Page 62 of Power's Fall

They were both sexy in their own way. Vadisk with his dark, smoldering looks, tanned skin, piercing black eyes, and his hulking build that made her feel tiny in comparison. With him, she felt a genuine sense of security, but it was laced with the slightest threat of danger that was enthralling. He was strong—physically and emotionally—and while she knew he’d never use that strength against her, to hurt her, she had a feeling he could definitely put it to good use in the bedroom. He wore swim trunks with that damned ever-present long-sleeved shirt. However, at least this time it was completely unbuttoned.

Montana had the fair complexion of a redhead and a boyish appeal that was intoxicating. His auburn hair looked redder in the dying light of the sun. He had an easy smile and quick wit that made her want to smile all the time. Being with him was as natural as breathing, and she knew it would be so simple to fall in love with him. God. She was already halfway there.

“Are you coming in?” she asked, her voice taking on a naturally sultry tone. She was so, so ready for this.

“We were enjoying the show,” Montana said.

“Oh,” she said, eyes slightly narrowed. “I wasn’t aware this was going to be a solo performance.”

“This one is going to have several acts,” Vadisk retorted.

Yep, she thought. There was that hint of danger in his voice that made her nipples hard, her pussy wet. Ordinarily, she would have attributed those things to the fact she was in a pool, but there was no denying the heat she was generating despite the coolness of the water.

Vadisk gestured toward her swimsuit. “Take off your bikini top.”

Dahlia toyed with the idea of playing coy for about a second and a half before her own desires won out. She untied the string at the nape of her neck, then the one halfway down her back. Unable to resist, she tossed the top in their direction, Montana catching the wet material before it could land in their laps.

She noticed the fact there was at least a couple of feet between Vadisk and Montana. When they’d discussed setting this trap for the blackmailer, using themselves as bait, they all agreed that given where they were, and Russian attitudes toward homosexuality, it would be best if the guys didn’t touch.

Before either of them could ask, Dahlia took the liberty of pushing away from the edge of the pool so that she could slip off her bikini bottoms. Those, she made sure to toss directly at Vadisk. He caught them one-handed, giving her a wicked grin.

“The water is beautiful, boys,” she said, beckoning them toward her with a crooked finger.

Montana took the bait, pushing off the side of the pool. They were near the middle of the pool, but closer to the shallow end than the deep, so the water only came up to mid-chest on him. Because he was always standing next to Vadisk, she tended to forget that he was a fairly tall man as well, his six-foot frame towering over her smaller five-feet-eight.

He slowly strolled over to her. When he reached her, he gripped her hips in his large hands, lifting her until her bare breasts were snug against his equally bare chest. Dahlia wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. The water had done nothing to relieve his current condition. She moaned softly when she felt the bulge of his erection, only the material of his swimsuit between them.

Montana lowered his head, kissing her deeply, his tongue dipping in and out of her mouth the way she imagined his cock would. She pressed her center harder against him, delighted by his groan, vibrating against her lips.

They kissed for several minutes, and while Dahlia was enthralled by the way Montana took her mouth and her lips, she never forgot Vadisk was there. His gaze on them felt every bit as strong as a real caress. She could feel him surrounding them, a part of the kiss even though he was several feet away.

When they separated, Dahlia glanced in Vadisk’s direction, a tiny gasp crossing her lips at the look in his eyes. She’d seen hunger before, but this was so much more than that. He looked ravenous.

Their gazes locked for a moment as she waited—hoped—Vadisk would join them in the pool. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled his feet out of the water and walked toward the wide stairs at one end of the pool. He gripped the railing down the center of the stairs, stepping down until he reached the third one. The water lapped around his knees.

“Come here,” he demanded, gesturing for Dahlia and Montana to join him.

Dahlia padded over, enjoying the feeling of the water on her skin. Skinny-dipping was high up on her list of favorite things to do. There was something so freeing about gliding naked through water. Sometimes she felt as if she’d been misplaced at birth, certain she was meant to be a mermaid.

Dahlia reached Vadisk first, Montana walking behind her, holding back. When he reached the stairs, he sat on the lowest one.

“Kiss him,” Montana commanded.

Dahlia was becoming accustomed to Vadisk’s sexual demands, but hearing the same level of alpha in Montana’s tone was one hell of a turn-on. She wouldn’t call herself a submissive. She would never be the woman who let a man call all the shots in the bedroom because she had her own needs and zero problem expressing them. She’d never be able to say the words “yes, sir” without rolling her eyes a little bit, and while she didn’t mind bondage and spanking, she also viewed those games as a tit-for-tat situation because sometimes she liked to be the one tightening the knots.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t also have fantasies that thrust her into a more submissive role. She was hella turned on by the ideas of chase and captivity, and consensual non-consent. Obviously, she and her husbands were nowhere near that level of game playing.

This relationship was in its infancy, which required them to take baby steps. However, given the men’s natural alpha tendencies, she had high hopes for their future in the bedroom.

Vadisk sank down on the lowest step as well, the water covering him to his waist, unconcerned as the hem of his shirt got wet. He parted his thick, muscular thighs, creating a space for her.

She lowered herself down until her face met his, his lower body cradling hers. Once she was in place, he closed his thighs around her, applying enough pressure to make her feel trapped…in the most tantalizing way.

God, it felt as if she’d waited a lifetime to touch this man the way she wanted to. It was hard to believe that a week ago they’d been virtual strangers—nothing more than a face on a video call, a signature on an email.

Vadisk kissed like he lived. Like he was on a life-or-death mission, paying attention to every detail, analyzing all the threats and disarming them. She’d never felt so consumed. When he nipped her lower lip, just shy of breaking skin, she whimpered. Dahlia hadn’t experimented much with pain, probably because her past relationships had remained in the casual category. As a legacy, she’d known better than to let herself fall for anyone who wasn’t a member of the Trinity Masters, fully aware and committed to the idea of allowing someone else to arrange her marriage.

As Vadisk continued to lay claim to her mouth, she was certain she could have scoured the earth for a million years and never found men better suited to her than these two. Score one for the Grand Master.

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