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“Are you ready?” Her eyes flick over me. “You’re overdressed. Let me help with that.”
I close my eyes, trying to focus on the soothing touch of her long-fingered, delicate hands as they move over my body, divesting me of my coat and shirt and pants, her nails scraping over the ridges of my abs delicately as she makes her way down to my belt, the softness of the side of her hand brushing against my hardening cock as she removes my pants. By the time she’s finished, her fingers skimming over me in touches that are meant to feel accidental but I know are entirely intentional, I’m hard, and I feel that wave of relief again.
I can still get it up for another woman.
I follow her into the warm, steamy bathroom. There’s a claw-foot tub more than big enough for two, filled to the brim with foamy bubbles, and her hands go to the belt of her robe as she undoes it, letting it first drape off of her shoulders, and then slowly slide down her back as she looks over her shoulder at me, watching me enjoy the striptease.
Her body is perfection. She’s curvy in all the right places with a hint of muscle in her back and upper arms, her thighs flexing and brushing against one another as the robe drops to the floor, her thick silky hair swishing above her full round ass as she smiles beautifully at me.
And then she turns, and I get a look at her breasts.
High, full, perky with dark-tipped nipples, matching the curly thatch of trimmed pubic hair between her thighs. She brushes her fingers over that, raising an eyebrow at me. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says softly. “I find some men like it this way. But if you’d like to shave me, or watch me shave—”
“No,” I tell her quickly. “There’s no need. I can appreciate that just as much as if you were smooth.”
Her face brightens a little at that, her mouth still curved seductively, and I watch as she gets into the tub, giving me a glimpse of the faintly swollen lips between her thighs, glistening with arousal.She’s turned on by this,I realize, and that only increases my own arousal. I like for the women I’m with to enjoy themselves, not to just endure it for the promise of the payout it will bring.
I step in behind her, groaning softly as I sink into the hot water, the bubbles frothing around us as Ayva leans back against me, between my spread thighs. Her head tilts back against my collarbone, and my cock rubs between us, swelling against the warmth of her smooth flesh and the rigid column of her spine.
“Mm,” she moans softly, reaching for my hand to place it on her breast. “You have a lovely cock. I can’t wait to have it inside of me.”
I throb against her in response, and she giggles, pressing my hand a little more firmly against her. “I love to be touched here,” she whispers, urging me to play with her breast.
I want to.Fuck,I want to. I want to do what I’ve done a hundred times before and lose myself in the pleasure of a willing, beautiful woman. The night stretches out in front of us, long and filled with hours that we could both use to pleasure each other to heights of ecstasy, and goddamn it Iwantthat.
I don’t want complications. I don’t want love. I don’t want a woman who makes me want to forget all other women.
For fuck’s sake, Lidiya is inanother man’s bedtonight. There’s no reason I can’t do the same.
Ayva’s breast fills my palm, full and warm and slick with soap, and I should squeeze it. Toy with her nipple until she moans, slide my hand between her thighs, tease her to her first climax of the night.
But I can’t.
Even my cock is softening, distracted with thoughts of Grisha’s hands on Lidiya and how much that makes me want to kill him myself. My chest tightens angrily, and I pull my hand away, pushing myself up out of the tub.
“Levin?” Ayva turns in the tub as I get out, back to her as I reach for a towel and begin angrily drying myself off. Maybe if I just take a moment—but I already know better. Never in my entire life have I not eagerly enjoyed any willing woman who caught my fancy. The fact that I’m out of the tub is, in and of itself, proof that things with Lidiya have already gone too far.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, still rubbing myself dry with the towel. “I must be more preoccupied than I realized. I’ll leave the money for you, of course, it’s not your fault that—”
Something presses into my side, sharp and pointed, and I wince.
Fuck.
“It’s not the money I’m concerned with,” she says smoothly. “And there’s a gun pointed at the back of your head as well, so don’t get any ideas, Levin Volkov.”
I hadn’t told her my last name.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Levin
There’s a knife at my side and a gun at the back of my head, and I hadn’t prepared for either.
This isn’t at all how I’d expected the night to go.
You’re getting soft. Distracted. You would have clocked her from a mile away, from the second she walked up to you in the bar, if you were on your game.
I know that’s true. And I also know that if I’m going to make it out of this alive, I’m going to have to move fast.
