ARIA.
I hadn't taken a shower yet. I probably looked like a mess, but that didn't stop Mikhail from eating me up with his eyes as I took a seat on the table. He stared with an intensity that unnerved me, his eyes trailed over every inch of my skin.
"I didn't think you'd want to join me, malyshka," he murmured. I glanced at him at the head of the long obsidian dining table, wine glass in one hand, black button-down rolled up to his elbows, tattoos coiling up his forearms. I never noticed his tattoos before. They were beautiful.
I glanced away, "I was hungry. That's all."
He nodded calmly, placing his wine down. Tracing my gaze, he asked, "Would you like some wine?"
"Why not." He gestured with a flick of his wrist and Pavel approached with a polite smile. After murmuring his instructions, Mikhail turned to me while Pavel poured me wine.
"Dinner is taking a bit of time as your maid insisted on personally cooking your meal." I sighed. I'd forgotten that Lena was here. I forgot almost everything when I'm around Mikhail.
"You have a dietary restriction?" he asked. I shook my head, "Well, I…struggled with smoking for a bit. My nutritionist begged me to eat certain foods so I wouldn't die," I gave a humorless laugh.
Mikhail wasn't amused. He remained cold for a minute before saying carefully. "You still smoke. Why?"
I shrug. I ask myself that everyday. Knowing I don't handle cigarettes well, why do I smoke? It's my way of coping. Other than fighting, it's the only way I can let myself go. I can't stop it.
The silence grows tense between us until Pavel and a fleet of maids, Lena included, bring out our meals.
"Are you allowed to drink though?" Mikhail asked once everyone left, his eyes on the glass by my side. "I don't struggle with alcohol, it's fine."
We remain silent for minutes until Mikhail lets out a deep sigh. "Aria," he said, tone gentler now. "I know this situation isn't easy for you. It isn't easy for me either. But we're in it for a year. Together."
I paused, unsure where this was going.
He set down his glass, eyes steady. "I'm not asking for love. Or sex. Or even loyalty."
I tilted my head. "Then what are you asking for?"
His jaw flexed, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"Let's try to be… friends."
I stared at him.
Mikhail Volkov. The Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. My enemy.
Offering friendship.
He must have seen the skepticism in my expression, because he added, "Just try? That's all I'm asking."
I took a sip of my wine. It was the best wine I'd ever tasted.
After a long pause, I finally said, "Fine. We can try to be friends."
He raised his glass in silent toast.
I clinked mine against it. I hoped this could actually work.
*****
MIKHAIL.
The door clicked softly behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. When she said she wanted to shower, I honestly didn't hear anything beyond the word shower. Not with the image already forming in my head. The sound of water hissed to life a few seconds later.
I exhaled as I sat on the edge of the bed — our bed — elbows on my knees, fingers laced loosely together. The room was still scented like her. Vanilla and something uniquely her. A smell I was beginning to associate with arousal. With hunger. With restraint.
I leaned back slightly, eyes roaming the room. The soft hum of water behind the door, the faint echo of her footsteps on marble, the clink of glass as she moved something in there — it was all I could hear.
It was all I could think about.
Aria Moretti was my wife. My enemy. My obsession.
And now… apparently, my friend.
I scoffed under my breath.
Friends. As if I could ever want just that from her.
She didn't understand what it cost me to offer that word. Friendship. I never cared about forming a relationship with people. I didn't care, period.
But with her — fucking hell — I was trying.
I stared at the closed bathroom door.
She was in there, completely naked. Water running down her curves. Skin flushed with heat. Hair slicked back, eyes probably closed, unaware that just thinking about her in there made my cock throb like a war drum.
Control, I reminded myself.
She wanted space and I said I'd give it to her.
But one day — maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow — I'd have her. Fully. When she finally wants—no, needs me, like I need her.
The water shut off. She was going to come out any minute from now. I stood, left the room slowly, and prayed that Aria would want me soon before I died of blue balls.
I waited for thirty minutes before I went back into the room. Aria was seated by the dresser wearing a matching satin robe over a champagne-colored chemise trying to tie her hair in a ponytail.
"Need some help?"
"I'm fine," she replied. Gesturing to her clothes seated beside her, she said, "I wasn't sure where to put them."
"The maids. I'll hand it over to them."
"Thank you," she replied.
I stepped out and rung for Pavel. As I waited for him, I tried my best to not think about the warm clothes in my hand. Clothes that had been on Aria's body. Would it be weird to sniff it?
I cast a furtive glance around the room, as if to make sure nobody's watching then I looked through her clothes.
The way my cock hardened at the sight of Aria's lace thong made me groan unconsciously. I was so hard. Harder than I think I've ever been. All because of her panties. But they weren't just on her skin, they were between her legs. They'd touched Aria's sweet pussy. Fuck.
I jerked my head back in a groan, hitting the door hard but I didn't feel a thing. I threw out my decision about not jerking off to Aria at that moment because there was no way I was sleeping tonight if I didn't rub one out.
I snatched it and shoved it into my pocket just as Pavel approached. "Give it to her maid," I said quickly, rushing off and slamming the door behind me.
"Are you okay?" Aria asked, sitting cross-legged on our bed, her laptop balanced on her thighs.
"Yep. All good," I replied quickly, keeping my body angled just enough so she wouldn't notice the obvious bulge between my legs.
She gave a slow, skeptical blink. "Right…" she muttered, clearly unconvinced.
I didn't wait for her to press further. I turned and headed straight for the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a little more force than necessary. That girl was going to be the death of me.
I pull open the shower door, turning on the water. It quickly fills with steam, and I pull off my pants and step in. The hot water feels so good but I can't get my mind off the woman I've been obsessing over. My dick immediately swells, and I feel it growing hard at just the thought of her.
She's attracted to me too, but does she think about me? Fantasize about me touching her? Fucking her? Does she want me? I harden even more at the thought of her in bed wanting me, touching herself to thoughts of me.
I fist my cock, because it's aching so badly and I groan at how good it feels. She fills my head, and I swear I can smell her. I stroke myself harder and when I remember I have her thong, it's like I swell even more. God, this is so wrong. I grab my discarded pants on the floor and snatch the lace from my pockets. It feels warm.
I take a long, deep sniff, letting the smell settle in my lungs. It smells heavenly. I must be psycho. I bring her panties to my dick and begin to fist it as I think about her.
We're on the bed she's currently lying on. She's barely wearing anything and I'm so horny for her. "Aria…" I pant. God, her skin is so soft, and she feels so good. I rub her thighs and hips, up her back and keep her nose buried in my neck. Every inch of her is like an electric current to my dick.
I stroke slower but hold my dick tighter, imagining it's her pussy. Her hot tight pussy.
"I want you," Aria whispers to me. "How do you want me? My fingers? My mouth? Or…my cock?" I breathe her mouthwatering scent. I trail down her stomach, running my lips over her skin and she moans.
I can hardly feel the water cascading on me as I fuck her panties faster, his hips thrusting into my palm rapidly. I want it to be real. I want her in my fucking bed. I feel the blood rushing to my head, and I'm so close already. I can taste her pussy. Jesus, I want to know how she really tastes.
She'd be soaked for me like a good little girl. She'd grind on me, roll her gorgeous ass on my throbbing cock. I jerk myself harder, heat flooding my groin and fire spreading from my stomach and thighs. She'd dig her nails into my shoulders as she rides the hell out of me, taking her pleasure from my cock. Her pussy would take my dick so well.
God, I'm gonna come. I squeeze my cock so hard it tetters on the edge of pain and I shoot, jerking harder and harder as I spill. "Oh, fuck. Fuck!" I yell. "Shit!"
Oh, my God. I drop my head to the shower wall, my cum spilling out all over her little panties, and I slow my hand, my muscles burn as I release the rest. I see spots behind my eyes, but I can still smell her pussy, and I don't want it to be over. I want more. I pant harshly and lick my lips. 'Aria. Aria. Aria…' I repeat in my head.
I can't remember the last time I came like that, but still…it wasn't enough. I take my hand off my cock and sigh. That was supposed to help for fuck's sake, but I can already feel my cock start to harden. I push off the wall with a growl. Fuck no. I need Aria. Some other woman isn't good enough. I'll wait as long as it take but I will have my malyshka. My sweet little girl. Fuck, I'm such a perv.