Page 180 of The Pucking Arrangement

But I turn. Slowly.

“Are we doing bondage now?” I murmur.

I hear him chuckle as he wraps the silk over my eyes, tying it in place. A hot kiss lands just below my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“Is that something that interests you?” His voice is thick with amusement—and something darker. “Because with you,solnyshko, I’m game for anything.”

His hands slide down my body, tracing the peaks of my nipples through my dress. A sharp pinch makes me gasp.

“I’ll be sure to reward you for your obedience later.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath. “You know, most kidnappers don’t take their victims to luxury buildings with doormen.”

That gets a low laugh. “Is that what’s happening? I’m kidnapping you?”

“Well, you did just blindfold me and refuse to tell me what’s going on.”

His hands settle on my hips, fingers pressing in. “Kidnapping usually implies unwillingness.” He slides his hand under my dress, finding my panties, pushing them aside, and sliding a finger inside of me. “But your sweet cunt is telling me another story entirely.” He chuckles and takes his hand out, adjusting my dress back into place.

I swallow hard. I should be arguing. Instead, my pulse is hammering like a drum, my legs shaky.

The elevator glides to a stop. Dmitri steps out, tugging me with him into a hallway. He leads me to the left, and I hear keys rattling.

“Come,” he says, taking my hand.

Chapter37

The Only Dream That Matters

Dmitri

“No peeking.”

“I’m literally blindfolded,” Erin huffs, her fingers gripping mine with surprising strength for someone who constantly complains about her weak left pinky. “If I peek any less, I’ll be unconscious.”

“Just making sure,solnyshko.” My hand rests firmly at the small of her back as I guide her out of the elevator. “Three more steps.”

She stumbles slightly, and I catch her, steadying her against my chest. Her hair smells like vanilla and rosin—that combination I’ve come to associate with home. Withher.

She exhales sharply. “I swear to God, Dmitri, if this is some elaborate prank?—”

“We’re here.” My fingers tighten around the key, the metal still unfamiliar in my palm. A new weight. A new reality. One I hope to God doesn’t send her running.

I unlock the door, pushing it open with slow, deliberate ease. “Ready?”

She crosses her arms. “I’ve been ready for twenty minutes,” she grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it. Just the familiar impatience that makes my chest ache. That makes me want to spend the rest of my life hearing it.

She shifts slightly, tilting her chin toward me. “If I go in there, you have to promise to actually talk to me.”

My voice softens. Because this is it. There’s no more delaying. It’s a make-or-break moment.

“Yes.”

I slide the blindfold away, watching her face closely.

And then she stills. Completely.

Her breath catches, her hands frozen midair like she’s not sure whether to reach for something or let go entirely.

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