“He has a kid,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand. “I don’t think he’s looking for anything serious anyway, and I’m not looking to mess around.”
Definitely not after what happened the last time I had sex. I don’t regret Milo, ever, but I hate that my one and only experience with sex was in a dark room at a party with a guy I didn’t even know. It makes me feel disgusting.
But I was just a teenager not thinking clearly, having had too much to drink. Whenever I think about Milo getting older and asking who his father is, I get nauseous. What will I tell him?
“Well, you never know if he is unless you ask,” Mandy throws in. “But even if he’s not looking for a relationship, who cares? One night with him might not be the worst thing. Friends with benefits works for a lot of people, and girl, you need some dick.”
“I don’t do friends with benefits, and I’ve survived just fine without a penis.”
My vibrator serves its purpose…
“Sure you have, but fine, I won’t bring it up again. Tonight, anyway.” She giggles.
Rubbing my temple, I pull the phone away from my ear and tap back into the thread with Kirill, rereading his messages like they might rearrange themselves into something less mortifying if I stare long enough, while Mandy shifts gears and starts rambling about Jace again.
I half listen, eyes stuck on Kirill’s words. And even as I tell myself this is nothing, I start to wonder…
What if she’s right? What if Kirill wants something?
Something real. With me.
Hope rises fast, but it only takes two seconds for reality to crush it.
If he ever found out who I really am, he wouldn’t just stop wanting me. He’d make damn sure I’m nowhere near his life. Nowhere near Lev.
And that would kill me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KIRILL
Water runs over my face,my eyes shut, and she’s still there behind my lids like she never left, that blush creeping up her cheeks.
My hand slides down and wraps around my cock, stroking slowly while I remember how good it felt to hold her hand, the way her lips parted like she wanted more. The thoughts make me throb even more.
She’s always the one I think about when I’m alone. It’s her I’m chasing: her sweet cunt, her body, the round curve of her ass and the weight of those thick thighs I want locked around my neck while my tongue tastes her.
That text plays in my head over and over until the back of my head hits the tiles, my fingers squeezing the crown of my erection, needing her sliding on it.
No man has ever tasted her, and that knowledge pulls something possessive up from deep in me. Something I keep buried because once it’s loose, it won’t stop. Not with her.
“Blyat.”
Water beats down on my skin like it can burn her out of me, and it doesn’t even come close. My grip tightens around mylength as I picture myself sinking my tongue inside her while she tugs on my hair, moaning my name.
I can’t stop seeing her. The way she would beg me to make her come while she dripped all over my mouth before I buried myself deep inside her. Stretching, filling her with every drop until it’s spilling out her. The way I’d watch our baby grow inside her.
My hand tightens, stroking hard, as the picture sharpens: her on my bed, her hands in my hair, the sound she tries to swallow turning into something she can’t hold back.
And the thought of having her legs open for me, letting me take what I want, makes my control snap. I stroke faster, chasing my release like I’m cursing myself for wanting her this much.
When it hits me, it hits rough, a full-body spasm. Her name slips out as I spill against the tile, proof of how much power she has over me without even knowing she’s holding it.
The second it’s over, the guilt hits hard. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. But even with my hand at my side and the water pouring down, she’s still there, vivid and lodged in my mind like she’s carved her way in.
Telling myself no doesn’t matter anymore. She’s all I see. And the need for her makes me violent, to the point that I almost convince myself to find her and bring her home with me.
But I won’t, no matter how badly I want to. No matter how much I crave her under me, looking into my eyes like she’s furious that she needs me the way I’m starting to need her.
