I snatched it up, wanting him to see my heavy br**sts.

When they bobbed with his next thrust, he grunted the order: “Play.”

My hands flew to them, cupping.

“Lovely Natalya.” He rolled his hips again. The silk was now soaking. “You’re going to wet me through your panties?” He ran two fingers along the damp underside of his shaft before returning it against me.

I moaned. “Why won’t you have sex with me?”

“Don’t forget this is punishment.” A harder, crueler thrust. “And you’re not for me. Now, show me how hard those ni**les can get.”

I tugged at them.

“Harder.”

I did, moaning when I felt his thumbs at my slit, opening me, so close to breaching me with them. “Inside, Sevastyan. Put your fingers inside me.”

“Have you ever used one of those vibrators to penetrate yourself?”

My face heated, a ridiculous reaction considering what we were doing. But I answered honestly, “Yes. I like to.”

He groaned, bucking faster. “Then why were you a virgin?”

Between panting breaths, I said, “Hadn’t met . . . the right guy.”

“Yet you think you have now?” He started a series of swift pumps, sawing his shaft back and forth over my wet clit.

“Sevastyan!” I could almost pretend that he was f**king me, his stiff rod pillaging my core. He’d f**k and f**k until I was forced to come around his cock. Until he’d forced me to milk that thick length . . . “Ah, God, I’m about—”

He covered my mouth with one of his hands, muffling my screams. He slipped two fingers between my lips, treating me to my own juices. “Suck,” he ordered.

My head fell back and I sucked in delight, imagining those fingers were his cock. Under his sharp thrusts, I began to orgasm. I screamed, I sucked, I never wanted it to end.

Clenching, spasming, each wave brought unbearable pleasure—and a frenzied hunger to be filled. . . .

When I was too sensitive to take any more, he pulled back and pressed my knees toward my naked br**sts. With me rocking back against the wall, ankles on his shoulders, he yanked my panties to my thighs, baring me. Gaze locked on my swollen flesh, he fisted himself, masturbating that big cock.

Neck straining, arm muscles bulging, he grated, “Watch me come on you.” He was aiming between my legs. The idea of him ejaculating there made me melt all over again, my pu**y quivering and contracting as he watched—

“Fuck, woman, I see you!” Choking back a yell, he began to spurt heavy ropes of cum.

When scorching se**n lapped against my sensitive lips, I moaned, spreading my legs in welcome.

Between gnashed teeth, he hissed, “My greedy girl wants more?” He squeezed his cock, and another ribbon lashed my mons. Over and over, he pumped himself until his shaft was spent, pulsating but empty. . . .

Dazed, wanting to kiss him, I reached for him.

But he pushed my hands away. “Ah-ah.” He palmed me between my thighs—and began slathering his seed into my flesh.

Why? What? How could that be so sexy? As ever, I had no idea what he would do next. Though my arousal had renewed with a surge, I sat docile, allowing him to coat me.

After working my panties back into place, he used his whole palm to give the sodden crotch a good slap—which made me buck for another. With that same look of masculine satisfaction, he said, “You’ll feel me tomorrow.”

Wicked, sexy, domineering man. I couldn’t imagine another male could excite me as much as he did. I needed to wrap my arms around him, to whisper in his ear how he drove me crazy.

But he simply zipped up and turned to go, to leave me like this. “Better focus your attention on someone you can actually manipulate. Speaking of which, have fun with Filip tomorrow.”

When he reached the door, I gave my head a clearing shake. “That’s all you have to say?”

Without turning around, he said, “Do not ever tease me again. I only play games when I make the rules.”

“Rules, Siberian?” Now that I wasn’t stupid with lust, I didn’t love his domineering self. “You can make them, if only to watch me break them.”

“If you tease me again, pet, you will not enjoy the consequences.” He left me, shutting the door behind him.

Note to self: Tease Sevastyan at earliest opportunity, investigate “consequences.”

In that closet, still warmed—and wet—from his attentions, I decided two things:

Aleksandr Sevastyan had to be my first lover.

And I’d let him think he made the rules.

Chapter 16

“You’re Sevastyan, right?” I said with full-on sarcasm when I ran into him downstairs a week later. “Didn’t I see you in the closet the other day?”

Since then, I’d made zero progress with my Sevastyan-pops-cherry plan, a plan that had since been retired. Which was only to be expected since he refused to talk to me, aside from superficial greetings.

He raised a brow at my comment, falling into step beside me as I made my way to Paxán’s study.

I frowned at him. For the last seven days, we’d never been alone. He’d always been close by—yet achingly distant.

The morning after the maid’s closet, I’d awakened smiling again, looking forward just to seeing him. I’d called Jess and told her all about him, about everything. She’d focused on one detail: “Nat, you’ve still got your skin tag?” I’d assured her not for long, my friend.