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I run my hand over his chest, caress his pecs, his abs, then gently wrap my hand around his hard cock. He lets out a sigh. His whole body tenses, and he starts to turn around, but I stop him. I move my hand gently back and forth, feeling his hard length in my wet palm. Meanwhile, I kiss his muscular back, then trail my lips and tongue across the skin. When I bite his shoulder, he can’t help groaning.
“Alma, that feels so good…”
His cock glides easily through my palm, swelling with every stroke. Without stopping for a second, I run my other hand through his hair. I grab a handful and gently pull, forcing him to tilt his head back. Vadim moans and bares his neck to me—but I’ve barely pressed my lips against it when he moves away from me.
Spinning around, he pins me against the side of the pool and murmurs in a low, teasing voice, “Your turn to moan…”
As Vadim thrusts his tongue into my mouth, his fingers slip inside me, and his thumb brushes my clitoris, circling it, teasing it, applying pressure. I’m dripping wet. Lost in the pleasure, I dig my nails into his back, leaving marks on his skin.
“Faster, Vadim…”
He lifts me up and sets me on the tiled surface surrounding the water. With a single look, he asks me the question; I understand immediately and give an impatient groan. His face disappears between my thighs. When his tongue enters me, my whole body shudders.
A few minutes later, I come. I soar. I fly. I scream his name, grabbing his hair with one hand and bracing myself against the ground with the other.
Vadim rests his head against my stomach, and I stroke his head. It takes me a while to come to my senses. When I do, he pulls me back into the water and holds me close. Another wave of warmth rises inside me.
“And you?” I whisper.
“You were hoping to win, weren’t you?”
“You want me to…”
He places his finger over my lips. “I won too, Alma. I got everything I wanted.”
Once again, he proves to me that my pleasure is just as important as his. That he loves me, values me, and respects me enough to partly forget himself.
“Who made you so perfect, Vadim? So sensitive? So light and so dark? So wonderful?”
“You.”
I smile at him, moved. He kisses my neck, murmuring “I love you” against my skin. Then, we bring our feet to the surface and float together, simply letting ourselves drift.
61
Alma
[Unknown number
Aren’t you wondering who I am?]
Great, just what I needed.
Our group, partially disbanded, has been back in Paris for barely three days, and the mysterious messenger has already popped up again. The timing seems strange to me. And I’m having a harder and harder time believing that an unscrupulous journalist is behind all this. That someone is harassing me like this just to make me talk.
Could Vadim have something to hide?
[Alma
The cops are going to love your messages…]
With my finger hovering over Send, I hesitate, then decide to delete this first version.
[Alma
Who are you?]
No, not that either. My fingertips tap impatiently on the keyboard as I start over.
