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But water slips through my fingers. It flows on its own, no matter how much pressure or power I apply, and ultimately slips away. Unless, it’s kept in a container and locked up tight. Then I can hold it. Then I can keep it.
Which do I want? A woman I can keep in a cage and have at my beck and call for pleasure, or someone who can handle not only my cock, but the weight of the crown and all its demands?
Which do I need?
My phone pings again, and I blindly reach for it. Another text has come through, this time from Ezra.
She is pretty in blue.
I pull up the photo of her in the library and zoom in. Her nightgown is the palest shade of blue imaginable, thin and see-through and hanging off her shoulders, her rosy nipples on full display. But her panties are a deeper shade of blue, caught around her ankle like an after-thought.
An outfit like that isn’t an accident.
My cock swells at the thought of Valentina naked in her bedroom, meticulously planning her outfit for her late-night solo session. She wanted to be seen. She wanted to get caught.
A moan catches in my throat as I grab the base of my shaft. I imagine all three of us are stroking ourselves now, imagining that we’re coming all over Valentina’s pretty face and tits instead of our hands.
But if she wants me, or Ezra, or Mikhail, she’s going to have to act on it first. She’s going to have to submit of her own free will.
I fire off a quick message to the group.
Don’t approach her or talk to her about what happened tonight. Don’t try to fuck her. If she wants us, she will come to us.
You want us to wait? Mikhail’s always been impatient. You should have seen her, Andrei. All flushed and moaning our names. She wants us.
She will make the first move, or you won’t touch her.
A thread of satisfaction curls in my chest. If it’s about making the first move, I’ll be the victor. I’ll be first. I’m spending the most time with her, after all. If she’ll pick anyone, it’ll be me, if not because she wants me the most, then because I’m the most available.
It doesn’t matter how I win, as long as I’m first.
If I showed up at her door, do you think she’d let me in?
I picture Mikhail knocking on Valentina’s bedroom door, a wicked grin on his face as she appears in her little blue nightgown. I try to erase the image from my mind as quickly as possible, knowing that it likely leads to him fucking her in her bed, and I don’t want to picture that while I’ve still got my aching cock in my hand.
Ezra’s reply is perfect.
No.
I toss my phone to the bed and fist my cock. I won’t sleep until I come again. My movements are rough and frantic as I imagine Valentina riding me, creaming all over my cock as she bounces up and down, her head thrown back and a cry on her lips as she clamps down around me and comes.
With a growl, I shoot my load, bucking my hips and wishing I was inside her. Painting her white. Filling her past capacity, watching my cum leak out of her tight little cunt.
Soon, I’ll have her body. She will submit to me.
I roll onto my side and try to picture the moment she walks up to me and asks for it, but I get caught up in the details. Blue panties turn white and lacy. Her lips painted deep red to match the bouquet in her hands. A veil frames her face as her eyelashes flutter and her cheeks blush bright pink.
My heart hurts, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I want her body, but in the end, I want so, so much more than that . . . and I will have it all, whether she gives it to me or not.
The clock is ticking, Valentina. Make your move, or I will make mine.
Chapter 12
Ezra
After my transfer from Russia to the US sector, I burned through two pakhans and three states before I ended up in Harlin Heights. There wasn’t a placement for me immediately, so I lived in the orphanage as they decided what to do with the Russian transfer with more scars than he had sense.
