Page 31

Yuriy laughed like I’d paid him a compliment.

But if he was a psychopath, what did that make me, since I bent over the sink for him again? I watched him over my shoulder as he peeled my pants back down my thighs. My stomach lurched at the way he skimmed his palms over my cheeks.

Yuriy drew back, but his eyes remained fastened on my ass as if he was fascinated by it. My heart skipped a beat. The way he was looking at me… No one had ever sexualized me like that before. Made me feel like a piece of meat.

I clenched my asshole at the strange tingling there. A tingle of need…for what? Yuriy to fuck me? My cock jerked, and my breathing turned shallow.

But I’m not gay.

Confused, I fought to keep my gaze averted from the mirror, from the vision of Yuriy studying my exposed flesh. But my eyes betrayed me, tracking his movements as he freed his cock.

Fuck.

Of course he was huge.

Cocky bastard knew he was hung.

He was as long as he was thick with several piercings—at a glance, at least four—flowering the head like a crown. The sight should have repulsed me. Instead, it held its own kind of allure. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from it.

“You like what you see, Stas?”

I jerked my head around and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing. I had to calm down. He had a nice cock. So what? His whole personality was built on his size. Everyone knew the size of a man’s cock wasn’t what pleased someone in the bedroom.

The obscene sound of skin rubbing against skin pulled me out of my thoughts. Yuriy’s respiration, previously controlled, now carried an urgent tempo that sucked in the room’s air and bounced it off the walls. Each wet slide of his hand was a declaration of what he was doing while staring at my ass.

I tried to keep my mind from the noises, from the burgeoning pressure in my groin, but the more I resisted, the louder they seemed to echo around me.

“Want to know what I’m thinking about, Stas?” A breath sound scraped from his throat. “I’m imagining you under me. With your backside raised high and this perfect ass spread wide.” His voice had lowered to a guttural growl, the harsh edge enough for my cock to stand at full attention. “I can just see it, Stas. You writhing and begging for it, begging for my cock to fill you.”

The image was filthy, utterly ridiculously filthy, but it sent a jolt of heat rushing through my veins. A fierce combination of anger and desire gripped me. It was as if my whole body had caught fire, and my skin prickled with awareness of his eyes on me.

I tightened my fists against the surge of my arousal. The hardness of my cock, the wetness at its tip, were undeniable reminders of my traitorous body.

“No one would ever know.” His words sliced through the thick silence. “Your secret would be safe with me.”

“Shut up, Yuriy,” I said between gritted teeth.

His moans grew louder, unbridled. “No one would know I made Stanislav Zhukovsky grind on my dick like a cockslut.”

I didn’t respond, unable to muster words amid the swirling chaos of conflicting emotions. If I opened my mouth, I didn’t know what would slip out. I clutched the edge of the sink to avoid reaching for my cock and jerking off at the images he’d put in my head.

“Fuck. I’m coming.”

My pulse quickened when Yuriy grunted, then howled, the sound filling my ears, daring me to look. I opened my eyes. Yuriy’s face, contorted with pleasure as he jerked hard and fast on his cock. Liquid streams shot from the glistening tip, splashing on my ass, each droplet hot and stinging, searing into my flesh. The scent of cum, musky and potent, filled the air, invading my senses.

Fuck.

The sight of him coming, the evidence clinging wetly to my skin, was more erotic than anything I’d ever witnessed.

“Arggh,” Yuriy panted, his shoulder slumping. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took.

Disbelief, fury, and humiliation swirled inside me.

What the fuck had I done?

“Fuck, that’s beautiful.” Yuriy fell to his knees behind me, and I froze.

“What do you think you’re doing?”