Page 63 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

All of me wants to take that ass in my hands, caress it. Caress that bare back and those small shoulders until Joy is groaning for more.

But she’s already walking to the shower.

She pauses on the step. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you. I changed my mind.”

And then we’re in. She’s facing me this time, staring at me, half covering herself. Although she can’t obscure how pert those small breasts of hers are, how ready they are to be touched.

“But you’re in your clothes,” she says. A curious expression sneaks on her face.

I smile back at her and crank on the water. As it patters down, her mouth opens into an O, her eyes widen. Already, the heat is working its way over her, making her exhale with pleasure. I like the sound. I know I’ll like it even better when it’s coming from what I do to her with my own hands.

I detach the shower head, and she steps back.

Careful, Gavril.She’s like a wild animal. All my motions need to be slow, gradual.

“You want me to stop? Say the word.”

She glares at me, still clutching herself. She’s cold; she wants the heat.

I wiggle the shower head. “Do you want this or not?”

Her glare meets mine. “I want it.”

So, I give it to her, angling the shower head her way, letting the heat gush down her curves. I grab a loofah off a ledge and start scrubbing.

Her body jolts. Her eyes snap open and find mine. But she says nothing.

I start on her shoulders, working my way down. She keeps sneaking gazes at me, wondering what I’m doing. I’m wondering myself, only I know that I can’t stop.

When the loofah reaches her ass, her spine stiffens. But she says nothing.

Next comes the collarbone, then down once more.

Our eyes meet, and then I sweep the loofah onto her breasts. Watching them jiggle with the pressure, another roar of attraction rises up in me, as strong as a tidal wave. I drop the loofah. My hand goes where the loofah was.

Her gaze snaps to me, her voice taut. “Stop.”

I stop. Only now do I notice the droplets raining down my soaked suit. How massive her pupils are. How pouted and ready and waiting her lips.

I pick up the loofah again, starting back where I left off on her breasts. She’s breathing heavily now, watching my every move. Watching, waiting, as the loofah strokes down and down and down.

Until it’s between her legs and her hand snaps to it, wrenching the loofah away from me. “I think I can pick up from here, thanks.”

I watch her, and watch her watch me. She rubs the loofah, extra slow, enjoying whatever’s happening on my face.

Who the fuck is this girl?

She lets the loofah drop to the ground, meeting my gaze.I dare you, her expression says.

My hand goes to her pussy, pressing to her lips. She gasps. “You missed a spot,” I say, and then I shove my finger in.

The groan that falls out of her is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Nothing I would’ve suspected. Like a lifetime was spent waiting for that very touch. She sinks onto my finger like it’s her deliverance, mouth open and panting.

“That’s it,” I find myself saying, “That’s more like it.”

My one hand strokes along her jaw as the other dips further inside her. Jesus fuck, she’s wet. And not just from the shower. Already, she’s soaked, trembling.

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