Page 7 of Inked Adonis

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—” She makes a lot of crude gestures with her hand that I don’t understand. “—use the man. If not in real life, then at least in fantasy. You do own a vibrator, don’t you?”

“Ew! Hope!”

Hope waves me off. “That imagination of yours is a waste if you’re only using it for sensible stuff like business plans and career goals. You need to get freaky with it.”

“That’s more your ballpark than mine.”

“Well, then it’s time to try something new.” She folds her hands in her lap and stares at me with mock seriousness. “Think of me as your sensei, your personal fantasy guide for the evening.”

“I hate everything about this.”

“It’s a cool summer evening.” Her voice dips low, sultry, soft. “You’re in a gorgeous penthouse apartment—elegant and spacious, like this one—” She looks around the gaudy garden and all of its fat cherub statues with a grimace. “—but you know, with actual taste.”

I snort but Hope keeps going, undeterred. “You’re alone. Or are you? No! You turn around and find yourself face to face with none other than Samuil Litvinov.”

“I’m riveted.”

“Close your eyes,” Hope snaps. “I’m not doing all the heavy lifting here.”

I close my eyes, if only so this can be over sooner. But when the breeze kisses against my face, I actually find myself leaning into it. Imagining it’s someone else’s touch.

“It’s just you and Samuil. All six-foot-four of him. Pure sin. Those broad shoulders and his eyes burning into you like you’re his next meal. It’s up to you now, Nova. What do you want to do?”

My heart pounds a war drum between my thighs. “I throw myself off this rooftop.”

“Liar!” Hope smacks my arm. “You nearly got us sued and didn’t even bother passing our card to one of Chicago’s wealthiest men. The least you can do is play along.”

“Fine! Fine. What do I do? I give him the Rufus treatment and hump the life out of him.”

Hope chuckles. “Okay, here we go, but you’re skipping over the good part. Let’s rewind a bit.”

The fantasy builds easier than I’d like to admit. I can almost see his silhouette filling the doorway, commanding every inch of space.

Even in my dreams, it’s hard to look him in the eyes.

“I’m the one in control,” I whisper. “He follows my lead.”

I’d want to touch him. The same way I wanted to grip his arm in the park just to feel how sturdy he was.

But not yet…

“And then?” Hope prompts.

“And then…” I chew my lip. “When he’s standing right in front of me, I strip. I stay out of arm’s reach, disrobing slowly so he can appreciate my body. He tries to grab me, but I don’t let him. In fact, I order him to get naked. Only when his suit and shirt and boxers are on the floor… Only then can he touch me. Once he’snaked, I place a hand on his chest and walk him back towards the sofa.”

He’d dwarf the little couch in my living room. My entire apartment would feel like a dollhouse with him inside. I’d seem so fragile in his hands.

“I push him down and climb on top of him, straddling him. I run my hands up and down his body. He might as well be carved out of marble.”

“I bet he’s ripped,” Hope interjects.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe,” I confirm without opening my eyes. “The man’s got muscles that would put Hercules to shame. Once I’m done exploring, my hand drifts lower and grabs his cock.”

“It’s big?”

“Huge. I’m worried he won’t fit, but he grabs me by the hips and drags me down onto him. I take him whole.”

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