Vienna Betrayal - Lila Dubois Page 0,36

can attend to you.”

The words were formal, and she felt a pang of regret that the dirty-talking, sometimes didn’t use complete sentences Alexander was retreating back into his taciturn shell.

He took the plug to the small in-room bathroom—easily distinguished by the familiar stick people plaque on the door.

Alena started to lay back so she could spread her knees as he’d ordered, but stopped.

This was supposed to be aftercare. He shouldn’t be giving orders, he should be helping her transition away from a submissive headspace.

It didn’t feel like last night’s aftercare. Playing with her nipples, fucking her ass with the plug rather than just removing it, had blurred the line.

He’d proven last night that he was both capable of, and good at, aftercare, so this deviation wasn’t the result of ignorance.

There was one, very obvious, explanation. Alexander was as affected by their scene, was as reluctant to end this, as she was.

Good, that will make this easier.

She shook her head to get rid of that nasty thought. Rather than lay back and lewdly spread her legs, Alena grabbed one of the large pillows and propped it up against the wrought iron “arm” of the daybed couch.

She stretched out on her side, arm on the pillow, head propped in her hand. Her other arm lay resting on her hip, and the urge to slide her hand down into her panties, to stroke herself to orgasm, was squeezing her.

Alena lifted her chin, kept her hand on her thigh, and waited.

A moment later Alexander emerged. The plug was nowhere in sight, but he held a stack of linen and a small bowl.

He stopped when he saw her, his gaze wandering from her toes up to her face.

“That wasn’t how I told you to wait.”

“I’ll move… I’ll obey, if we’re still scening. But if this is aftercare…” She arched an eyebrow.

Alexander’s lips compressed into a line. Then his shoulders sagged. Alena pulled her knees up to make room for him as he sat. She rolled onto her back, her shoulders and head propped up by the pillow so she could see him.

“It’s aftercare. My apologies.” He gingerly set the bowl of water down and dipped a washcloth into it.

As he wrung out the excess water, Alena stretched out one leg, sliding her foot across his thigh.

“I wasn’t complaining. Just clarifying.” She pointed her toes, rubbing them across the laces of his leathers. “I think neither of us is fully satisfied yet.”

This time when she arched her brow, she smiled.

Alexander grasped her ankle, lifting her foot away from his crotch. He bent his head and for a minute she thought he’d kiss her foot, and some long-buried saccharine part of her was giddy, citing that one ridiculously romantic scene in The Scarlet Pimpernel.

Alexander glanced at her, the corner of his mouth kicked up in a sexy little smirk, and then he yanked on her leg.

Alena yelped as she slid across the slick fabric, coming to rest with her butt nestled up against the side of his thigh, her knees bent.

Alexander laughed, and for a moment he seemed young and carefree. A man unmarked by life’s stresses and strain, wearing a simple gray t-shirt while he teased a girl.

Alena wiggled her ankle out of his grasp, then hooked her leg around his neck. His laughter died as his gaze turned hot. His attention drifted from her face to breasts, then to the apex of her thighs. He turned his head, breath fanning her leg as his hand skimmed down her thigh towards her pussy. Alena let her other leg fall open, her body splayed for him, every worry and dark emotion that had plagued her since he’d taken her off the spanking bench forgotten.

His fingers stopped a millimeter away from her soaked panties.

“You’re right,” he murmured against her skin. “This is aftercare. I shouldn’t play with you.”

“Oh, that’s just mean.”

“You enjoy mean.”

“I do.” Alena tightened her leg, forcing his head down. “Clearly neither of us is totally, fully satisfied. Why don’t we scene again tonight, while we still can?”

Alexander closed his eyes and turned his face into her leg. His teeth grazed her skin, causing goosebumps.

“We can’t. I can’t.”

“Why?” Alena rubbed her hand up and down his forearm, which was in easy reach since he’d planted his hand on the couch beside her waist.

“I’d want more. I told you that— I told you that I’d… The things I would do to you…they’re dark things.”

His quiet, halting words, laced with conviction, gave her pause. She hadn’t been scared

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