Hell, I think I was nervous about her thoughts on my playing.
She nodded and I sat down on the bench, flipping open the top to expose the white keys. My hands ached to touch them, and I filtered through some of the songs in my head before I pressed my fingers to the right keys.
Naomi leaned against the piano as I started a hauntingly beautiful tune, Piano Concerto No. 2 by Rachmaninov, the music filling the air as soon as I started. It didn’t take me long to get lost in the press of the keys, the sound feeling like a second skin to me. How many times had I played this particular piece?
How many times had I lost myself in the music, the feel of the keys against the pads of my fingers as I pounded out the melody until it was perfection? The room was soundproof for a reason, after all, and many times before Naomi came into my life I had sat at this piano, pouring my frustrations out in song after song.
Now I was performing for her and not because I needed to vent anything at all. I was doing it because I wanted her to hear me play. This was the last piece of me, the piece that I wanted to give to her. After this, I had no more secrets from her.
And it didn’t feel all that bad to be opening up myself like this to Naomi.
I was so engrossed in playing that I didn’t feel her slip next to me until her hip butted against mine. “Krasivaya,” she murmured, her hand reaching between my legs. Beautiful.
I nearly missed a note as her hand slipped down the front of my joggers and gripped me lightly. “What are you doing?” I asked through clenched teeth.
Her lips brushed my earlobe. “You remember what you did to me at the theater that night?” she breathed into my ear, her soft words sending a shiver down her spine.
Oh, I remembered. The moment was burned in my brain.
“Because,” she continued, her hand sliding up my rock-hard cock. “I remember the way you made me feel.”
I was finding it hard to concentrate on a song that I knew like the back of my hand, my jaw clenched tightly as she teased the head with the pad of her thumb. “You keep doing that,” I forced out, my hands moving over the keys faster. “And I’m going to coat your fucking hand.”
Naomi nipped at my earlobe. “That’s the idea.”
Fuck me. I moved on to a darker tune, one that allowed me to bang at the keys to match her stroking my cock.
Soon her lips were pressing against my neck, her hand brushing over the sensitive areas that begged for her touch. Naomi was bold with her touch and I groaned, my hands nearly stilling on the keys as she applied pressure.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, moving down my hard length. “Or I will.”
“Tease,” I growled, switching to another song that didn’t take much thought to play.
Not that any of them did these days. I could play them in my sleep and often without any sort of sheet music to remind me. They were imprinted on my soul, these songs, a reminder of what I had lost the day I had stepped away from the piano.
I felt the build of my own orgasm tighten and thought about stopping just for the hell of it to test her.
But then again, I wanted to fucking cum and relieve some of this pressure inside.
“Come for me,” she whispered against my shoulder, her hand working me up and down quickly. “Give me what I want, Gavril.”
“What do you want?” I asked heavily, my fingers barely pressing the keys now.
“I want you to let go,” she answered as her hand lightly squeezed the head of my aching cock.
So I did, jerking against her touch as my seed poured from my cock in long, ropy spurts.
Finally, my hands stopped on the keys and I struggled to catch my breath. “Naomi.”
She slowly removed her hand, and I watched as she licked her fingers clean. “Salty,” she said, her finger brushing across her lower lip.
I reached out and cupped the back of her neck, giving her a hard kiss. She was going to be the death of me. I wanted her under me while I drove into her, reminding her that she was mine.
When I broke the kiss, her eyes were partially closed and her lips red from my assault. “I want you,” I told her, my chest heaving. “I want only you, Naomi.”
Naomi opened her eyes, and a smile crossed her face. “I want you too, Gavril,” she whispered. “I want you to make love to me.”
My breath hitched. Make love to her? All I knew was how to fuck. I hadn’t made love since, well, since Katya, and even then, it hadn’t felt like it was on a deeper level.
Not since I had found Naomi and had known that she was going to be the end of them all.
Naomi rose from the bench and walked over to the couch, pulling my shirt over her head. “Come make love to me, Gavril,” she said softly as she laid down on the couch, opening her legs in invitation.
I rose from the bench and stripped off my joggers, my cock already rising to attention once more. “You are going to be the death of me,” I growled as I made my way over to her.