I nodded. “A long time ago,” I said.
“Santo allowed that?” he asked, his expression unchanging.
“We didn’t advertise,” I finally said.
I thinned my lips and looked away, thinking back.
Michael and I had once talked about this, except I’d been pushing for us to be more open and he’d done everything to avoid it. Back then, his unwillingness to speak up had been the end of our physical relationship, just as it had ended our friendship now.
We’d never been a love match, simply one of physical convenience and familiarity, but his unwillingness to confront my father had stunted any affection I might have grown for him.
I looked up at Sergei again.
“We haven’t been together for years, and we won’t be again,” I said.
“And he knows that?”
“He knows,” I said.
Sergei watched me, his eyes heavy-lidded, but after a moment, I saw the tension begin to relent. He stepped away from me and sat at the small garden table.
“Pretty dress,” he said a moment later.
The words were bland, but the look he gave me was anything but. He’d seen and touched every part of me, but the glint in his eye now sent a flush of heat over my skin.
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice deeper than I’d intended.
“Come here,” he said.
Without thought, I stood, circled the small table, and walked to him. The sun was warm on my skin, but it didn’t even rate, not when Sergei was looking at me with burning eyes. I let my gaze drop, and though he held his body casually, the standard cargo pants and T-shirt replacing his suit, I saw his interest.
All thought of anything but him fell away.
There was the tightness in his jaw, the way his hand lay curled against his leg. The ever-growing ridge between his thighs, his thickness apparent even through pants.
My mouth started to water and my pussy clenched. I couldn’t decide what I wanted. Him in my mouth again, his length and thickness almost too much for me to handle, though I was more than eager to try.
Or maybe thrusting inside me, his hardness filling me, his strong body above me, beneath me.
Sergei stood abruptly, his huge, hard body making my sex clench.
He reached for me and I trembled when his hand settled on my hip, scorching through the material of my dress. Eyes on mine, he started to move his hand in slow circles, rubbing me in a gentle fashion that conflicted with the hungry edge in his eyes.
“Take your panties off,” he said.
I reached under my dress and started to pull, my motions jerky, jittery with my desire. When I dropped my panties and stepped out, I looked at him, my body warming at the look of approval on his face.
He still stroked my hip and was slowly driving me insane, my pussy fluttering wildly, my inner thighs getting slick with my cream. I reached for him, but he stilled me with a look.
“Pull up your dress,” he said.
That flush intensified, but I complied, lifting the dress up, holding the hem in my hand.
Sergei released his hold and then took the skirt from my hands and bunched it around my waist. The sun was warm against my ass, the air cool against my pussy. He put his hand back on my bare hip and began to move it in circles again.
I moaned, the sound shockingly needy, but it shouldn’t have been. My desire for Sergei, his ability to draw a reaction from me, had never been in doubt.
That moan intensified when he lowered down, his body brushing mine, his shirt soft against my thighs.
“Sergei,” I said on a sigh when he nudged my pussy with his nose and then breathed deep.
“Daniela,” he said, his voice muffled, his breath hot against me, making me even wetter than I already was.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand, threaded my fingers in his hair. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pull him away or push him closer, but he took the choice from me.
He breathed deep. “You smell so good.”
In the next breath, he kissed me, stroked his tongue between my wet pussy lips, lingering over my hole for a moment but not nearly long enough.
“You taste good too,” he said, his breath on my sex unlike anything I had ever felt before.
“Oh God!” I yelled, tightening my fingers in his hair.
He breathed deep again, and a low groan burst from his chest, one that made it seem like he was experiencing the most amazing thing ever. He kissed me again in earnest, licking and drinking from me as if I were a rare treat.
I’d never felt more beautiful, more treasured. It didn’t matter that I was outside, where anyone could hear me, see me. I couldn’t hold back and instead I screamed out loud, not caring who heard me, as long as he did.
Sergei pulled back and looked up at me, his eyes bright. “Louder. Let me hear you,” he said, seeming to have read my thoughts.