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Before I can process her words, she’s crawling into my lap, her lush ass flush against my crotch. My hands instinctively grasp her hips.
"What are you doing?" I murmur.
With a sly grin, she turns her head and winks at me. “Is there a problem?”
If there is, the photographer doesn’t see it. “Perfect. Hold that.” He captures a few shots, then suggests, "Maybe a bit closer, Kira? Imagine you’re sharing a secret."
Following his guidance, she moves in even closer, her lips brushing against my earlobe. The warmth of her breath sends a shiver up my spine. Then she squirms in my lap, and my brain short-circuits. I release a hiss as she very deliberately readjusts her position, her soft ass nestling tight against my cock.
“You okay, honey?” she coos in my ear as Ivan clicks away. “You seem a little out of breath.”
Between clenched teeth, I bite out, “Maybe if you stop fidgeting like you have ants in your pants, I could have a moment to … pull myself together.”
With that, she provocatively rolls her hips against my groin in a slow, sensual motion, deliberately teasing. A deep, involuntary grunt escapes me as she shifts back in my lap, my cock swollen and weeping in my pants. Pretty sure my eyes roll up to the back of my head. The little vixen is playing a game—one that is rapidly spiraling out of my control.
"What is it you think you’re doing?"
“I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable?” She twists around, her gaze lazy and knowing, taking in my desperate state. She comes in close, her light floral scent filling my nostrils. It only adds to the maddening sensation. “Would you compare it to having a bucket of freezing cold water dumped on you in your sleep?”
“Kira, behave,” I spit out.
The only thing I can do to stop her unofficial lap dance is grab her hips and pin her tight against me. It might limit her wriggling, but it doesn’t help my ragged breaths, pumping heart, or the fact that I couldn’t stand up and walk away if I needed to.
My problem would be way too obvious.
“Man, this is smoking,” Ivan praises, scrolling through the pictures on his camera. "There’s real chemistry here.”
Maria leans in, and he shows her the snaps. She nods approvingly.
“Are we nearly done?” I grit. My knuckles whiten as I struggle to keep Kira still.
“Almost. Can you look up at Kira like she's the most precious thing in the world to you?”
I'm sorely tempted to tell Ivan to fuck off, but taking the path of least resistance seems wiser. The quicker I get this over with, the sooner I can distance myself from Kira.
I inhale a deep, cleansing breath. It's like prepping for a fight—I need to center myself. Pushing all other thoughts aside, I focus on getting through the next few minutes without losing control. Because that's the effect Kira has on me. Maybe if her body wasn’t so warm and soft, if she didn’t feel so damn perfect pressed against me, I could focus on something other than the urge to bury myself in her tight cunt.
"One more," Ivan instructs. "Almost like you’re going to kiss. I want to capture this tension."
Kira leans in towards me, her plump lips close but not touching mine. Her hot breath flutters against my mouth, and it takes everything in me not to capture her lower lip between my teeth.
“You will pay.” I keep my voice light and pleasant, but the threat is anything but.
Her expression remains unchanged, but the thumping pulse at her throat betrays the impact of my words. Maybe she’s imagining how I made her pay after she ran from me.
She lays her soft hand on my face, pressing into my jaw while her lips brush against mine like a ghost caress. The shudder of arousal that moves through my body is fierce. It’s the sweetest form of torture, and she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Her mouth hovers over my ear as she whispers, “This ismypayback, Maxim. I won’t be pushed around by you. I won't bend to your every whim or be bullied by you. I don’t know how it was with your first wife, but I’m not like that.”
I freeze, unease creeping over my body. Ripping myself from her hold, I search her eyes.
Why is she mentioning Irina? What does she know?
Somewhere beyond us, Ivan declares, “That’s perfect.”
The space around us comes alive, buzzing with the crew doing whatever it is that they need to do, but Kira and I don’t move as I watch her for a reaction. The weight of the past clings to me, making it hard to breathe.
“What do you know about my first wife?” My tone is arctic.
