hand on me right now.
But instead of pushing her, I continue thrusting into my hand, refusing to break eye contact.
