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Regret filled me, not just about Vasov’s death. I also had to accept that I’d been a fool to do what I had last night, but it would have been impossible to stay away from her when she slipped beneath my sheets and offered herself to me the way she had.
The most I’d been able to manage was to pin her down and to giveherpleasure, but my dick was already telling me I was a dumbass, even as I was relieved I’d managed to hold back.
I was going to have to accept that, for whatever reason, I’d been more than willing to give her pleasure without expecting any in return.
A sign of character growth?
Or just proof that she could tangle my balls into a knot?
I wasn’t particularly impressed with either prospect as I left her, heading over to my bathroom and closing the door for some privacy while I used the toilet.
After, I stared at myself in the mirror, looked at the stubble I needed to shave, and deep in my eyes, I saw the strange resolve there.
For months, I’d known about Camille.
For months, that promise to her mother had been plaguing me.
Now it was coming to fruition, I didn’t feel like a man being led to the guillotine. I didn’t feel as if this was the end of my life as I knew it.
If anything, it was the beginning of another phase. The turning of a new leaf. And while the timing wasn’t ideal, in my world, there was no perfect time to do anything.
We were always at war with someone—granted, not to this extent—and we were always involved in disputes with one gang or another, of the business variety if not the violent.
Sometimes, you just had to grab life by the balls or you never did anything. At forty years old, it was time.
Time for me to have something of what my baby brothers had.
Time for me to have a family.
I’d never have said I was a romantic, because I wasn’t. You couldn’t be in my line of work. But after last night, after how biddable she’d been... it made me wonder if I wanted her for real. Not just to fulfil a promise, but because she was a hot piece of ass and she’d managed to do what few had—killed a Pakhan in the Bratva.
That made her more interesting than the piece of fluff she came across as.
Deciding that I’d shower first because I wanted to jack off, I stripped down and pressed the button that triggered the waterfall shower head. As the water rained down, I pressed another button, one that had the wall of glass in front of me fading into a clear pane, and as I did, I saw she wasn’t pretending anymore. Her eyes were open, her face tilted toward the ceiling.
Stepping under the fall, I let the water pound down on me before I grabbed my soap, let some pool into my palm, and then reached down and coated myself in the slippery liquid.
A hiss escaped me as my cock responded immediately, morning wood having made my earlier bout of chivalry seem even more stupid.
Hadn’t she said it herself?
Tonight, I wasn’t going to abstain, so why had waitinglastnight been so important to me?
I didn’t know why, in all honesty. I knew the reasons I’d given her, but was aware that they were only half the truth.
As I shaped my cock, my jaw tensed as I pressed one hand to the glass, looking at a woman who was mine in a way... Hell, in a way thatno onewould ever be.Couldever be.
She’d be tied to me in every which way. Mine to protect, mine to shelter, mine to keep.
But as I looked at her, I had to accept that she was too hot for any of that.
Too fucking sexy, everything about her my idea of spankbank material, to just fuck her to get her pregnant.
Irony was, of course, that I accepted that just as she rocked her head down and her gaze drifted over mine. For a second, I saw her surprise, because she hadn’t realized the piece of glass in front of me was a ‘magic’ window, and then, she registered what I was doing.
Her cheeks burned a bright red for the barest moments, before her gaze clashed with mine and she tipped her chin up, then declared war.
She licked her lips.
