Page 38 of Power's Fall

Montana admired Vadisk’s restraint. He wasn’t sure he’d have the same strength to hold back. Not after spending the past two days with them.

“If you’re not ready to move things to the next level—” Vadisk started.

“I am,” Dahlia hastily interjected.

Montana nodded his assent as well.

“Then there are two ways this can go down. Either you touch yourself while Montana and I watch, Dahlia. Or…”

“Or?” Montana prompted, his heart beating rapidly as he prayed Vadisk was offering the choice he wanted her to make.

“Or,” Vadisk said, looking at Dahlia, “I’ll watch from the shadows as you and Montana touch.”

“That one,” Dahlia breathed, her gaze darting over to Montana. “I want you to touch me while Vadisk watches.”

Montana started to nod but stopped short when Vadisk said, “I should clarify something to both of you. I’m notjustgoing to watch. I’m going to direct. Going to tell you exactly what I want you to do.”

Fuck.

Montana was nearly panting with need. They needed to move this to the bedroom now.

“Okay,” Dahlia and Montana agreed in unison.

“We’re all yours,” Montana said, quickly rising from the couch.

Dangerous or not, he couldn’t spend another night without them.

ChapterSeven

Vadisk stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist, praying he had the strength to follow through with what he’d just signed on for. Watching his spouses touch was going to be next level in terms of torture, but even knowing that, he couldn’t deny himself this time with them.

He walked into his bedroom, heading straight to his suitcase to pull out a pair of lounge pants. They were his most comfortable pair and so well-worn that they hung low on his hips. Which was good considering his cock was still half hard, and that was following a cold shower.

Vadisk started to reach for a T-shirt, then changed his mind. Even with the storm raging outside, protecting them from any people or cameras that might be watching, this felt risky, so he grabbed his knife, intent on keeping it within arm’s reach. He was already pissed at himself that he hadn’t heard the doorbell earlier. He’d been on a call with Grigoris, discussing security for Nikolett, and hadn’t realized he wouldn’t be able to hear the bell on his side of the villa.

Dahlia was smart enough not to answer the door, but she’d been right there. If they’d broken in, maybe they would have grabbed her before he could get to her.

He was tired of keeping his distance from them.

All he had to do was remain close enough to the door that he could exit the room should anyone break into the villa. He reassured himself that he wasn’t making one hell of a mistake by taking a weapon with him. At least this way, he’d be prepared to defend them.

Slipping out into the dark hallway, he paused outside the door to Montana and Dahlia’s bedroom, the sound of the rain reassuring as it beat against the wall of glass and the stone balcony. They’d turned off the lights and left their door open just a crack. He took in a slow, deep breath, then gently pushed the door open.

Montana and Dahlia were in bed together. They’d left the nightstand light on, so he had a clear view of the bed. He suspected they’d done that for him and for Dahlia, who had mentioned the symptoms of her disease and confided that night vision was the first thing her mother had lost. Dahlia then admitted she was starting to notice her night vision was getting worse.

His wife and husband watched him curiously as he slipped inside the room, leaving the door open just enough so he could exit quickly if needed. Remaining in the shadows, he stood next to it, leaning against the wall a few feet from the foot of the bed.

Dahlia glanced in his direction.

“Sonechko,” he said in a low voice.

She gave him a soft, sexy smile, clearly understanding from his tone it was a term of endearment, even if she didn’t understand the Ukrainian word. Neither of his spouses had bothered to crawl under the covers, instead pulling the duvet down while remaining on top of the sheets. They’d ensured Vadisk would be able to see everything, nothing hidden from his sight.

Montana was dressed similarly to him—bare chested with only a pair of soft pajama bottoms on. Dahlia had gone the opposite route, covering herself with a large T-shirt Vadisk suspected was Montana’s, her trim legs bare.

He took a moment to soak in just how sexy his spouses looked together. Montana’s hair was still damp from his shower, and it looked as if he’d trimmed his beard. Dahlia’s hair was dry and hanging loose over her shoulders. He loved the pink tinge in her cheeks, which told him that—like him—the shower hadn’t dampened her desire.

She’d been drunk when they left the winery, but she’d had a couple of hours, a short nap in the car, and some water to sober her up a bit.

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