Page 4 of Baby for the Bratva King

I’ve never climaxed, not properly. Inserting a finger into my pussy is as exciting as it gets for me. The only way I can come is if I’m thinking about Felix.

I glance down at my outfit, giving myself a wakeup call.

Bottom of the food chain, Saskia.

“You’re allowed to use the proper name of things, sweetheart.” Felix glides his hand over his cock. “But I understand your hesitation. You seem rather coy.”

“I’m not coy.”

“Great, then take off your clothes and join me in the shower.”

Holy hell.

“I have work to do.”

Felix angles his head to the side. “And yet you’re still here, staring at my cock, wondering how it might feel if I slid inside.” He turns off the shower, leaving the cubicle. “You’re in denial about something.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” he asks, water slapping the bathroom tiles as he walks toward me, cock laying thick against his stomach. “You don’t look fine.” He studies me carefully. “Perhaps you’ve never seen a naked man before.”

“I have seen plenty,” I say, heading toward the door in a panic. “Your sheets need washing.”

“The sheets can wait,” says Felix. “You’re wet.”

“I’m not,” I say, arousal dripping down my thighs.

“Your skirt.” Felix gestures to my uniform. “I can help you undress if you like.” Deep lines appear between his brows as he drinks me in, dragging his eyes up and down my helpless form. “Is that honeysuckle I can smell?”

“I changed out the old flowers, replaced them with a new bunch.”

Felix steps closer, inhaling me deeply. “Such a beautiful smell.”

“Let me guess—sweet with dark undertone?”

“You have a good memory.”

I reshuffle my weight onto the other foot, staring up into his eyes. “Did you say my name earlier?”

A smile creeps onto his face. “Afraid your deepest, darkest desires are trying to communicate with you?”

“Answer the question.”

Felix steps in, water dripping from his body. His frame engulfs me, making me feel small and insignificant.

“You’re terrible at hiding your attraction from me, sweetheart.” He traces a finger under my jaw. “I see you eye fucking me from across the room, pretending to downplay your own arousal; clenching your thighs together under the table if we’re eating dinner together, sometimes even sliding a finger down there.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “If we never ask, we never receive. I’m doing you a favor.” His gaze shifts. “Have you ever been touched before?”

“Mr. Pozharsky⁠—”

“Please, call me Felix. We both know you want to break the boundary and see how I feel inside of you.” He glances between my thighs, staring there. “You know, my last maid wore a full-length skirt all the way down to the floor, but I had your skirt made shorter so I could see your skin.” He trails his finger along my thigh. “Your skin is so soft, sweetheart, like milk. You must bruise easily with that fair complexion.”

I gasp, hating myself for how much I want this.

“Turn around.”

Like a dog obeying its master, I obey, spinning around, facing the wall as Felix admires me from behind.

“Why are you so in denial?” he asks, his rough fingers drifting under the pinafore, touching bare skin.