Page 26 of Her Russian Master
Last week, she’d stopped defending her decision and started to think outside the box.So Yuri wouldn’t fit in her existing life.There wasn’t anything so special about that life anymore, anyway.Especially not without him.So where would he fit?
What if she just allowed herself to dream?What else could she do with her life?How could Yuri and his ridiculous offer of money change things for her?And she’d come up with a wild, crazy, ridiculous idea.
Ibiza.
She’d wanted to go to Ibiza since the first day she put on headphones and learned how to spin.A DJ’s Mecca.A raver’s paradise.Beaches, ocean.Music.
So she vowed, if she got the chance to see Yuri again, which wasn’t looking good—she would pitch him on the idea.
Why not?Life was short.Great things couldn’t happen without risk, right?
Yuri was crazy and dark and insanely intense and her life felt empty without his presence.They’d spent one night together, but it seemed like a year, or at least a month.He’d become as necessary to her as breath.
She put a song on.It was too early to beckon the club goers out to the dance floor.They didn’t have enough drinks in them yet, and the club capacity hadn’t reached critical mass.So she picked a beat that would make them feel alive, sense the excitement of the night to come, but not encourage them to shoot their wads yet.
She glanced up to see how full the club was and froze.
In his usual chair, at the table facing the DJ booth, sat her Russian.He wore the familiar, tortured expression as he burned her with the intensity of his regard.
She yanked the headphones off and shoved open the booth door, which still hung on its hinges from when he’d busted it down.She clomped over to Yuri’s table, her white patent leather Doc Martins giving her extra badass points, which was good, because she was already losing her nerve.
She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.“Two weeks.You don’t fuck a girl and disappear for two weeks.”
His hands launched and grasped her hips, turning her around and pulling her onto his lap.“Two seconds and you’re talking about fucking,” he growled against her neck.“You think I wanted to stay away from you?Fuck, Lucya.I tried.”He held her with one arm around her waist, her ass pulled snug against the bulge in his trousers.His right palm stroked down her bare leg, around the curve of her knee and up her inner thigh.
Every nerve ending stood at attention, awareness of his heat branding her skin.
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t go slow.Like every other time with Yuri, he went from zero to ninety in the time it took her to remember to breathe.His fingers traced under her skirt to her core, slid under the gusset of her panties.
She jerked and tried to close her thighs.
“I won’t let anyone see you,solnishko.”His lips brushed her ear.“But I remember how you like an audience.”
God, did she?She must, because despite her heart pounding out of her chest, when he touched her pussy, it gushed for him.He teased her outer lips while she squirmed, her breath quickening into pants.
“You should have called,” she attempted to chastise him again, but her words lost their bite with the breathy quality of her voice.
“No.I should have stayed away forever.But I’m here now.And you’re on my lap.And nothing in this world would stop me from touching you.”He screwed one finger inside her and she mewled.She’d gone braless and her nipples beaded and scraped against her halter top.
“Yuri,” she whined.“Don’t do this to me.”But she really meantget on with it.She was dying, there, her need raw and exposed.
He stilled and she cursed inwardly.
“I mean, go on.Or take me out of here and give it to me properly.”
Yuri’s dark chuckle fell against her neck and he hitched her up to plunge his finger deeper.“How long do I have?”
With a start, she realized the song was almost over.“None.”She shoved his hand away and jumped to her feet, jogging to the booth just in time to adjust the speed and blend a new song over the first one and make the seamless transition.
She looked to Yuri’s table and her heart stopped.He was gone.
“No, I didn’t leave, Lucya.”His dark rumble sounded behind her, making her start and turn around.He stood in the stairwell, where he couldn’t be seen.Picking up an empty record crate, he slid it under the turntable by her feet and sat down.“Panties off.”
Her mouth formed a surprised “O”.
He slapped her inner thigh.“Thighs apart, panties down.Now.”
His dominant directive turned her insides liquid.She had no idea why being ordered around would get her so excited, but it did.For the same reason she’d liked sucking his dick with her hands taped behind her back, she supposed.She hooked her fingers under her skirt and pulled off her panties, giving them to Yuri when he held his hand out.
