He palms my folds, rubbing his hand up and down. I moan softly, unable to fight the pleasure he’s so good at wringing from my body.

“How’s my good girl feeling tonight? Still sore?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“You won’t be sore forever. Soon, your body will get used to mine.” He removes his hand from between my legs and replaces it with his hips. As his length brushes against my entrance, I remember the pain and the pleasure he brought me last night. “You will let me fuck you tonight, and I will make you feel so good.”

I gasp and arch my back up. “Yes.” I want this. Why do I want this again? My brain is scrambled. I just know I need Mikhail and nothing else.

Mikhail grips my hips and thrusts into me. I’m still tight, and with my soreness, it almost hurts more tonight than it did last night. I cry out.

“You will take me inside you,” he growls, grinding his hips against mine. I can feel him fill me up. Every time he thrusts back into me, it hurts, but there are those spikes of pleasure again coming out from the darkness.

My hands can’t hold onto him. I’m weightless. I clench my fingers around the cuffs to find something to steady me.

Mikhail growls as he drives his erection deeper within me. He’s not holding back. “Are you my good girl? Tell me.”

“Yes!”

“Tell me.” He holds my hips tighter.

“I’m your good girl,” I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut from the sensation of everything.

He thrusts into me again and again and again. I’m powerless to stop it. I don’t think I even want to stop it.

Every time he drives his length out of me and pushes it back in, I feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through me.

Mikhail lets go of my hips and places his hands on the bench, leaning closer to me. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist as I shift my hips up, trying to reach him even more.

“I want you to kiss me,” I say.

His eyes soften before he leans down and captures my lips within his. We’re chest to chest now. Closer than we’ve ever been.

The kiss doesn’t last long, though. Mikhail sits back up and increases his pace, thrusting into me with wild abandon. The sound of our bodies moving together is almost vulgar. The only other sounds in the room are my breathless pants and Mikhail’s deep growls.

“Come for me, baby,” he says, driving his length in harder. I make a sound that’s a cross between a moan of pleasure and a cry of pain. “Be my good girl.”

God, I want nothing else.

Without even expecting it, my release hits me. “Mikhail,” I gasp, my body trembling and shuddering.

Mikhail groans as he quickly follows with his own release. Once again, I feel his seed inside me. We haven’t discussed children yet, and I’m not sure why we haven’t.

He removes himself from me and then unties my hands from the cuffs. My arms drop clumsily to my sides. “Stay there,” he instructs as he walks over to grab a towel from the table and dip it into a bowl of water. He comes back and begins to clean me. It’s hard to focus on anything else except for his hand between my legs, wiping me down.

“Why did you stop kissing me?” I ask.

He pauses. “Because I got caught up in the moment.” He resumes rubbing the towel over my folds and inner thighs.

“I wanted you to keep kissing me,” I admit.

He pulls away and walks back over to the table, setting the towel down.

I sit up and wrap my arms around my body. “Why haven’t we had sex in our bed?”

“What?” He glances at me.

“We had sex at the club and now in here. Why haven’t we made love in our bed?”

“Because this is how I do things, Sofiya.”

Are you keeping me at a distance? I felt it the moment he pulled away from the kiss. Even though Mikhail has asked me to give my entire self over to him, he’s still keeping me at a slight distance. I can feel it.

“What if I want to have sex in our bed?” I ask.

“I’ll gladly fuck you for however long you want.”

I flinch. He didn’t say “in our bed,” though.

Sighing, he walks over to me and pulls me up to stand. “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me, and I cling to his back, stuffing my face into his chest. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like what we did?”

I can’t deny it. “Yes.”

He cups my face in his hands. “My good girl.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, then steps back. Playtime is over. It’s time for me to go back to our bedroom, where I get the sense I’ll be spending the night by myself again.

Not wanting to be alone, I gather Vik and Mila, and we converge in Vik’s room. There’s an unspoken promise between Vik and me that we won’t tell Mila what happened between Mikhail and me.

Mila doesn’t need to know.

“I’ve missed eating chips,” Mila says, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. “During the season, I never get to eat anything unhealthy.”

“Ballet is our lives,” Vik says, snatching the bag of chips away. “You shouldn’t be eating these.”

“Come on, Vik. Let Mila eat them. In fact, I’ll eat some myself.” I grab the bag back, take out a huge chip, and stick the whole thing in my mouth, making Mila giggle.

“Remember when Father would stuff a heaping mouthful of food into his mouth?” Mila asks. “It always grossed Mom out.”

“I do remember. That man could eat like no other.”

Vik crosses her arms and leans back against the headboard. “And it was disgusting. Mom had it right.”

“Mom always had it right,” I say softly. “I miss her. So much.”