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She bundles up the back of my shirt in her fists for stability. “You better not drop me. An injury could ruin my career.”
“I wouldn't dream of it. Trust me.”
I move with purpose, kneading her ass and biting marks against her hip as I easily navigate the halls. My penthouse is modestly decorated. Bright during the day thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows, but plenty cozy once the sun has set.
When we finally get to the bedroom, I place Nikita on the bed with the utmost care, moving quickly to peel off the rest of her clothes. She looks good against my navy-blue bed sheets, her lithe arms and legs contrasting gorgeously. She's a damn work of art.
I stand at the edge of the bed, drinking in every possible detail. I’ve been thinking about this since the morning I dropped her off at that dingy Abramtsevo train station. She lied about living there, but I can’t blame her. Never could. We were complete strangers. We weren’t supposed to meet again.
The elegant length of her neck and easy slope of her shoulders. Her pretty, small breasts I’m dying to fill my palms with. I love her muscles, strong and slender, refined from years of dedicated training. I adore the valley of her belly, the dip of her waist, the thickness of her thighs.
She looks at me without fear and with admiration. I can't remember the last time someone looked at me like I was more than some beast. A hideous monster to fear, to run away or cower from. But Nikita isn't like that. From the moment we met, she trusted me. Even when our paths crossed again here in Moscow, she treated me with kindness, spoiling me with her smiles and her bubbly laugh.
I hope she understands what I'm about to do to her… It's to thank her.
And to push her to the brink.
I press one knee against the edge of the mattress and grip her ankles, spreading her legs just so. Her feet, I notice, are covered in a myriad of bandages. It's quite the sight, physical reminders of all the hours she spends on the tips of her toes. Nikita nibbles on her bottom lip, more bashful than I expected her to be given all we’ve done so far.
“Don't stare,” she mumbles sheepishly. “It's the curse of a ballerina. Not very pretty to look at without our pointe shoes on.”
I hum, pressing a kiss to the inner corners of her ankles, then her calves, then her knees. “You're beautiful, Nikita. Every inch of you.” I release her legs and remove my watch, setting it on the bedside table. “Now, remind me, how flexible are you?”
She squeezes her legs closed, smiling at me coyly. “Very.”
I shake my head in disapproval, tapping her knees. “Show me. Like you did before. Pretend it’s our first night together. We’re starting from scratch.”
With a timid little whimper, Nikita does exactly as I ask, spreading her legs into a perfect split, putting herself on full display for me. A feral heat blooms deep within my core, my jaw practically aching as my craving for her flares.
This time when I settle between her thighs, I use my fingers in tandem with my tongue. Not wanting to overwhelm, I start with only one digit, curling my finger back in a beckoning motion to seek out her sweet spot. I know precisely when I've found it. Nikita suddenly gasps, her back arching as pleasure surges through her body, her fingers tightly gripping the sheets.
“Oh!”
“Feel good?” I grunt against her, determined to see her fall apart. I press a second finger into her, marveling at how well she takes me. “Come on, Nikita. Let me watch you come on my fingers.”
“Leo—”
I bring her to the edge of her climax, tasting her through the first waves of pleasure. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, her hot walls throbbing with earned release. I waste no time in flipping her over.
I wrap my tie around her wrists, binding her. I give her no chance to breathe, practically caging her in with my body as I plunge my fingers back into her. This new angle grants me better access, the tips of my fingers sweeping over her sweet spot again and again until she’s practically melting beneath my touch. Nikita groans against the sheets, her hair a mess with sweat dripping down her elegant back.
“More” she pleads with me. “Please, I’m so close.”
Who in their right mind could ever deny her?
When she comes on my fingers, she screams into my pillow, her whole body shaking. I am just as breathless as she, drunk on her beauty and high on her ecstasy.
“That’s only three. How many more before you finally crack?”
“Leo—”
I flip her over yet again, strapping her wrists over her head to the headboard. She’s on full display for me, milky skin practically begging to be marked. Even though I have ensured she’s drowning in pleasure, I can still see a challenge in her eyes. I know she won’t actually break. There’s a fire in Nikita that excites me. That tells me she can handle so much more.
“Take your clothes off,” she says to me, panting. “It’s only fair.”
I shake my head. “You’re the one tied up. You’re in no position to tell me what to do.”
Nikita bucks her hips, her desperation dripping from every pore. “Leo, come on.”
