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I’m looking for a new toy. Would you care to take the role?
Finally, blessedly, the pressure inside of me reaches a fever pitch and then… boom. Sweet release.
“Ohhh,” I groan, slapping my hand against the shower wall. I press my heated skin to the cold tile as wave after wave of pleasure ravages through me.
My wrist is weak, my fingers numb. But my body is a live wire. Instead of being spent, I want more. So much more.
The orgasm is still lowering me back to earth, and I want to go again.
My legs start to tremble so hard I can’t stand. Carefully, I lower myself down to the floor of the shower. I sit in a heap under the spray, water pouring down my face as my muscles clench and pulse and sigh.
I didn’t tame the beast of passion inside of me…
I woke it up.
I drag my hands down my face. “I am so fucked.”
14
KIRILL
“Skang Duttrop is in the fold,” German says. His voice is staticky through the car speakers. “He promised to update us when Stefano reaches out.”
“Good. I want you on that. I have enough to deal with back home,” I reply.
Home. I’m talking about New York City, but the mansion on the beach is what enters my mind. Along with a pretty little maid with honey brown hair and ocean blue eyes. The thought of her, as feisty as she can be, is more welcoming than the pile of messages I have waiting for me from the New York headquarters.
“The nightclubs are supposed to be a front,” I grimace, “but I swear they take more work than the entire Bratva.”
“Still dealing with the liquor licenses?” he asks.
“I may be until I’m dead.”
“Pity. It’s probably cutting into the time you could be spending flirting with your new favorite maid.”
“Careful,” I warn. “Keep sticking your nose in my fucking business and I’ll bury you in paperwork.”
“Message received,” he says quickly. “You won’t hear a peep out of me about your ‘fucking’business.”
I roll my eyes and end the call. I don’t have the energy for German’s bullshit today.
When I walk through the front door, the kitchen and dining room are dark. The sun is dipping beneath the water. Most of the staff have probably left for the day.
I force myself not to acknowledge the disappointment that Rayne is already gone. No little games to be played today, it seems.
I don’t have time for it anyway. I should have been up to see Ilya already. Things go sideways when I break the schedule. But that’s normal. It always takes him a bit to settle into the new living quarters when we make the summer transition.
I move down the hallway towards the back staircase. I’m about to head up to the third floor when I hear faint music coming from the living room.
I stop and lean towards the noise. It’s not a radio. Just the soft, smooth sound of a woman humming. My skin frissons like there’s an electric current in the air.
I don’t make an effort to conceal my approach. My shoes tap against the hardwood floors of the hallway, echoing off the high ceilings. But the singing continues. Whoever it is, they don’t mind that I’m here—or they’re too lost in their own world to notice.
When I turn the corner into the living room, I know exactly which option is correct.
Because if Rayne knew I was coming, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this position.
She is on knees and elbows under the grand piano, her round ass poking high in the air. I see the rag in her hand and the bottle of cleaner next to her, but it’s impossible to convince my cock she isn’t doing this for me.
