Page 22 of Gilded in Blood

I try to shake it off. I swim a few laps, hoping the cool water will calm me down. It doesn’t. If anything, the silence only makes everything worse.

I climb out of the pool, dripping wet, and storm back inside. My skin feels too tight. My body is humming with unmet need.

Fuck him.

I decide to take a hot shower, but even the heat of the water doesn’t help. I spend the rest of the day thinking about Ilya, even during my classes. By evening, I’m wound tight with desire.

After having dinner alone because Ilya still isn’t back from wherever he went, I go straight to my bedroom and dig through my suitcase until I find the small case with my toys.

My hands are shaking slightly as I pull out the rose vibrator, the same one he mocked. The memory of his deep voice teasing me only makes me wetter.

I strip, lie back on the bed, and spread my legs. I don’t let myself think too hard. I just need this. I press the toy against my clit and turn it on.

The low buzz sends immediate pleasure shooting through me. I bite my lip, hips jerking. In my mind, it’s not the toy, it’s him. His big hands pinning me down.

That rough voice growling commands in my ear. The way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me while telling me I was under house arrest.

I circle the vibrating rose faster, sliding it lower to tease my entrance before pressing it back against my swollen clit. A soft moan escapes me. I’m so wet already, so desperately turned on by the man who just locked me inside his apartment.

I imagine him walking in right now, seeing me like this, spread open, fucking myself with the toy he teased me about. Would he be cold and sharp? Or would that control finally snap?

The thought pushes me closer. I slide two fingers inside myself while keeping the rose pressed firmly against my clit, thrusting in time with the vibrations. My breathing turns ragged. My thighs tremble.

“Fuck, Ilya…” I whisper, eyes squeezed shut.

The orgasm crashes over me hard and fast. I cry out, back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure rip through me. I ride it out, hips grinding against the toy until the sensations become too much.

When it finally fades, I lie there panting, staring at the ceiling, my body limp and satisfied. I should feel ashamed for thinking about him while doing this. Instead, all I feel is a dark, dangerous craving for more.

I suddenly have the feeling that I’m not alone, and I turn my head toward the doorway. Ilya is standing there, still and silent, eyes dark and locked on me. Heat floods my face.

How long has he been standing there? What exactly did he see?

I freeze, mortified.

“Ilya—” My voice comes out breathless, barely there.

“Don’t stop.” His voice is low, rough, commanding. It wraps around me like smoke. “Keep going.”

My breath catches. Did I hear that right? He wants me to keep going? I should cover myself. But the heat in his gaze, the way he’s staring like he wants to devour me…

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kirill

I hadn't planned on coming back so soon.

The meeting with Michael was supposed to clear my head.

Instead, I spent thirty minutes alone in the back corner of a private lounge, waiting for the bastard who never bothered to show. When he finally texted to say he couldn't make it, I headed back to the penthouse, irritated and more on edge than when I'd left.

Before leaving, I'd spent some time securing Milana's phone, making sure it couldn't be traced once she started using it again. I still had it with me when I got back. The apartment was quiet, and when I didn't see her anywhere, I assumed she was in her room. I figured I'd drop the phone off before heading to mine.

Of all the things I'd expected to find when I pushed open her bedroom door, it sure as hell wasn't Milana sprawled across the sheets completely naked, legs parted, whispering my––that name like a filthy prayer while her fingers sank deep into her glistening, dripping pussy, while a buzzing toy pressed hard against her swollen clit.

“I said to keep going,” I growl.

I watch her resume moving her fingers, slower now, shy under the weight of my stare. The vibrator continues its relentless buzz against her swollen clit, making her hips twitch.