Page 28 of Arranged for the Russian Pakhan

Oftentimes, much to my chagrin.

Yet it’s different now—now that I can feel against the curve of my ass that I do plenty for him, too. The vindication is dizzying. It isn’t helped by my brain glitching, watching as he wraps the blush-colored ribbon around his hand.

Chapter 10 - Anton

The reflection shows me with blown pupils and a swollen mouth, slightly parted, and breaths so obviously affected that there’s no option to pretend otherwise. And that’s just my reflection.

For Darya’s, there are no words. Words fail me.

But one thing’s for sure—in the aftermath of this torturous day, defined by an overlap of memories past and present, I don’t know what the fuck to do with this. The man in the mirror is a stranger to me. What’s worse is that he isn’t willing to wait around for me to make up my fucking mind.

Not when Darya purrs, “Are you going to strangle me with a ribbon because I’ve emasculated you?”

The man in the mirror finds humor in her obvious provocation. He doesn’t fall for it. The reflection doesn’t display it. It’s for my eyes alone that I cinch the silk around her wishbone-thin wrists, winding it once, twice, three times around them, and tie it off. And then I press my hips forward, pressing the rock-hard erection she’s caused into those bound hands.

“Do I feel emasculated?” I chide.

It brings a smug flush to my chest that she can’t resist touching me. She strains against the restraint she let me wrap her in just to stroke me from tip to base and back. My choked-out groan is as much praise for the action as it is for the way her pupils blow at her own exploration. If the size of my cock daunts her, it doesn’t translate. Darya’s eyes, heavy-lidded and mesmerizing, are bright with curiosity. Her voice is a slow drip of honey, drawling, “You feel desperate for me.”

“Then I should probably see how equal we are on that count,” I say.

She rubs the delectable curve of her ass against my erection, hungrily drinking in my reaction in the mirror. I let her see it—see the way she affects me. She can take in the way my face heats at the sight of the pretty pink imprint where my hand struck her. I only care about cupping that cheek, squeezing, smoothing a cool palm over the imprint, and the way it makes her lashes flutter shut. Let her have evidence that she turns me on.

Sexless robot? I’m going to fucking destroy her.

“I want you to watch,” I insist, exhaling the words against her temple.

She doesn’t listen. Of course not. Defiant, she rolls her shoulders back, shifts the weight on her high-heeled feet, and rubs me through my trousers. I expel a dark laugh against her warm, sweet skin. Pleasure dots my vision. It’s been too fucking long for me. Too long to keep myself from bucking against the contact with another tormented groan.

“Fuck, Darya—”

“You haven’t earned that yet,” she taunts.

It snaps me back.

“No?” I ask gently, lips pressing just behind her ear.

I live for the way a shudder wracks through her chest. The rosy peaks of her nipples poke through the lace. My touch merely ghosts over them, barely grazing. Fingers return to the hooks holding her little bodysuit together, toying with them. She swallows thickly, like her mouth is cottoned.

I’ll bet it is. She can’t seem to close it all the way.

There’s no way for her to fight the shocked, throaty little whine when I rip her panties away with a sharp yank. She deserves no fucking reprieve. My hand comes down hard at the same spot a second time, but with a grip that latches now. A grip I don’t let up on, even as it drifts between her cheeks. Her body stiffens—and I coo at her ear, pinning her against the dresser with a press of my pelvis.

My hand is the breadth of her back. I shove her stomach parallel to the ground. “How can I be emasculated? I’m a lucky fucking man today, aren’t I? All these holes are mine now.” My lips drag along her shoulder. “But don’t worry, Darya—I won’t start here,” I assure. It’s the truth. And I make it a lie when I drop to my knees. My tongue drags down the cleft.

Desperate is a good word for how wet her pretty, glistening cunt is. But what can I do? I can’t spare my mouth to rub her face in it. I make do with a twin pair of fingers dragging through the mess she’s making.

I can’t wait much longer before I’m spreading her open with my thumbs and licking a stripe from her swollen clit through her dripping folds. Look at that smart mouth and the way she still can’t fucking help but push back into my face. The way, in a matter of minutes, she’s dripping down my chin.

She has my cock ready to throw a party before my mouth’s eaten its fill. It doesn’t fucking help that she squirms against the ribbon. So feral, I’m concerned she’ll rip right through it.

“So impatient,” I mutter, using all that squirming to suck at her hip. “Are you impatient enough to beg for a sexless robot to fuck you?”

In front of my very eyes, her pussy clenches over my words.

Still, her mouth taunts, “Do you think licking me like a starving dog is enough to make me beg?”

Humming, I let my breath fan out over her glistening pussy. My tongue flicks mindlessly against her nub.