Page 16 of Bratva's Secret Girl
“Do you want to give me something to look at too, malishka?” I rasp. My throat is dry despite the steam around me.
Her chin jerks up so she’s looking me in the face, her pretty mouth open in shock. Her cheeks are flushed. “I…”
I pause. This is her moment to run away, if she wants to. I don’t force things, but I do take advantage of situations that fall into my lap.
“Drop the towel, Hayley,” I order in a gruff voice. “Let me see your raw beauty.”
She lets out a little mew, but her fingers drag the ends of the white, fluffy fabric apart. Then it falls.
The sight sparks new pleasure down my arteries, stronger with every rapid heartbeat.
I’ve fantasized about how she would look, of course. But those were vague, fuzzy images. The reality is so much more. She’s slight, but also soft.
Her tits are a perfect handful, and her waist nips in as I thought it might when I saw her in an apron all those times. The curves of her hips are exactly right for holding onto, and her pussy is covered by dark curls. My mouth waters.
Those nipples. I don’t know where to look first. Her legs are solid and strong, and that vision of her riding my face and coming gets a scorchingly hot update of the plump flesh of her thighs pressing on my ears, blocking out the rest of the world as I feast.
My cock twitches.
“You’re so perfect,” I murmur.
She bites her lip, and her hands go to cover herself.
“No. Let me see you, malishka.” I continue staring greedily.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers out.
I shake my head. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for looking at me. Now come here.”
She doesn’t move. But she doesn’t run away either, so I straighten and push off the shower screen where I’d been leaning against it, and crook my forefinger, beckoning her.
My other hand hasn’t stopped its slow slide up and down my cock.
She visibly draws in a breath, and steps towards me.
10
HAYLEY
I should walk away. I really should, but the whole area between my legs feels bigger than usual. Throbbing. Heated. Tingling and needy.
So instead, my feet take me to my boss, compelled as though he’s a magnet.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as I step under the spray of the shower. His cock is in his motionless hand, but his gaze roves over my body, and his expression is ravenous.
And honestly, I’m just as desperate for him. It’s been a very weird and distressing day, I’m worried about Payton, and I really want to lose myself.
If you’d asked me what might have done that this morning, I’d have said a bar of chocolate and my favourite drink, but Maxim inviting me into the shower, naked, turns out to be much better.
He drops his arms to his sides, and my god. He’s enormous all over, his chest wide and his arms as thick as my thighs. Where having no clothes on has made me feel slight and tiny, it’s somehow makes him seem even bigger.
My gaze gravitates down, inevitably.
To his cock. Where metal spheres that must be the endings of bars stand out in stark contrast to his skin.
“Can I touch it?” Desire is making me brave. And he wouldn’t have told me I could look, ordered me to drop my towel, and beckoned me over to join him in the shower if he didn’t want me at all, right?
But all that metal. I know how piercings work—they’re healed wounds—and yet, I can’t quite believe it doesn’t hurt when it’s tense and solid.
