Page 85 of Beautiful Beast

“That’s romantic,” I mutter.

“It’s practical, and you know it.”

“You’re always so practical.”

“I am, and I’m going to say it again. With me, you’re in a position to keep Nadia safer than without me, and I think you know that. So, instead of fighting so hard to save your sister, if you just opened your eyes, you’d see you can save your sister from within the Bratva. Not against it. Something to think about.”

He heads toward his office without giving me another look. He never took his mask off.

I fill the bathtub with the heat all the way up until it’s practically scalding. I want to feel slight pain right now.

Erik’s words refuse to leave my mind. If I just gave in to him and the Bratva, I’d have the power to see my sister safe.

It sounds so easy in theory, but to put my trust into the people who have only betrayed me isn’t easy. Because putting my faith into Erik is putting my faith into my father, and he’s done nothing but hurt me time and time again.

I lean back in the tub and shut my eyes. If I could just shut my mind down for a moment, everything would be easier. I could feel peace for once.

The only time I ever felt my mind clear was after Erik gives me an orgasm. That thought makes my core clench.

My legs spread, and I ease my hand down my body and touch myself. Without meaning to, Erik’s face fills my mind. He’s the only person who’s ever touched me intimately. He’s the only person who’s awoken my body.

And yet he’s the man who’s making my mind a jumbled mess.

I press down on my clit, but it’s just not the same. I try rocking my hips a little. Still, nothing. Now that I’ve experienced Erik’s touch, my own touch just isn’t the same anymore.

With an exasperated scoff, I remove my hand from between my legs.

“Having trouble?”

I gasp and sit up. Erik is in the bathroom doorway, smirking at me. His mask is finally gone, which I’m grateful for. I muchprefer being able to read his expressions. It’s the only way I can make sense of him sometimes.

“I’m taking a bath.”

“I can see that.” His eyes make a point of roaming over me. That familiar flutter hits me between my legs. Damn him.

“So … go.” I wave my hand at him in a shooing motion.

“If you want me to.”

“That’s why I said ‘go.’”

His lips quirk up. “So feisty. Like always.”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“Oh, I do.” He makes no move to leave.

“So, why are you still here, then?”

“Because I want to look at you. In the bath. Looking fucking delectable. You look so good I want to taste you again.”

I swallow. My body loves his words. It’s instinctual, this reaction. My mind wants to fight it, but the rest of me doesn’t.

“Do you still want me to go?”

I don’t say a word as I lean back against the tub.

“Just tell me, Anya,” he practically whispers. “Tell me to touch you, and I will.”

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