Her cheeks flush from anger but also the warmth of the water.
She’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does in the pique of unnecessary jealousy.
She wantsme.
How is that fucking possible?
“I haven’t screwed anyone since you came of age. Of the two of us, Victoria, I’m the one suffering, not you.” When she sits tall, water dousing her, beading her skin so it glitters like diamonds, I persevere, “I value you. Is that such a crime?”
Her rejoinder is to slouch back, indolently sprawling those loose limbs, revealing every inch of her to me.
And she’s perfection.
From the slight silvery marks at the sides of her breasts and where hip meets thigh to the smooth expanse of her belly. There’s the faintest pooch there and it makes me think of when she’ll carry my baby—the urge to press my hand to it is unbearable.
I’m used to pneumatic blondes with more plastic in them than is healthy—Victoria is the opposite and all the more desirable for it.
I can tell when she realizes I’m studying her because her hand twitches, fluttering about her neckline before she forces it down.
“Krasivaya,” I whisper.
Her throat bobs and her insecurities rise and fall. I see the moment she chooses to embrace them and she dips her chin. “Yes, I’m beautiful, but so are you.”
“What pretty babies we’ll make together,” I coo, just to hear her indignant screech. “Ah, now the neighbors will think the wolf in Moscow has come here.”
She spatters me with enough bathwater that, smirking, I stand and unbuckle my belt. Her eyes remain glued to the buckle, and I see that ever-so-faint relieved puff of breath escape her when I discard it on the floor.
I make no comment—Papaused one on me before. Rarely, butenough for it to leave a lasting impression. I imagine her father did the same at some point.
I almost resent Camille for murdering the cunt.
Kicking my leg out of the water, I unfasten my fly and drag my pants off. While she’s gulping at my body’s reaction to her, I sit down opposite her in the tub.
The heat sinks into my aching bones, urging a sigh out of me. Spying that her feet are a respectable distance from my dick, I snag them and position them atop my thighs.
Her eyes widen, switching between my face and my cock and her feet, then she sags when I dig my thumb into her arch.
“O-oh,” she whimpers, the sound unbearably sexual.
I want to hear my name shatter when she screams it. I cannot fucking wait?—
When her other foot settles beside my dick, I tense but don’t stop her, nor do I give up on the foot rub. As I take note that her pedicure matches her bloodred fingernails, I simply warn, “Play with fire and you’ll get burned.”
“I’m safe though, aren’t I? Seeing as you’resoold-fashioned.”
I dig deep into her arch to make her hiss. “Sounds like someone wants a spanking.”
“I’m too old for that!”
“Are you ever too old, though?”
Her lips soften into a moue. “Does that feel good… spanking?”
I shrug. “We can learn together.”
“I didn’t say I’d let you do it!”
“Sounds like it to me.”
