Page 19 of Brutal Secrets

“Naked?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “That’s the bit you get stuck on? Not rolling in the snow? Yes, naked. You can’t enjoy a banya with your clothes on. You’re lucky I haven’t started cutting birch twigs to beat you with. Then again...”

He pulls a knife from his pocket and walks to a nearby tree, cutting a few branches off with a long, curved blade.

“What are those for?” My eyes widen.

“Stimulating your circulation. What else?” He grasps my hand, our arms swinging as he leads me back through the trees, the birch twigs trailing on the ground. I fixate on the movement of the branches through the snow.

“Are you really going to beat me with those?” I look up at him, and he grins wolfishly.

“Only if you want me to.”

Chapter Thirteen

When we reach the door of the little wooden shack, Vadim drops the branches and a smile crinkles his eyes at the corners. “Actually, these don’t have the leaves on, so they’re not right. I just thought it would be funny to worry you.”

I step inside the shed, and heat and the smell of pine hit me. As I pull off the beanie and shake out my curls, Vadim strips off his jacket. He reaches behind him to pull his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one move, leaving his scars, tattoos, and acres of bronzed skin on display.

“There might be some dry twigs in the banya.” He looks at me questioningly. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I don’t really know what I’m into. Not much experience to go on. But I’m into you.”

After shrugging off the heavy coat, I hand it to him. He hangs it up and sits on the bench, pulling off his shoes and socks. I stand before him, sweating inside my clothes as he sheds his jeans and reveals long, muscular legs dusted with hair. His skin still has the echoes of a summer tan, and the lines of swim trunks mark his upper thighs. I turn my head and face the pegs lining the wall.

“Shy?” Vadim comes to stand behind me, and his body heat overpowers the warm glow coming from the closed pine door of the sauna next to us. Leaving me my modesty, he stands behind me, and I hear a rustle of fabric as his boxers land on the floor.

“Very shy.” I drop my head and look at my feet as I toe off the wet snow boots. It’s like a game of strip poker where I could win with a poor hand because I’m wearing so many pairs of socks.

Sensing my nerves, Vadim crouches behind me and murmurs, “Put your hand on the wall for balance and give me your foot.”

I lift my leg and he peels away the sock layers from one foot and then the other. He reaches for the belt holding up my sweatpants and slowly undoes the buckle, his hands sliding beneath my waistline to caress the skin of my hips. His thumbs draw soothing circles, and there’s something erotic and sensual about being undressed by a man I can’t see.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I lift my arms so he can pull up my t-shirt and sweater to press a soft kiss against the base of my spine. He’s kneeling behind me naked as he removes my clothes, but he’s the one in control.

I press my hands into the pine wall, my fingers tracing the knots in the wood as he lowers the sweatpants and I step out of them. I’m not wearing panties, so I’m bare beneath all the layers of clothing. His hands stroke up and down my legs, tracing soft circles under the cheeks of my ass, but not demanding anything more. I’m melting like the snow dusting the clothes pooled on the floor.

He raises my shirt an inch higher and presses his lips against the base of my spine again. I sigh softly, aware that I’m bare from the waist down. His nose and forehead press against my lower back. He stops and rests his head against me, his hair tickling my skin as he allows me to get used to feeling this close to him. I widen my stance in invitation, but he pauses.

“You still with me, zolotaya?” he whispers through kisses against my back.

“Hmmm,” I sigh, a cocktail of nerves and excitement fizzing inside me.

I want him.

I want him so much I ache with it.

So I push the nerves down, knowing how little time we have. He must take my humming as consent for more because his hands slide up the sides of my body and slip around me to circle my breasts. Featherlight touches skirt the area where I most want his hands—and his mouth. I rise on my toes, widening my legs a little further.

“You look so fucking pretty like that. Bend a little lower, baby, and show me.”

I press my hands into the wall until I’m bent at ninety degrees.

His hands ghost around my breasts, stroking down my body until he reaches the delta of my thighs. He pushes my legs wider, and knowing I’m on display for a man I can’t see sends a gush of arousal to my molten core.

“Please,” I say as his hands stroke me gently from my thighs to my tits, avoiding all the good parts and making me crazy. “God, touch me please.”

The hypnotic movement of his hands continues. I bend lower, rising on my toes, turned on by the knowledge that he can see exactly what he’s doing to me.

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