Page 91 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
Leisurely, he scrubbed every inch of his body knowing her scent would follow him home. His own musk would embed itself onto her things too, a private trade. A secret for them to share when Levi left her all alone. It brought a smug smile to his face.
With the water at his side and the slippery soap covering every inch of his body, Mikko’s mind shifted and began picturing her as he always did: framed by her window, protected from him by the glass. He’d watch as she’d undress deliberately slow. The ink of her tattoosvivid against her tanned skin in her dimly lit bedroom.
Do hers have meaning like mine, or are they something to fill the void?
He’d have to ask her later. Right now, it didn’t matter; his perverse thoughts did nothing to quell the hunger mounting in his heart. Burying his emotions might be easier, but letting them out feltso, so good.
A groan tore free from his mouth as he stroked his cock. His other hand rested against the bright tile lining her shower. Its cool kiss should’ve erased the heat building within him, but he hardly felt it. Adding a pump of her conditioner to his hand to remove any unwanted friction, Mikko slowly edged himself. Each movement, every squeeze, had the world around him blurring.
What would her mouth feel like wrapped around me? Her tight little cunt?
His pants echoed around him, his breaths short and fast to match the speed of which he touched himself. He quickly realized that jerking off with her scarf had only whetted his appetite formore.That watching her had only made things worse.
Fuck.
He didn’t want to intimidate or interrogate her; he wanted to consume her as she had him. He’d gone weeks with her in his mind, plaguing him every chance she got. Everywhere he went, she was always conveniently there, and he was starting to wonder if she was followinghim.It didn’t matter, he supposed; Mikko was going to make her pay. No one came into his life and fucked it up without sacrificing something.
Especially when they had him like this—
His hips bucked against his hand, blood rushing in his ears, and Mikko pumped his fist faster before slowing back down. It was a give and take just like he would with Anika.
Steadily,painfully,Mikko worked his hardened length as thoughtsof tearing Anika’s clothes off with his hands and teeth, impatience coating every gesture, formed in his mind. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock and dripped onto the shower floor, quickly washed away. If only his lewd thoughts could follow suit.
The water’s delicious heat seared through him, mimicking what he thought Anika’s nails would feel like marking his back. The thought of them stabbed into her couch flashed across his mind again. He gritted his teeth.
There was a lethal anger in her, one that was sure to consume her if she let it, but a part of Mikko wanted her to take it out on him. Everything she’d held back, he’d take. Just as he’d contained himself for so long, unable to let anyone in for the fear of being ridiculed, he would unleash on her. Tongue and teeth and nails.
And before he could stop himself, Anika was there. The steam swirled around her body, her skin appearing soft and wet and oh, sokissable.Her figure wavered in the haze as if she were a mirage, a temptation making an appearance when he was weakest.
Fitting,he thought.
She was right there, so close he could almosttasteher. Water droplets clung to her flesh and strands of her ebony hair were plastered across her neck and shoulders, the swirling pattern one he wanted to follow with his fingertips. He didn’t miss the way the strands hugged the swell of her breasts.
A soft blush dusted her cheeks from the temperature of the water, and her lust was evident in her amber eyes. The deviousness he knew so well manifested itself to him. He could faintly feel her fingers tracing the linework of his tattoos, following the designs and floral edges until he was shivering.
Anika stepped closer, the heat of her own body somehow palpable through the steam. Reverently she grazed over the scars littering his skin, each containing a story of their own—some earned and othersgiven. Mikko stifled a whimper, but for once, he wasn’t ashamed of his marred skin. If it meant she’d touch him, he’d uncover every layer for her to inspect.
While his first tattoo had been an act of rebellion almost two decades ago, the rest had been because Mikko thought himself ugly, his mottled skin damaged. When he coveted beautiful things, his own imperfections afflicted him.
So, he covered them up. One by one.
Her hands crept lower before slipping across his abdomen and playfully stopping right below his navel. His breath hitched as her nails bit into his skin slightly.
“Don’t let me stop you,”she crooned, her saccharine smile at odds with her risque touch. His resolve faded.“I know how much you like towatch.”
She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Her words struck a chord, but it wasn’t worth denying it. It was who he was—someone always willing to observe from the shadows.
“You make it easy,” he panted in response to her voice resonating in his mind.
Anika let her fingers glide back up over his slick chest and gently intertwined them in his hair. His nerve endings were on high alert, body wound so fucking tight it felt like he’d snap at any moment. His hips canted up into his hand, chasing his pleasure all while she hummed against his skin.
“What can I say? I like knowing you’re always there, laying in wait.”One of her hands released the nape of his neck and drifted to the closing space between them. Faintly, her touch wrapped around his, mirroring his stroking motions.“And I like knowing that you can’t help yourself—that you have to touch yourself to release the ache building here.”
“Yes, I—”
She squeezed his cock, tightening his fist in tandem to draw hispleasure out. Mikko’s chest heaved and the rest of his words died out.
Pulling harshly, Anika exposed his neck to her with the hand still intertwined in his hair, nails scraping along his scalp. Groaning, Mikko let her overpower him, and his knees weakened as her lips skimmed the base of his throat. If she kept this up—ifhekept this up—he wasn’t going to be able to last long.
