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“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I roll my eyes but flash him a cheeky smile, getting into a position a few feet in front of him. Leo crouches down, his jaw held tight, his expression serious, focused. I was hoping to distract him by wearing a tiny sports bra that does amazing things for my boobs and leggings that show off every dip and curve of my ass, but I’ve come to learn that there is no distracting Leo when he’s hell-bent on something.
And right now, he’s hell-bent on teaching me how to defend myself with a knife. “First thing. You need to grip the knife firmly. Put your thumb on top of the handle for maximum control.” He demonstrates for me.
I hold the switchblade away from my body, my hand trembling a little. I’ve never held one before, and the weight of it feels strange in my grip. But I do as he says, wrapping my fingers around the handle and positioning my thumb carefully as he watches.
“Good,” he says. “Now, watch my movements closely. I’m going to show you a downward strike.” He swings his knife in a smooth, fluid motion, making it look effortless, when I know it’s not. “It’s best used in close quarters, when your attacker is right in front of you. You aim for the head, neck, or chest—those hits will cause the most damage and give you a chance to escape.” He nods at the weapon in my hand. “Now you try.”
“Leo.” I can’t help but laugh. “This is overkill. I’m not like you or my brother. I don’t live a dangerous life, and I don’t plan on it. I’m not going to walk around with a switchblade in my purse.”
Leo runs a hand over his face, frowning. “Sometimes danger finds you, butterfly. You know this, we’ve talked about it.”
“But you’ll be there to protect me, right?” I give him my best flirty smile, the one I know he can’t resist. Except apparently, he can, because he’s quick to take a step back.
“Stop right there, vixen. I know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, and bite down on my bottom lip. “How about I make you a deal? I’ll take this self-defense lesson seriously, if afterwards you teach me something I actually want to learn.”
He smirks. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“How to deep throat.”
His lips tighten, and his eyes flare with interest. I’ve given Leo blow jobs before, many blow jobs over the last couple weeks, but it’s more like me tentatively exploring his cock. I’ve loved it, I’m pretty sure he has, too, but I want to know how to take him deep. I want him to fuck my throat. I want it to be dirty and depraved. I want to feel like his whore, not his best friend’s little sister.
“So what do you say?” I urge him.
He inhales sharply, a pained look crossing over his features. “What are you doing to me?” He flicks the switchblade in his hand, open and closed, open and closed, considering my words. With a final nod of his head, he sheaths his blade and steps towards me, slanting his lips over mine. With a light flick of his tongue, he enters my mouth, driving the kiss deeper with the perfect amount of tongue. His mouth is hot and hungry, a promise of what’s to come.
He pulls away, holding me close, studying my face carefully. “I’ve been holding back, not wanting to scare you. At least not yet.”
“I know,” I say. “But I want everything with you Leo.” I don’t even know what I am asking for, just that I cravemorefrom him.
His thumb hooks into my mouth, pulling my lower lip down. “This fucking mouth,” he breathes, his eyes dip to my lower lip as if he was fighting the urge to suck on it. Or bite it. “There is no more perfect vision in my mind than you choking on my cock. I hope this mouth is ready for me, butterfly.” His eyebrows raise in suggestion, his fingers trail from my lips, down over my throat to rest on my collarbone.
Arousal builds in my belly, making my clit throb. Oh man, how am I going to focus on the rest of this lesson? But he’s giving me what I want, so I smile at him, even as I feel a flush spread over my skin. “I’d say you’ve got a deal.”
The rest of the lesson can’t go by quickly enough. If Leo is anxious for our other lesson, he doesn’t show it. He watches me carefully, offering advice and corrections as needed. “Keep your elbow in,” he says, guiding my arm into a better position. “And don’t forget to follow through with your strike.” He’s as patient and conscious as he always is about everything. So I give it my all, too.
At first, swinging the knife in the air, pretending an attacker is close to me, feels awkward, but eventually I get into the groove, my movements becoming sure and more coordinated. I may never relish the idea of fighting, but I can reluctantly admit that it is important to be able to protect myself, even in the real world.
Finally, when my limbs feel like Jell-O and I can’t maintain proper form, Leo takes the knife from my hand, declaring our first lesson officially over. “You did great,” he says, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You’re a natural with the knife.”
I can’t help but puff out my chest a bit, pride warming my cheeks. “Now onto the other lesson.”
Leo laughs at my eagerness, but he seems just as happy as I am to go upstairs to his room. We’ve had the estate practically to ourselves this summer with the pakhan, Andrei, and Yulian in Russia and Daniil partying with friends in LA. Sure, there is staff around, but they are paid to be discreet. Daniil knows of course, but my overprotective brother would flip out so it’s better to keep our… whatever this is… quiet.
Mama is also here, but she never leaves her quarters. It’s the one sore spot in this otherwise magical time. I visit her every day, but it’s hard to see her wasting away. We’ve never been close—she’s always been more concerned with status and money than raising her children—but since Papa’s death, she’s retreated into herself. I’ve done my best to help her, but it’s a battle I’m losing to her demons. And it eats me up inside.
But right now, as we head up to Leo’s rooms on the third floor, I refuse to think about any of this. I only want to think about Leo and what we’re about to do. He makes it easy when we enter his room and he pushes me down on the bed, stripping his clothes off like they are on fire.
I prop my head up on my hand and watch him, because his body is a work of friggin’ art.
“What are you waiting for, butterfly? Get naked,” he demands, impatience lacing his words.
Rolling onto my back, I shoot him my best teasing glare. “I thought you could do it for me.”
“If I do, say goodbye to your pretty gym clothes.”
“Goodbye,” I echo as he advances on me. In one brutal pull, my bra comes apart. I didn’t know it was possible to rip spandex with arm strength alone, but Leo is like the Hulk when he’s all horned up. This is not the first piece of clothing I’ve lost to his impatience.
