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Yuriy grabbed my thighs and licked a stripe of cum off my butt cheek. Pleasure jolted through me, and I clenched my fingers tightly around the edge of the sink as I fought the urge to buck back against his mouth.

“Hmm.” He fisted my shirt, pulling it up my waist as he cleaned me up. The sensation of his tongue darting over my skin was foreign but not entirely unpleasant. Every stroke burned, making heat curl inside my belly and sparks shoot along my spine. Every kiss of his tongue was a punishment for giving in to his absurd request.

I wanted to push him away, tell him to stop. But the words stuck in my throat as I watched him over my shoulder, down on his knees, his mouth on me. His mahogany hair clung to his sweaty forehead, his tattoos a stunning display of his body’s canvas. His tongue made slow paths over my ass, dragging out the simple, torturous act with a wicked enjoyment.

“Just go with the flow, Stas,” he murmured. “There’s no shame in liking it.”

“I don’t⁠—”

Yuriy spread my cheeks apart, and I had only a second to realize what he was doing before he pressed his tongue against my exposed hole. I bit down on my lip to suppress a cry, my body jerking at the unexpected intrusion. The sensation was new, alien, and astoundingly good.

Warm chills radiated through my body, spreading throughout my groin. My body wanted more, wanted him. But my mind screamed at me in dissent. Told me this was wrong, that this was Yuriy Orlov. We were destined to be enemies. We couldn’t be lovers.

“Fuck, you taste good.”

My breath hitched. My hole fluttered around the metal in his tongue, scraping over the sensitive area where no one else had ever touched.

“That’s it. Fuck your ass back on my tongue.”

My hips stuttered from shock because that was exactly what I’d been doing, grinding back against his mouth like the slut he’d called me earlier. But fuck. Being another man’s—Yuriy’s slut—felt out of this world. I’d never experienced anything like it.

I wrapped my fingers around my cock, spread my legs wider, and reached behind me with my free hand to dig my fingers into his hair and pull it tight. “Don’t stop,” I groaned. “Feels so fucking good.”

Tension coiled in my lower body as each lap of his tongue sent fresh jolts of pleasure that had me gasping and shoving myself harder onto his face. Every nerve, every fiber in my body was hypersensitive, sparking and crackling with electric heat.

I tightened my hand around my cock, pumping hard and fast. Yuriy’s talented mouth was reducing me to something primitive, something base. My perception narrowed until all I could feel, all I could comprehend, was the savagery of my arousal.

“Yuriy,” I rasped, my voice coming out strained, almost unrecognizable to my own ears. The sight of him on his knees, his face buried between my cheeks, was too much. I was losing control, and it was terrifying.

But I couldn’t stop.

I needed…

His tongue delved deeper, and heat raced along my spine, pooling low in my stomach. My legs were shaking; my cock throbbed with need. I jerked myself harder, faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue. There was no room for thoughts, no space for anything but the pleasure he coaxed from my twitching hole.

The tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed through me, raw and heady. Tightening my hand in his hair, I cried out, my voice echoing off the bathroom walls, as hot streams of release pumped from my twitching cock.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.”

Spent and shaky, I dropped my hands and sagged against the sink.

Deep breaths.

In.

Out.

Nothing had changed. Nothing would change because Yuriy had licked his cum from my ass. I was still straight. Still a pakhan. Still his enemy.

He rose behind me with a groan. “Well, that went better than expected.”

I straightened my spine, grabbed the waistband of my pants, and tugged them back up over my hips before he could see all of me. Before he could compare. Not only was I not packing like him, but in the past, women had made it clear they didn’t find me adequate.

“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you, Stas?” Yuriy placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know I’m that good, but I can’t say I’ve ever made anyone pass out after sex.”

I shrugged off his hand and spun around. “That wasn’t sex.” It was…a mistake. A blip in judgment.

Fuck, my hole is still dripping wet from his saliva.