“Irina,” he yawned out my name, as if bored instead.
And why ever not? He’d watched this very same show many times over the years, he was bound to be sick of it by now. Or sick of me. Yet I couldn’t resist the taunts and the flagrant abuse of the power I held over him, both made me giddy at heart, even if achieving nothing in reality.
“Should I suck him off, dear?”
“Do you think the poor sod cares if you suck him or fuck him?”
Laughing loudly, I took a step away from the table. “Then why don’t we play a different game this evening?” Unwrapping the tie from my dress, I let the fabric fall from my shoulders and wriggled from its confinement, the garment falling to the floor. “Stop,” I ordered, Neil immediately stilling his hand. When he blinked up at me, I kept my tone gentle as I spoke. “You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you, Mrs Ischmova.” Gracefully, he slinked off the edge of the table and left quietly with not so much as a glance in Yannick’s direction.
“Why must you bore me, Irina? Your antics don’t interest me anymore.”
“But once they used to?” Interesting.
Yannick rubbed at his ear. “When a woman sits in front of me with her finger all up in her, it’s quite an enthralling picture. What’s not, is the tease, and a cock tease is what you are. After fifteen years of that shit,” he pointed to the table mat where Neil’s head had been. “Yes, it’s boring, does nothing for me.”
“How many women have you fucked in all those years?” I asked, knowing the answer as well as he did.
“I’m not playing your games.”
“Answer me!” I snapped as I kicked off my heels and climbed up onto the table on all fours.
His venomous stare would have cowed others, not me, I was used to the derogatory manner in which he often regarded me. “None. Not a single one,” Yannick gritted out.
“Fifteen years,” I whispered, crawling the length of the table toward him. “Fifteen years without sticking your dick in a wet pussy. I imagine that’s been considerably difficult for someone as virulent as you once were.”
“I don’t need to fuck pussy to get my rocks off.”
“Do you know how many men I’ve let fuck me, Yan? How many men have come inside your wife, left their spoils while you climbed into bed beside me at night?”
“I’m aware of your indiscretions, don’t mistake me for a fool. I didn’t marry you for the sex.”
“No. You married for penance.”
“And I’ve paid my dues.”
We were close now, him in the chair, me on the table, barely inches apart. He was such a beautiful man to look at - dark, sinister tattoos, a face shadowed with danger - but a hard man to love. I didn’t love him in the conventional way a woman should love her husband, our situation had never afforded such luxury, yet there was a love of some kind, buried deep and seldom shown. A regret I would live with because it was too late now, and who knew, things might have been different had I played a better game, shown more remorse than I felt capable of, softened who I was.
I swung my body around, coming to sit on the edge of the table, legs dangling and my knees wide apart. “You’ve paid your dues,” I agreed. “Will you accept a gift, perhaps two, before you take your leave?”
“Are there conditions attached? I won’t accept if there are.”
“No conditions, darling.” I laced the sweet word with a condescension he was used to hearing.
“Then talk because I’m sure as fuck they’re not pretty little gift boxes tied with bows.”
“I want you to fuck me like you should have your Princess.”
Yannick surreptitiously scanned my body up and down, mild disgust twitching at the corner of his mouth. “The second?”
“I know where your whore, Kayleigh, is.”
He nodded, as if he’d been aware I would already have the information he sought. Always being one step ahead of Yannick Ischmov ensured I’d truly owned him for the years I’d had him. Or perhaps that had been wishful thinking, and I’d never really owned him at all.
“You don’t fuck the way I would.”
Yannick saw a clinical lover, if I could be called a lover at all. I laid my man out, then climbed on top to take my pleasure in a muted, understated way. Nothing adventurous, nothing emotional. Yannick was messy, and fierce, and so damn cruel - he took, and he took with an anger that wasn’t entirely misplaced, considering the limitations put upon him.
“You don’t relish the chance to inflict some pent-up aggression on me?”
“Yosef.” The name punched me in the gut, I hadn’t heard it in so long. Yannick was being brave. “You were his, I won’t ever touch you like he did, he’d never forgive me. I’m sorry, I must decline that particular gift.”
He stood up, moving into the space between my legs, his hands brushing over the skin of my thighs until his fingers dug into my hips and he yanked me forward. Rubbing his hard, jean clad cock against me, I threw my head back at the delicious rasp of the rough material. It was as close as I’d ever get.
Clutching a handful of my hair, Yannick jerked my head forward, his lips to my ear. “I’m hard from the boy on the table, not you, my darling.” Shifting, he tugged again until our noses touched, and I was just a
