“Lenin.” I hear her sink into the bath. “Why won’t you, um…relieve yourself?”
With a heavy swallow, I drop my head against the wall, although I’d like to slam it full force. “My body has been creating this seed since I met you, so every drop inside my balls is precious. I can only give you this particular load once.”
There’s some shifting in the water and I imagine her soaping her pussy. “I can’t believe you made balls sound so romantic,” she says a little breathlessly.
Despite my painful arousal, my lips turn up at the ends. “I’m glad you think so.” I allow myself one more stroke through my pants and remove my hand, bracing it on the wall. “Do you mind if I get comfortable?”
“Of course not.”
I unbutton my shirt and free it from my waistband. Knowing she is going to see my tattoos, I hesitate, but hiding them forever isn’t realistic, so I exhale and remove my shirt, watching her over my shoulder for a reaction. I don’t get what I’m expecting. Instead of fear, I see curiosity. And attraction. Yes, definitely that. She shifts in the bathtub and I growl low in my chest when her pink nipples harden amidst the bubbles. “Do you like what you see, Margaret?”
She nods slowly, her bee-stung lips parting on a shaky breath. “Some of those tattoos seem kind of…symbolic. Like badges of honor.”
“More duty than honor, in my case,” I say softly. “Someday I will explain them to you, angel.” I pause. “You have nothing to fear from me. Ever. You know that?”
Again, she nods. “I can’t be scared of you when you make me feel so powerful,” she murmurs. “You could take what you want from me so easily, but you let me believe I’m in control of what happens between us.”
I notice a shadow cross her face and want to banish it. “There’s more.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes darken. “This power you give me…it makes me want to test it. Like teasing you in the restaurant or…undressing for you. I never would have pegged myself for a tease, but…”
“But you’re only that way with me. You know I will not break.”
“Yes. So it’s safe to try and break you. I’m awful aren’t I?”
“There is nothing awful about you, Margaret. You’re magnificent. And you may torture me to your heart’s content. Lenin can take it.” I don’t know what to do with my hands suddenly. “It means you like me, when you do this teasing, so…it is very much worth the frustration.”
“I like you all the time.” After the smallest hesitation, she sets aside the soap and stands, sending a waterfall of suds down her front. My cock jerks, releasing a spurt of semen down the leg of my pants. And a second one breaks past my body’s defenses when she says, “I want to start kissing now, Lenin.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Margaret
What am I going to do about this man?
Every time I remind myself to be wary, he proves himself trustworthy. Or he says something that calms me, makes me laugh, feel special, sexy. Important.
Did I mention he’s stupid hot?
In his suit, he was a ten. Now he’s just walking toward me like King of the Tattooed Bad Boys and every step makes muscles bunch and roll beneath his inked skin. If someone ran head first into the muscular planes of his chest, they would get a concussion. His nipples are reddish brown, puckered like mine, because I’m pretty sure we’re both excited about the kissing. No, he’s definitely excited. His erection is going to bust the zipper of his pants at any moment. It has to be painful, but he’s still sauntering like a badass, that jaw flexing, his eyes smoky and intense as they drift over my naked body.
Yeah, I want to kiss now.
Lenin stops in front of me and drops his hand, massaging the bulge in his pants. “You’re not teasing me, are you, angel? You’re going to let me lie with your naked body and kiss that sweet mouth?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He groans, long and low, that hand tight on his sex, moving, squeezing. “Life with you is going to be beautiful torture, Margaret.”
Before I can respond, he grips my hips and plucks me out of the bathtub. My feet have barely touched the floor when I’m swept up in Lenin’s arms and being carried toward the bedroom. My heart raps against my ribs but not from nerves. I’m one hundred percent positive Lenin won’t cross the line we’ve drawn, no matter what. Even if I tempt him out of his mind.
And God, I crave the chance to tempt him to cross the line.
Who knew I was such a tormentor?
I can’t help it, though. His willpower has given me permission to embrace a part of myself I didn’t know existed. Maybe it never would have existed without him.