Page 16 of The Payback

He’s loud and messy as his tongue runs over my pussy, dipping into my channel, and I cry out when he flicks at my clit. A shudder rocks through me, the sensation too much after the orgasm I gave myself seconds ago. My gasps and moans drown the sounds out, my body refusing to acknowledge anything other than this man’s mouth on me as he expertly licks and sucks, bringing me to the edge again.

He runs that devious tongue over my clit, again and again, not letting up until I’m a shaking and trembling mess in his arms. But I can’t get there upside down. It feels like I’m on the cusp, but my orgasm is just out of reach, and I’m scrambling to find it.

Before I know what’s happening, Dimitri grabs my hips, lifts me away from him, and falls backwards onto the bed. I splay my arms out to catch myself, and in moments, the blood rushes down my body, and I explode.

I scream his name as I come, losing all sense of who I am, who I’m supposed to be, and what the fuck I’m doing here.

All I know and feel are the unending waves of exquisite torture washing over me and the lapping of his tongue against me. He draws out my pleasure until my voice goes hoarse, losing all sound as my lips form a soundlessO.

His tongue slows, and his hands run over my ass, spreading me for his perusal. My immediate reaction is to clench, but with a playful swat to my ass in reprimand, he grips me harder and licks one long stripe up my centre, ending with a twirl around my asshole.

“Good wife,” he murmurs before biting my ass cheek.

I roll off of him, landing on my back and facing the opposite direction. Catching my breath, I mutter, “That was...” I don’t know how to finish the sentence, butincredibledoesn’t seem like enough.

“It was,” he confirms. I can feel his cocksure smirk from here, even if I can’t see it. “We should go to bed.”

“What?” The word flies out of my mouth before I can think better. His words have jarred me from my stupor, and I struggle to leverage myself onto my elbows.

He chuckles darkly, his voice bleeding into the surrounding darkness.

I sputter. Not that Iwantedto have sex with the man, but I mean, now I do. After seeing what that mouth do, I want to see what the rest of him can do.

But no. He’s right. We can’t. Weshouldn’t.

He turns his head, kisses my thigh, and rolls off the bed, walking naked to the bathroom. I watch his back and ass flex with every step, more scars littering the expanse of skin there. The need to compare scars and stories arises within me. But that’s what Nik and I used to do on stakeouts when we worked together, and I’ve learned my lesson. No talking about scars. Real or metaphorical.

Dimitri steps into the bathroom, and without a look back at me, he closes the door behind him.

Feeling bereft for some unknown reason, I pad to the closet to find clothes to sleep in. Standing at the dresser in the centre, I pull open a drawer and stare at the sea of lace. I try to find the least sexy set, but come up empty, so I shut the drawer and grab one of Dimitri’s dress shirts from his closet, finally feeling more covered up.

I head to the bathroom, remove my make-up, and wash up after the day’s events. Finally feeling a bit more level-headed and a lot more hygienic, I realise I’m exhausted.

When I reach the bed, Dimitri’s already settled under the duvet on his side, book in hand, turning the page ever so slowly as he reads. He peeks at me over the top of the book and then returns his attention to the page.

Asshole.

I climb in on my side, face the window, close my eyes, and pray for sleep to take me quickly as I spin the simple gold wedding band on my finger.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Nikita

My trousers are halfwayoff when a moan reverberates down the hall towards my miniature sanctuary. I know that moan. I’ve heard that moan with that same desire dripping from it.

Ellie.

Kicking my trousers to one corner of my bedroom, I stride for the door in nothing but my boxer briefs.

There it is again. That groan of passion, but this time, there’s an accompaniment. Dimitri’s moans of satisfaction seep through the crack under his door and find me as I step onto the landing between our rooms. Eyeing the barrier, I know nothing will stop me from peeking.

I know it’s wrong; it’s considered creepy. The thing is, I don’t fucking care.

The handle turns smoothly, and I push the door inward. Soft gasps reach me along with the words, “Good girl, good girl. That’s a good fucking wife.”

Dimitri’s roar barrels through the space, and I keep myself tucked behind the wall. As soon as I turn this corner, I won’t be able to lie to myself anymore. I won’t be able to avoid seeing what I already know is true. My boss is fucking someone I’ve already fucked. And her moans are real, just as real as they were that night so long ago, and my memory of them hasn’t done them justice.

I’ve kept Ellie buried in the memories of the past, only letting thoughts of her surface when I dream. Looking backwards is a good way to fuck up the present.

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