Page 61 of Vasily the Nail

I don’t know how I’m going to give her up. I feel like she’s about to suck my soul right through my cock every time her cheeks sink in. She was a natural at cooking, she’s clearly a natural at singing. I have no doubts about her acting abilities, and now I’m pretty sure she’s mastered me.

To prove it, her eyes drop from mine, and instantly, I want to snap her hair down again to bring her eyes back, but she’s looking at my cock. She moves the hand she’s rested on my thigh to cup my balls.

I groan in colorful Russian. If anyone is walking down the hall, they’ll certainly hear that, but at least they won’t know what I said.

Even with her mouth full, I can feel her grin, and with both her hands working me along with her mouth? I’m fucking done. The only thing that saves me from messing everything up is the fact that she hasn’t taken more than the crown in her mouth. If her hand didn’t have such a solid grip on my shaft, I would certainly thrust into her throat and finish there. Instead, I finish on her tongue.

“Such a good girl,” I rumble when my cock stops kicking in the grip of her lips and I see from the puff of her cheeks that she hasn’t swallowed. “You keep that right there when I pull out, okay?”

She nods seriously and tightens her lips up as I slide out to keep from spilling any, attempting to chase a single dribble with the tiny pink tip of her tongue, but she’s not fast enough, so I bend down and lick her chin clean. “So good,” I praise again. “Now tilt your head back and open so I can see, okay?”

The sight of that mouthful has my dick twitching again like it’s about to get more action, and you know she grabs it and gives it a good rub before I can smack her hand away. I get real close, leaning down until my mouth is right over hers, and spit into it.

“There you go,zvyozdochka. Now you can swallow and get yourself cleaned up.”

She grins, takes a big gulp of my cum and spit, kisses my cheek, and runs off to one of the stalls.

I should feel dozy, sedated from the orgasm, but instead, my chest clenches, like even the flimsy stall door between us is too much, like I’m about to break the same way she did when she rejected me after our home movie. It beats for the moment she opens the door again, and I nearly forget why she’s handing me her panties because I’m just so fucking happy to touch her again.

I don’t think I can send her home.

Day 11

Analiese

“I can’t believeI’ve lived in Phoenix for twenty-two years and this is my first time in Flagstaff,” Camilla mutters, staring around in wonder at the boutique tea house where I was able to schedule a table for two at the last minute.

Well, Vasily scheduled it.

Probably Artyom, if I’m being honest. As we were coming in, the hostess was apologizing profusely to a pair of red hats for accidentally overbooking today. I have a feeling that Artyom pulled some strings for me. The hostess has a pronounced Russian accent.

She’s looking nervously between the two men standing quietly in the foyer that doubles as a gift shop. I’m not sure who’s more menacing, Kostya or Frankie. Kostya’s definitely more pissed about being stuck bodyguarding me. Frankie’s a good pal of Camilla’s, has been nearly as long as I have. He scored the bodyguard gig by being as gay as the day is long, and he’s proudly bragged to us both that the only reason he spends so much time at the gym is to pick up other guys.

He looks big and bad, and I wish this was a situation that could result in him duking it out with Kostya, but they’re on the same team right now whether they like it or not.

“Trust me when I say this is not the Flagstaff I’ve been staying in,” I chuckle as I use the dipper to drizzle honey into my tea cup. It matches the saucer it’s on, but nothing else matches. Mine has an English rose painted on the side of it and gold leaf on the rim. Camilla’s is shaped into a sunflower that’s barely functional as a teacup, but she demanded it when it was initially set in front of me.

It’s all too precious for words. I’m so glad I found this place online last night while we were eating Chinese in a half-abandoned strip mall. The food was great. The leftovers were just as good when we reheated them two hours later after Vasily practically split me in half for being on my best behavior in Phoenix. But I realized if I was making Frankie drive Camilla all the way up here, I needed to make it worth it.

Ergo, novelty tea house. We’re getting a traditional high tea for four, and I can’t wait to see Vasily negotiate itty bitty tiny finger food when I bring him the leftovers.

“Well, tell me about the Flagstaff youhavebeen staying in,” Camilla says. “And why isn’t your guy here? I wanted to meet him.”

I frown and hyperfocus on the cup. There was that blink of time that he spent the day with me, and I wish I hadn’t used it to antagonize him. And once he told me that he’d been covering for Dima with the daily truck, I thought that meant Iwouldhave him for at least half the day. But we were lucky we took advantage of the empty apartment the moment we got home from our trip and dinner because he only got a couple bites of those leftovers before he was called back out and I was dropped back off at Kseniya’s.

“Aww, Laces, is it bad?”

“Not like that,” I say quickly. With a sheepish laugh, I add, “They have a lot to deal with here, I guess, so he’s forever running off and coming home bloody, and one of their guys got beat up really badly on Sunday, so he hasn’t even gotten to spend the night with me since then. I just miss him.”

Camilla laughs so hard she has to cover her face with her cloth napkin to keep from squirting tea out her nose. “Oh my god, you guys are disgustingly cute together.”

“You’ve never seen us together!”

She’s grimacing slightly as she lowers her napkin back to her lap, and it hits me that she has.

“Oh no, that doesn’t count.”

The grimace intensifies. “Don’t be mad at me, but once you gave me the back story on the video, I watched it again.”

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