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He nods. “We don’t keep secrets from one another. Unless…you ask me not to?”
“So, you’d keep a secret for me?”
“If you let me touch you, Duchess, then yes, I’ll keep it secret if you want.”
Is he lying?
If he’s telling the truth, there’s a heady rush of power in the possibility of breaking the bond between him and the other two Devils. This could all be tricks, though. Lies and temptations.
How can I let Kirill touch me, when Tino already has? That makes me a slut, according to most people, though I’ve only ever slept with the professor before all of whatever the hell this is started.
“So pretty.” His fingers trail down my cheek to my collarbone and dip into my cleavage before running back up my throat. They’re feather light touches that have me shivering in response.
His blue gaze holds mine captive.
I know this man can dance, and I know how well he moves, so it’s not a stretch to imagine he’ll be talented with his body in other ways.
“We shouldn’t,” I say. “Tino …”
“Tino doesn’t know, and, if he did, he likely wouldn’t care.”
“He wouldn’t?” I’d never admit it out loud, but I’m a little hurt at the thought that he wouldn’t care if I slept with his friend.
“Are you and him getting married, Duchess? I must have missed the invite.”
Those fingers that are softly caressing my throat suddenly wrap around it, and he grips me tightly. He’s not choking me, but he’s dominating me, and I’d be a liar if I said my body didn’t respond to it.
His thumb brushes over my artery, almost tender but with an edge of threat I find horribly sensual.
“Let me make you feel good, Duchess.”
My voice is breathy. “And what do you want in return?”
“You don’t have to touch me at all,” he says with a smile. “Scout’s honor.”
It’s a trap, that smile. I know it is, but I still gasp when his other hand dips down between my thighs and brushes right over the front of my leggings, directly over my pussy, sending electric shocks through me.
“I want to see you. I want to touch you. Make you come. No one will know. No one ever comes through here.”
I should say no, but at his stroking touch, my eyes already flutter closed, and my breathing increases.
I’ve been so on edge for days that I need a release. I can’t get drunk. Can’t confide in anyone, not really. My run helped, but it didn’t stop the energy zinging inside me. Will this?
Can Kirill silence the nervous anxiety? If only for a while?
“Lie back, Duchess,” he purrs.
His voice is deep, his accent exotic, and his words are like a spell, weaving magic around me in this strange, hidden-away glen.
Perhaps if we do this, it won’t be real. Maybe this is a dream?
I know rationally it’s not, but it feels like one, all hazy and delicious.
Kirill kisses me again, trailing his lips feather light down my throat and collarbone as he carefully lowers me back to the ground. He unclips my sports bra and pulls my top down so my breasts fall free. He kisses one then the other, sucking my nipples softly at first, then harder.
When he gets to my waist, he pauses kissing and looks up at me before pulling my leggings down roughly. I gasp as the material burns my thighs and then gasp again when he does the same to my panties. He lifts my ass off the ground and puts something underneath me before settling me back down. I realize he’s put the sweater he had wrapped around his waist under me, so I don’t get dirty.
I’m about to thank him for being thoughtful, but he halts me in my tracks. He bends down, and his mouth covers my whole pussy. He sucks on me as if I’m a ripe fruit. I think I’m going to lose my mind, but then he stops and parts my folds with his fingers, holding me wide open to him.
