Page 11 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

“Fuck, I like how you say it.” His breathing is heavier now. I can hear the faint rustle of fabric, the slick sound of his hand moving. “Pump your fingers.”

I obey, hips rocking, moans slipping out unchecked. “I’m close…”

“Not yet.” His voice is steel. “Edge yourself. Stop right before you come. Then start again.”

I whimper, pulling my hand away just as the coil tightens to breaking. My whole body shakes.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice thick with want. “Again. Faster this time.”

I dive back in, fingers curling, thumb on my clit. The pleasure builds fast. “Leonid—”

“Come for me. Let me hear you fall apart.”

The command shatters me.

My back arches, a broken cry tearing from my throat as the orgasm crashes through me, harder than last night, wave after blinding wave. My inner walls pulse around my finger.

When the aftershocks fade, I’m boneless, chest heaving. And it finally hits me: there’s no undoing what I just did with Leonid Volkov.

Chapter Four

Laurel

I sit at my desk, the classroom quiet except for the distant shouts and laughter drifting in from the playground. Break time is in full swing, and most of my students are out there running, swinging, chasing each other. But not Alexei.

He’s sitting alone at one of the small round tables near the window, just like he does every single day. His dark head is bent over the Rubik’s cube he’s been carrying around for almost a week now. His small fingers twist and turn the colorful squares with intense focus, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. He’s been trying to solve it during every break.

Abigail, sweet little Abigail with her two neat braids and bright pink sneakers, skips over to him. She stops a few feet away, smiling wide enough to show the gap where she lost a front tooth last week.

“Alexei! Come play tag with us! It’s fun!”

He doesn’t even look up to acknowledge her at all. Just keeps working the cube, the soft clicking of the plastic the only sound he makes.

Abigail’s shoulders sag a little. She waits another second, then shrugs and runs off to join the others. My chest tightens. I hate seeing that look on any of my kids, but especially when it’s because one of them is shutting everyone else out.

I watch Alexei a moment longer. The resemblance to his father is uncanny. The same jet-black hair, thick and slightly wavy. The same sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, just softened by baby fat. The only real difference is the eyes: Leonid’s are that striking, stormy blue while Alexei’s are warm brown, like melted chocolate.

Shame curls in my stomach. Leonid and I haven’t talked about him. Not once. All those late-night messages, all those phone calls, we’ve completely avoided the actual reason I went to that mansion in the first place.

His son. I’m supposed to be helping Alexei, not… whatever it is I’ve been doing with his father.

I pull my phone out of my cardigan pocket, my thumb hovering over Leonid’s name. I force myself to ignore the string of notifications from our previous conversations, the ones that still make my face burn when I think about them.

Me: We really need to meet and talk about Alexei. Properly this time. Please.

I hit send and then set the phone face-down on the desk. Then I stand and walk over to Alexei.

I crouch beside his chair, bringing myself to his level, and offering the warmest smile I can manage.

“Hi, Alexei.”

He glances up at me briefly. “Hi, Ms. Harper.” His voice is quiet, polite, but distant.

I nod toward the window where the other children are shrieking with laughter. “How come you’re not out playing with your friends today?”

He shrugs without looking away from the cube. “I don’t feel like it.”

I wait a beat, then point at the Rubik’s cube. “That looks tricky. Do you want some help figuring it out?”