Page 147 of Dance of Devils
Those very eyes were looking up at me this morning from between my spread legs as I perched on the edge of the kitchen island. Those very lips were wrapped around my clit as he tongued me to an explosive orgasm.
“I’m not here, of course,” Kir smiles easily at the company, dipping his chin. “I was merely in the neighborhood and wanted to take in a bit of your talents.”
Val nudges me in the ribs, bringing his head down toward me.
“Fuckinhugedick energy,” he murmurs under his breath. “I don’t care who BDE is. There’s nowayhe can match HDE over here.”
I groan to myself, feeling my face throb.
…Remembering the way Kir put me on my knees right after the aforementioned “lips on pussy” situation this morning and fucked my mouth with his huge cock until he came down my throat.
I know he’s not here to “take in a bit of our talents” this afternoon.
It’s to look me in the eye, just like he is right now, and remind me what happens to brats. BecauseI purposefully WAS oneearlier today.
In living with this man, I’ve started to learn some of his habits. For instance, healwaysfinishes everything on his plate, no matter how much food it is. I’d guess it's probably a holdover from being in a fucking Russian prison camp as a kid, and food not being guaranteed. How he maintains his athletic, chiseled physique is beyond me.
He also has this OCD way of “fixing” everything in front of him—making sure the silverware and napkin arejust sowhen he sits down for dinner, or that his laptop, pens, and documents are positionedexactlythe right way on his desk.
Another thing I’ve noticed is that when he’s got an important meeting, he makes a point to wear what I’ve realized are clearly a pair of “lucky” socks—very soft, black, with the initials “K. N.” embroidered on the ankle above a small skull.
Alsowhen an important meeting is on the docket, he has this thing where he makes sure there’snothingextra on his person, and that he’s only carrying what he absolutely needs. I’ve watched him take apenout of his pocket, or a receipt. Like just having them there are a distraction.
So today, since I was trying to be a brat, I fucked with him twice. First, I took those socks and hid them. And second, I left something stashed in his jacket pocket that Iknowhe discovered in the middle of his meeting.
The image of Kir holding court at a boardroom table and finding a lacy pink thong of mine in his pocket is both amusing and more than a little arousing.
As to why he’s here, that would be because of the socks and the panties, of course. Butalso, when he texted me earlier telling me he was going to “turn my ass red” over my shenanigans, I replied with a pic of my bare butt I snapped in the changing room along with the message “this ass?”
I didn't get a reply to that one.
Until now.
Madame Kuzmina has us set up for the various bits we’ve been rehearsing. As I get into position, I keep glancing over to where Kir is sitting in the center of the third row, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, his arms spread casually across the backs of the adjacent seats.
His eyes neveronceleave me during the next two hours. I can feel his gaze sliding over my skin. Teasing the back of my neck or the small of my back as I dance, peeling my leotard and tights away and feasting on every inch of me.
By the time Madama Kuzmina has finished torturing us, I’m panting, my body exhausted and spent. But the heat he ignites between my legs is still there. The skipped pulse when I glance over and see his dark devil eyes remains, too.
Everyone starts to leave the stage to head back to the changing rooms. Then I glance back at Kir one more time, my breath catches, and I’m instantly rooted to the spot.
His dark eyes lance into mine. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head side to side.
“I think I’m going to stick around. Maybe get some lifting in downstairs,” I say casually to Val and Evelina. Evie looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Seriously?” she blurts. “Afterthatsucky rehearsal?”
Val frowns. “Are you fucking high? That wasbrutaltoday. You can appreciate the severity of the situation with Evie using the wordsucky, which is basically her way of saying ‘fuck this fuck-ass shit’.”
Poor Evelina turns pink as she rolls her eyes. “Jerk.”
“See?” Val sighs. “You’re turning her into a real potty mouth here.”
I laugh as I punch him in the arm. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Speaking of,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “You were in the middle of telling me about your new guy earlier before Madame Sadism so rudely interrupted.”
Eveline turns, arching her brows at me. “Are you dating someone?!”
