Page 43 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
Spent and breathless, the reality doesn’t kick in until I’m staring up at the ceiling, aware of him partially on top of me, his mouth on my throat.
So much for no sex.
Chapter Sixteen
Iam so royally fucked. Literally and figuratively.
I wake up beside Vadim again—this time with one hand on my ass and the other on my tit. I lie facing him, his arm around my hips, his body relaxed, his face utter perfection. My heart pangs as I blink my eyes open to see him, bathed in the glow of early dawn.
I drink him in, barely able to keep from touching him. My brain is still drunk off the sex, and dangerous thoughts creep in. Like how good it feels lying beside him. His posture alone conveys that he feels the same way, relishing our carnal attraction. Lust isn’t an affliction he’s forced to suffer. If anything, he has to surrender to it.
But how long can I stomach this before I get hopelessly addicted?
It’s like he’s always reading my mind, even while unconscious. He stirs, his eyes opening, as a part of me warns that it’s already too late. Those dark irises take me in leisurely, still unfocused from sleep. A groan rips from him as his tongue traces a path along his lower lip.
“You are so beautiful.”
And he means it. He truly thinks I’m beautiful enough that he slips up and breaks his most stubborn social rule. A frown shapes his mouth as he realizes what he’s done, and he rolls onto his back. Both of his hands withdraw from me, and I can practically see him rearranging the bricks of his invisible wall.
“Don’t be mean to me.” I shuffle forward and mold myself against him. The logical part of my brain is screaming, but I don’t care. Rejection is a pill I can’t swallow right now. Not when I can still feel him inside me, and my brain is still churned to mush. Jim always pushed me away.
Vadim sighs but relents to the contact. Reluctantly, his arm slips beneath my waist again, and I wiggle into his touch, overwhelmed with relief. A pity cuddle is beyond his comfort level—I know that. But he endures this one anyway. Later, I’ll go over the repercussions.
Now?
I’m dizzy, and clinging to him seems to be the only way I can ground myself.
“I loved having you go down on me,” I confess against his ear. His jaw twitches, but the depth of his expression is hard to make out from this angle. Good? Bad? “I love how you felt,” I continue, letting my eyes drift shut as his heat thrums through me, more relaxing than the world’s best wine. “I love when you lose control. I love when you fuck me wild—”
“Enough to stay?”
“Hmm?” I peel one eye open only to find him staring at me intently, all traces of lust erased. He’s serious.
“Enough to let me pierce you?” He slides his hand along my thigh, raising goosebumps.
I sink against him again and let out a dreamy sigh. “Enough to consider letting a trained professional pierce me, yes.” I may even mean it. Just thinking about how a piercing might have enhanced my pleasure last night?
I’m beyond tempted.
That seems to placate him enough that he relaxes beside me. We must drift off like this. When I come to again, I’m lying naked with the sheets kicked down to my ankles and the space beside me glaringly empty. Confused, I roll over to catch a half-naked Vadim strolling across the room, wearing only a towel slung over his waist. Dripping water, his curls hang freely, and I have to clamp my knees together as I take him in.
“You showered without me.” I sound devastated by the fact.
Frowning, he doesn’t seem to realize why.
I flip onto my back, but I don’t bother to cover myself with a sheet. “Letting me suck you off in the shower should have been your number one priority after last night,” I point out. “Fair is fair.”
He chuckles, strolling toward the closet with renewed confidence. “The things you say…”
“Are you leaving?” I sit up and finally reach for the end of the comforter, drawing it around me. A row of floor-to-ceiling windows provides a bird’s eye view of the surrounding landscape. It looks to be early in the afternoon, though cloud cover and a light rainfall make it harder to pinpoint a time for sure.
“I have some errands to run,” he admits. Then almost hesitantly, he adds, “You are welcome to join me.”
“Really?” I bound from the mattress before he can change his mind.
“The bathroom is through that door,” he says, nodding toward a polished, silver one in the corner of the room. I step through it only to enter a dream world formed of stainless-steel fixtures with the main attraction being a clawfoot tub positioned near a view of the water.
It’s also infuriatingly modern.
