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“There’s always a choice.”
I nod. “You know what? You’re right. I gave you one last night. You chose wrong. Never too late to fix your mistakes, though.”
His lips part slightly and his tongue flickers out. He’s panting, though I’m not sure he even realizes it. His whole body vibrates with anger, with frustration, with lust. At least I hope it’s with lust. Although the Lord knows I’ve got enough of that for the both of us. I feel like I’m about to combust.
“That’s not going to happen.” I can’t tell if he’s talking to me or himself.
I sigh. “Disappointing. Looks like I’ll have to get myself off again. Want me to send you that video, too?”
“Paige—”
“Or we can just cut out the middleman and you can watch me right now.” I drag my finger down his chest, my gaze following the path down to the obvious bulge between his legs. “What do you say?”
His chest rises and falls once, twice. Then he hooks his finger around the tiny string holding my swimsuit together and rips it. The material flutters to the floor; my breasts spill loose. His breathing hitches with desire.
But still, he refuses to touch me.
“Get on the bed and spread those legs for me like a good littlekiska.”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this turned on in my life. I do as he says and lie back on the bed, keeping my eyes on him the entire time.
But I don’t wait for further instruction. I suck on my fingers and then roll them over my nipples before sliding my palm down my torso.
Misha pulls up a chair and sits in front of me. He watches my every move with an almost clinical gaze. I don’t even think he’s blinking.
“Touch that tight little slit for me, princess.”
His voice is guttural, primal. My swimsuit bottoms are soaked with my desire. I push them aside. The first wisp of cool air on my pussy makes me suck in a breath. I gasp again when my fingertip dances along my lip.
“Good. Go deeper. I want to see how you like it.”
I run my fingers over my clit and gasp. But I wantmore. As satisfying as this feels right now, it’s not nearly as satisfying as feeling him inside me would be.
“I want to see your cock.”
“No,” he says with finality. “Only good girls get my cock. You are anything but good. Now, lick your nipples for me.”
With one hand still in my pussy, I lean forward and suck my nipple into my mouth. I flick my tongue across my nipple a few times until my neck complains. Then I let my hand take over and slump back on the pillow. I look at him—never anywhere else—through the curtain of my eyelashes, the same way I looked into the camera lens last night.
“Misha…” I whimper.
“Keep going,” he commands. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t want to get off this way again. I want more. I want him.
“I want you. Please…”
“Don’t beg,” he snarls. “Begging won’t help. I told you already—bad girls get nothing.”
“I’ll be good then. I swear I’ll be good.”
“You haven’t been so far,” he says. “You don’t listen.”
I bite back a moan. “Then punish me. Help me be better. Teach me what you want.”
He growls a low, dangerous sound. Then he stands up.
Finally. Thank God.
