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“But you do,” I pushed her.
She nodded and bit her lip.
“Show me,” I said, the alcohol burning in my veins. The need to bury my problems and take refuge in Molly’s body called to me. “Show me much you like being all I see.”
“How?”
She was still so new to intimacy. It turned me on to know I would be the only one teaching Molly everything related to sex and carnal delights. The trust burning in her eyes had lust boiling in my veins.
“Take your panties off.” I watched her comply with an insatiable hunger. “Now, get down on all fours, and let me see that pretty behind.”
Slowly she sank to the floor, excitement firing in her eyes. I’d never played with someone like I did with Molly. In the past, encounters had been for stress relief, and I left immediately after. I didn’t fuck face to face or draw the act out.
But with Molly? I could play all day. Best of all was how my particular brand of play seemed to light her up from the inside. She liked to participate, and nothing shocked her. It was a heady combination in someone who was a virgin not too long ago.
“Now, crawl to the bedroom,” I told her thickly, standing behind her so I could see her pretty holes winking at me through her transparent skirt.
She dipped her head to hide her grin. She started to crawl, and the movement made her body slink, her ass rolling temptingly with the movement. I walked behind her, watching her the entire way.
We didn’t make it to the bedroom before I pounced.
32
MOLLY
Another day, another humiliating harem outfit that made me blush. I knew Kirill was fucking with me when it came to the clothes in the wardrobe. If there’d been anything I truly hated growing up, it was pretty pink princess dresses. Kirill seemed to have made it his mission to fill an entire wardrobe with them, and his versions were X-rated. It was like being an extra in a late-night, adults-only princess parody, wandering around an expensive penthouse all day, waiting for my owner and captor to come home and fuck me to the point of exhaustion.
I indulged him because fighting about it seemed exhausting. Besides, I liked to torment him and myself by walking around half-naked, never knowing when he’d snap and grab me. He always did, unfailingly, and my body became more addicted to his every day.
After Kirill had told me the truth last night, he’d taken me to bed and sank inside me so many times that it was a little hard to walk today. He’d fallen asleep still buried inside me, and an hour later, I’d wake to him fucking me again, a wet mess of both of our juices dripping down my thighs, his fingers playing with my clit, and my body already racing toward release. It had happened more than once. The only disappointment had come this morning when he was gone when I woke up.
Olga noticed immediately as she eyed me in the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, apart from being held captive by a bloodthirsty criminal,” I said with a manic smile.
She decided not to comment on my statement. Her eyes snapped over my clothes, her look disapproving. “Here, you wear this,” she told me sternly, passing me an apron.
“Thanks, I love it. It is literally the best thing I own these days.” I wrapped it around me, glad I was mostly covered.
Olga tutted. “It’s loaned.”
Right. I rooted around in her grocery bags and was pinched on the hand for my trouble.
“Today, we’re makingblinkshki.”
“Sure.” Maybe an activity would distract me.
Olga removed items from her bag and placed them on the counter. “Here.” She handed me a dove gray rectangle.
I stared at it for a few minutes.“It’s a notebook,” I said stupidly. “You bought me a notebook?”
“Not me. Kirill said your mind needed occupying. You like to write? Write the recipe I tell you so you can practice when I’m not here,” she bossed.
Seriously, Olga could have been an effective military commander in another life.
Stunned, I ran my finger across the dove-gray velvet. Kirill remembered I liked to write? Or had he discovered my journals when he cleared my house behind my back like a creep? I’d hoped one of his lackeys had done it for him and saved me the embarrassment.
