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From the locked privacy of the bathroom, I set about freshening up. My hair had never had volume like this before. I scrunched it between my hands and smirked at my reflection. Making short work of the necessary bladder morning routine, I finger-brushed my teeth with his toothpaste.
Over the sound of the faucet, Viktor’s voice sounded. I stepped toward the door, hearing his rough, harsh tone speaking in Russian. Words flickered through my mind—something about it not being a good time to call?
“Wait one minute, I can’t speak openly right now,”I heard him say through the door.
Finishing quickly, I emerged from the bathroom, only to watch the glass door slide closed on his balcony. Viktor was now wearing his boxer briefs and pacing the short length of the deck as he talked animatedly into the phone. The quality of the glass door cut off all sound.
Feeling a little foolish, I slid into bed and twisted into the sheets. The room service menu was poor company, and it was too early to go back to my room and dress, even though part of me longed to run away.
When the door ripped back open, I jumped, feeling guilty to be clutching my shoes. I hoped he didn’t notice.
“Sorry,” Viktor muttered. Gone was the playful man I’d spent the last few days with. This was the scary monster I’d caught glimpses of over the years. His gaze dropped to my shoes. “Where are you going?”
“You were busy, and—”
“Briana.” He crossed the distance in two steps. “Don’t go.”
I swallowed hard and dropped the shoes. “Is everything okay?” I asked, sitting up and letting the bed sheet fall away.
Viktor dropped his gaze to my breasts. His eyes darkened, which only intensified their scariness. “It’s just business stuff,” he rasped.
“Nothing good.”
He nodded once. “They need me back ASAP.”
My chest knotted tight. “I see.”
“Give me another second to freshen up? Then we can talk, okay?”
So, there was more to it than that. Right now I didn’t care, but I nodded, and he stalked around the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. The faucet turned on, and after a few moments the toilet flushed.
I’m not doing this for something permanent,I reminded myself. I was doing it because it felt good in the moment. And dammit, I wanted one more stolen moment. Talking could wait, I wanted him—now.
When he came out, I could see his hard bulge straining against his black underwear. “I have bad news.”
“I guessed as much.”
“Look, Bri—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t talk.”
He narrowed his gaze.
Jerking my chin to his boxers, I added, “Do you want me to do something about that? We’ll consider it bona fide after all the negotiating we did last night.”
“Oh, fucking yes, babe.” Viktor prowled forward.
Grabbing a pillow, I slid to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. I ran both my palms over the thick, corded muscles of his thighs. I always knew he was muscular, but damn, knowing and seeing were two different things. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Whatever you were talking about on the phone, you must forget about it. For a little bit, alright? We’ll talk later.”
He nodded once, jaw clenched tight.
Unable to hold his fierce gaze, I dropped my attention to what I was doing. I freed his cock from his underwear, peeling the fabric down his legs. That gorgeous dick sprang free, twitching with need. I licked my lips, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but Viktor groaned at the sight. He muttered something undistinguishable in Russian while gently running a hand through my hair.
Leaning over him, I flicked the tip of his cock with my tongue. A bead of precum leaked out. The second time I leaned forward, I pushed the tip into my mouth, sucking hard.
Viktor cursed and started talking, but the English was soon lost to his native tongue. He spoke to me, a long string of poetic words. It was archaic, almost dialect. Concentrating on what I was doing while attempting a translation was impossible in this position, and I wanted him to enjoy the moment. Ignoring his words but lulled by his voice, I pulled him down my throat, then reversed the motion. Not letting him leave my mouth, I continued the slow strokes. He kept his hand threaded into my hair; the other he used to reach down and knead my breasts.
I moaned, taking him deeper. Bracing myself by digging my fingers into his hips, I quickened the pace.
