Page 69 of The Wrong Monster

I can’t hold back anymore. The tension rocks through my lower abs as I follow her quickly, pulses of cum filling her pussy, the obscene sound only more satisfying.

* * *

Afterward, the room is quiet except for our breathing. Matilda lies beside me, staring at the ceiling.

“This is becoming a terrible habit,” she murmurs.

I almost smile. “Perhaps.”

But neither of us makes any effort to get up. Not yet. The rain is still drumming down on the slate roof, and somewhere outside my men are guarding the perimeter. They are waiting for us to finish the inspection, not aware that we’re trying to catch our breath, blood cooling in our veins.

Chapter 19

Matilda

I wake slowly, the unfamiliar surroundings coming into focus around me. For a few seconds, I don’t remember where I am.

Then I turn my head.

Vasily’s room.

Yesterday and last night come rushing back in pieces, and my stomach twists.

A mistake; twice. We fucked at the new lodge, and then when we got back to the lake house, but the tension somehow didn’t dissipate. I’ve never wanted a man more after having my way with him.

Maybe it has to do with the words he whispered while his hands controlled me. Good girl. Now you can take me.

A shiver goes through my body at the memory, and I curl my legs up, lying on my side. Crazy that I stayed here, in his room, after the second time. Crazy that I let it get this out of control.

I was just supposed to hunt him down and demand what I need for the next steps in the legal practice. Instead, I’m completely naked under cool sheets.

I sit up, determined to put as much distance between us as possible. I need to get back to my room and work. But Vasily is already awake. He’s standing near the window, dressed, his expression unreadable.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I.

Maybe that’s better.

He crosses the room, and before I can figure out what he’s doing, he touches me with a tenderness that doesn’t match the man I know.

One hand wraps around my ankle.

“What—” I manage to get out before he drags me, slowly and inexorably, to the edge of the bed. “Vasily, I⁠—”

He shhhs me and I’m almost tempted to kick him in the face, but then his hand slides up my calf. Barely there, his calloused fingers ghosting up to the soft spot behind my knee.

And I’m trembling all over again.

I stare at him as he gets on his knees. With his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his angular eyes hooded and focused on where my legs are slowly emerging from the sheet. With one graceful movement, he lifts the fabric and disappears beneath it.

My legs tense as his other hand grips my right thigh and slides me closer slowly. His beard is rough against my skin, his lips grazing a path upward, and then everything in me gives in.

My legs fall open.

He presses a kiss to my inner thigh.

And then presses his open mouth to my core, tongue lapping so gently my back comes off the mattress.

“V-Vas,” I stutter, fisting the sheets, unable to see what he’s doing to me.