After exchanging pleasantries, he asks, “What do you do now?”
Thinking about what Evangeline said about making connections, I tell him, “I’m the owner of Valor Cleaning Services.”
“Ah.” He nods. “Beautiful and a head for business.”
I cock my head at his obvious flattery. “Are you looking for a new housekeeper?”
The bartender hands him a drink on a napkin. Theo takes it and swirls it, ice clinking in his glass, before taking a sip. “Are you volunteering?”
Andrej reappears by my side then, shooting daggers at Theo with his eyes. “What do you want, Latsis?”
Theo is unaffected by the glare, which surprises me, but then he doesn’t seem the type to get easily riled. “Just introducing myself to your girlfriend.”
The words make my stomach flutter, but Andrej immediately corrects him. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He grabs my elbow. “Come on. There’s more to see.”
I wave goodbye to Theo, who winks conspiratorially at me, and follow Andrej back to the elevators. He’s sulky, and I think maybe he didn’t like me having people to talk to that aren’t him, especially someone of the male variety. I consider teasing him about it, but the elevator doors open and people pile on. Andrej stands in the back corner and pulls me against his front, and soon, we’re surrounded by giggling girls and men in expensive suits.
I’m about to ask him where we’re going next when I feel his hand on my leg, gathering my dress so that it rises in the back. When I look over my shoulder at him, his eyes are straight ahead, his mouth a stern line. He is the picture of indifference.
The elevator doors open and more people get on, pressing me closer against him. I can feel the hard length of his cock against the top of my ass, making warmth flood my core. He continues pulling up the skirt until I feel cool air on my bare ass, exposing that I did indeed follow his every direction. His hand slides around to the front, and he gives a sharp inhale as his fingers brush the bare skin of my pussy.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my ear.
He parts my folds and circles my clit with one finger. I give a small whimper that draws a confused look from a girl next to me. I shoot her a strained smile, and she turns away.
As the elevator descends, stopping every now and then to let people off, Andrej works my clit with single-minded focus, seemingly determined to bring me to a screaming orgasm in front of all these people. I think he wants me to be embarrassed, to push him away, to stop him, but I haven’t been this turned on in years. Maybe never.
I pant against him, closing my eyes. A few more floors, and we’re finally alone. The doors slide shut just as my pleasure peaks and I crash over the edge. My legs go weak, and Andrej holds me up with one arm under my breasts. I grab onto the wall, nails scratching the wood paneling.
“Jesus Christ,” I gasp as the tremors subside.
Still holding me, he slips around and presses the very last button, which reads “B.”
“Are we going to the basement?” I ask, breathlessly.
His smile is not exactly kind when he answers. “The dungeon.”
Chapter Nine
Andrej
We burst into the private room like our old selves—two insatiable teenagers. As soon as we’re through the door, Valya presses me to the wall and our mouths crash together with bruising urgency. When my tongue sweeps past her parted lips, she moans. I tangle one hand in her ponytail and tip her head back, lowering my mouth to suck and nip at the sensitive skin of her neck.
Nothing is going according to plan. I was going to be cool and calm, and Valya would walk into this room and see the spanking bench and St. Andrew’s cross and four-poster bed and cower. I was going to break Valya once and for all, show her that I really am as awful as I make myself out to be. There is no goodness left inside of me, no matter what she believes.
But when it comes to her, I can’t seem to keep myself under control.
Reaching around, I unzip the top of her dress and pull the front off of her chest, exposing her breasts which have been taunting me all night through the lace of her top. I knew what I was doing when I picked this dress, how beautiful she would look in it. It’s my own fault, really. I drop my attention to her breasts, tasting the small mounds and taut, dark buds.
“Oh, God, Andy,” she moans, twisting her fingers in my hair. It feels so good to have her touch me again that I don’t even bother to correct her.
That’s when I realize that I can’t let it continue this way. I push off the wall and walk her backward until she’s against the end of the four-poster bed. Grabbing one of her hands, I find the cuff hanging from the post and buckle it around her wrist. She doesn’t struggle as I fasten the other one, rendering her naked top half immobile, her arms in a V over her head. I stand back and survey her with what I hope is calm indifference, but she looks fucking fantastic.
She wriggles under my gaze. Her legs are just barely long enough for her feet, still in those sexy nude high heels, to touch the floor.
“Please, Andy,” she whimpers.
“Please what?” I ask, approaching her.
“Please touch me.”
“Touch you? Like this?” I drag a finger lightly down her neck, tracing a circle around each breast and then her bellybutton, stopping short of diving beneath her dress, which is still around her waist.
“More,” she says.
I lean in and brush my lips over her neck. “Where?”
She tips her head back and closes her eyes. “Everywhere.”
Reaching around her, I grasp the skirt in two hands and rip it right down the seam. Valya gasps, her eyes wide as she looks up at me.
I toss the remnants of the dress aside. “I bought it,” I say with a shrug.
Instead of being upset, she laughs. It’s a beautiful, disarming sound that makes me want to gag her.
She stands naked in front of me now. Her pale skin is as unmarred as it was fifteen years ago, begging for me to mark it. With that in mind, I suck and bite my way from her neck to her legs, kneeling in front of her. I don’t normally do this—I’ve been told I’m a selfish lover, like I give a shit—but Valya’s sweet pussy has always been the exception. I love making her come; I would live between her legs if she didn’t remind me of all the ways I’ve failed.
She tries spreading her legs, but she can’t go too far or she’ll lose her footing, so I lift one of her legs and pull it over my shoulder. Opening her folds with one hand, I dive down, my tongue sliding from back to front and circling her tiny, sensitive bud. She cries out wordlessly, and I almost regret binding her hands because I like how she tugs my hair when she’s excited. But that alone is reason enough to keep her bound.
I lick and touch and taste, and whenever I feel her getting close, I pull away and instead nip and suck at her thighs. After the third time, she’s practically in tears.
“Andy, please,” she cries.
“Please what?” I ask, looking up at her.
Her cheeks are flushed red, and there’s a sheen of sweat on her head. Her arms must be sore with as much as she’s pulling against her restraints, but she doesn’t complain. At least, not about that.
“Make me come, please,” she begs.