Page 126 of Ivory Ashes

I didn’t realize until this very second how much I want to show Mikhail that I appreciate him. I could write a letter or buy him an edible arrangement, but we’ve never been good with words.

This is what we’re good at.

This is how we communicate.

As I swallow him down again and again, I hope he understands what I’m saying.

Mikhail fucks my mouth, his hands firm on either side of my face. I’m fine finishing him like this. I want to give him whatever he wants. But he pulls me off of him, panting.

I stand up. “How do you want me?”

He roughly palms my breast. His eyes are black. “Careful asking a question like that, Viviana.”

I bite my lower lip and repeat, “How do you want me?”

He grips my chin and pulls my lips to his for a quick kiss. “You’re the masseuse. You tell me.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach, but I fight to look more confident than I feel.

I lay him on his back and crawl onto the table, stroking my fingers over his oiled-up skin. I massage his pecs and his abs, trickling my fingers over every single ridge and valley. When I follow the trail of golden hair beneath his stomach, his cock twitches.

I wrap my hand around him, making long, even strokes. “You hold a lot of tension here. I can help with that.”

I straddle him backwards and slowly lower down onto him.

“You’re perfect.” He grabs my ass and thrusts into me, sinking in the rest of the way. “Fucking perfect.”

The words pierce straight through my already-flimsy armor.

I thought I wanted to show Mikhail I appreciate everything he’s done for me. I thought I was in lust with Vacation Mikhail and fucking him would clear my head. But I think this goes deeper than that.

Mikhail presses on my lower back and leans me forward, groaning as we find a new angle.

“I’m so fucking deep in you,” he growls.

You have no idea.

I fall onto all fours and Mikhail quickly resituates and enters me from behind. He forces me down onto the massage table until my cheek is squished against the cushion. He drives into me harder and harder and I’m grateful.

When he’s fucking me like this, I can’t think about anything except taking him.

Then, suddenly, Mikhail slides out of me and flips me onto my back. I feel exposed in every way imaginable. Like all he has to do is look down and see the thoughts running through my head.

This isn’t a business deal.

I want everything you can give.

I’m weak and pathetic and I fell for you, even though I swore I never would.

He hooks my legs over his shoulders and enters me slowly, watching my face to see how I react to every stroke.

Tears well in the backs of my eyes, but I blink them back.

I am not going to cry during sex. I am not going to cry during sex.

He circles his thumb around my clit. There’s no rush to his movements. He is content to take his time, but I feel like I’m cooking over an open flame. If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to say something stupid. I’m going to tell him I love him.

I clench every muscle I have, squeezing him. He groans, an eyebrow arching. Then he smirks. “Do it again.”

---