Page 49 of Savage Assassin

It won’t take long, I know that. The tip is already slick with pre-cum, dripping into the sand as I roll my palm over the sensitive, swollen flesh and let out a hiss of pleasure through my teeth, lubing the rest of my shaft with it. My hand flexes around my cock as it throbs, and my hips jerk forward, fucking my fist as urgently as if I were where I really want to be right now.

It’s not good enough. It’s never fucking good enough, but it feels particularly lacking right now.It’s all you get,I tell myself firmly, sliding my palm over the sensitive tip again, squeezing as I slide my hand down to the base, trying my damndest not to imagine that it’s Elena’s wet heat that I’m buried inside. It feels like a monumental effort.

Another jolt of pleasure arcs through me, my balls drawing up tight at the base of my cock, and I know I’m so fucking close. I slide my other hand into my boxers to cup them, rolling them lightly in my palm, trying to think about anything other than teaching Elena how I like my balls played with while she wraps those perfect lips around my cock, or how they’d feel slapping against her clit as I fucked her from behind–

You’re going to fucking hell, Volkov. You already knew that, but it bears repeating right now.

“Levin?”

I almost jump clear out of my skin. I let go of my cock as if it’s on fire, moving to shove my stubborn erection back into my jeans–a useless effort, as hard as I am right now–but it’s too late, anyway. Elena is circling around me, curious as a cat–and as fucking lightfooted as one, too. I hadn’t heard her come up, not so much as the slightest footstep.

Or I was just so fucking distracted by jerking my cock that a meteor could have landed, and I wouldn’t have heard it.

“Yes?” My throat sounds as if it’s closed up, the word coming out half-strangled as I try to turn away from her to keep her from seeing my cock and what I’ve been doing.

Again, a useless effort. Her gaze latches on immediately, and I see a glint in them that tells me she’s far more interested than she should be.

“Do you want help with that?”

Her voice has that soft, breathy tone that I’ve noticed it takes on when she’s aroused. It’s a detail about her that I shouldn’t know, that I feel guilty for knowing, but my cock just won’t get the fucking memo that I’m not supposed to be turned on by any of this. The sound of those few words breathed out like that in a soft whisper, sends a jolt of lust through me that threatens to tip me over the edge.

“You should be asleep.” It’s not even close to being an answer to her question, but I can’t bring myself to lie to her. I also can’t bring myself to sayyes, I want you to wrap those long, pretty fingers around my cock and do what I was just doing, but withyourhand. I want you on your knees, while I teach you to suck a cock for the first time in your life, and I hate myself for being turned on by that, butfuckif the idea of it doesn’t make me nearly come every time it pops into my head.

“That’s not an answer.”

I turn away from her, finally managing to get my erection back into my pants, painful as it is. “Elena–”

“I wondered if that’s what you were doing. That night at Diego’s, when you went to the bathroom and stayed in there after you kissed me. I thought you might be–” she pauses, as if trying to decide how to phrase it. “Pleasuring yourself.”

“That’s one term for it.” Again, the words come out strangled. I feel as if my brain is half-dead from lust, as if I’m struggling to think through a fog. “You should go back to bed, Elena.”

“I’d rather be out here with you.”

“Elena!” I turn sharply towards her as I manage to zip up my jeans, and she flinches back.

I force myself to soften my expression and my voice, not wanting to frighten her. I never, ever want to frighten her. Butfuck, if I don’t need her to understand that she’s toying with things she can’t possibly fathom the seriousness of.

“Even if we were going to do anything–which we’renot,” I add firmly, “this isn’t the time, Elena. You need rest. This morning, you were burning up with a fever. I wouldn’t be any kind of man I could respect if I so much as kissed you right now. Go back to bed.”

I know I’m dancing a fine line. She could–and I have a feeling she might–take what I just said as a tacit suggestion that I might change my mind in the future. But she’s being stubborn as hell, and I need her to walk away before I lose what little control I have left.

“Are you going to come to bed too?”

Why does just hearing that make my chest feel like it’s going to crack wide open?

“I’ll be right here, where I can see and hear you if something happens. I need some time, Elena. I’ll come back before you wake up.”

She hesitates, and for a moment, I think she’s going to keep arguing. But then she nods, slowly, and turns to walk back down the beach.

I let out a slow sigh of relief as I watch her retreat. I can tell she’s still frustrated with me from the set of her shoulders and the way her fists clench and unclench as she walks away, but she’s just going to have to be frustrated.

I want to go back with her. I want to hold her in my arms and fall asleep with the soft weight of her curled against me. I want a dozen other things that I don’t dare think about, or I’ll follow her back to bed and give her everything that she keeps begging for and more. I’ll do things that will make it hard to live with myself later.

Why the fuck is she getting to me like this? After all the women, all these years–

That’s not something I can spend too much time thinking about, either.

I sink down into the sand as I watch her walk away, sitting there overlooking the water. The tightness in my chest doesn’t ease, not even when I glance over a little while later and see her curled on the blanket again, asleep from what I can tell. She looks peaceful once more, and I rub a hand over my face, feeling an exhaustion that sinks all the way down to my bones.

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