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“Tell me,” I order.
“You want me to talk to you about where I—how I made myself…”
“Tell me how you got off.” I slide my hand around her hip and dip beneath the waistband of her slacks. Even through her panties, I can feel her heat. The dampness collecting there. All of it for me. “Did you use your hand?”
She nods, bites her lip, and moans. “I imagined it was yours.”
“Good girl.” I reward her with a rough stroke. “In bed?”
“The shower.” She’s grinding herself into my hand now. Saying“I’ve got her right where I want her”would be an understatement.
“You were thinking about me in the shower? I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“And you obviously weren’t thinking about me if you haven’t had a release since we met,” she says. “Should I be offended?”
I curl my finger against her slit, still moving over her panties. “I was thinking about you. But I have self-restraint.”
“Or a low libido.”
I bark out a laugh. “Knowing what I want is not the same as not wanting it. Why would I settle for a facsimile when, with a little patience, I could have the real thing?”
I expect Rayne to have something to say about that. She usually does. But when I look down, her eyes are closed and her lips are parted. She’s lost to my touch, on the edge of coming by some simple over-the-panties rubbing. No wonder she couldn’t help but touch herself; she’s about to fall to fucking pieces.
“You want me,” I say between long kisses. “You’ve wanted me since the night we met.”
“Shut up.”
I laugh, but Rayne catches the sound in her mouth.
“You were right,” she says. “About passion. How it shifts from one extreme to the other. I hated you yesterday.”
“Are you saying you love me now?”
“I’m saying Iwantyou now.” She moans when I increase my pace, rolling herself against me until she’s bucking so hard it’s almost hard to hold onto her.
A low whimper starts to work out of her with each thrust, and I’m about to slide my finger under her panties to finish the job. Because as much as I need my own release, I want to watch Rayne unravel even more. I want this fight for power to end with her literally wrapped around my finger.
“Please,” she gasps. “Kirill. Please.”
I groan and slip beneath her panties.
“Kirill.”
This voice is deeper. Distinctly not Rayne’s. Distinctly male.
We both freeze.
Rayne pulls back and looks at me, blinking like she’s coming out of a daze. Then she looks past me and her entire body engulfs in flames. She is red from tips to toes. “Oh my God.”
I glance back and see German standing behind me.
“Fucking—What?” I bark. “Get the hell out of—”
“I called you twice. There’s a problem on the third floor,” he says. The complete lack of winking and nodding from him interrupting this sexcapade tells me exactly how serious it is.
“Blyat’.” I yank my hand out of Rayne’s pants and back away.
I didn’t hear German approaching. I didn’t feel my phone vibrate. Because I let this woman distract me. I let myself be sucked into this moment to the detriment of everything else.
