Charlie
It’s alreadyeight-thirty by the time I get home from the deli. My feet throb in my gym shoes and my head hurts. Other than the lights in the hallway, the condo is dark. Nikolai must not be home yet.
I pause, catching my own twisted thinking. This isn’t my home. This is Nikolai’s home. This is just my prison for another three weeks until he’s forgiven Oliver’s stupid debt. Maybe not a complete prison; he hasn’t stopped me from working this week. He’s been annoyingly protective by making Viktor drive me every morning and pick me up every evening, but at least he hasn’t made him babysit me all day like he did that first day.
The bedroom’s empty. Nikolai sent me a text a few hours ago, saying he’d be working late. He said he’d have my dinner ready when I got home. I called the housekeeper and put an override on his order. I’m too tired to eat. I’m sure he’ll be pissed about it if he finds out, but I’m betting he’ll be too tired himself to care. He was up and gone this morning before I even woke up and he’ll probably roll into bed after midnight.
And he’ll drape his arm over me and pull me tight against his body before kissing me behind my ear.
I sigh as I toss my purse on the chair beside the dresser. I need a cold shower from thinking about the way his touch makes me feel, but my body is screaming for a hot bath.
I decide on the bath first; desiring his touch and feeling guilty about it can wait until later.
After digging around beneath the sink, I find a bottle of body wash. It’s not the same as the bubble bath flakes I have at home, but it will do in a pinch. While the tub is filling with water hot enough to boil an egg in, I strip out of my work clothes. My shirt reeks of onions, thanks to making that last three-foot submarine sandwich for Jimmy Thompson’s poker game tonight.
My muscles give a collective sigh of relief as I settle myself into the tub. One of the part-timers called in sick at the last minute, and we actually had a steady day of customers, so I stayed to help for the evening.
I’m going to miss this tub when I go back to my normal life. The one I have at home is just your standard bathtub. Even with my short stature, I have to bend my knees to fit completely in it. This tub, though, there’s enough room in here for at least one more person.
Maybe Nikolai would like to slide in here with me. I’m sure we could find something to help us both relax while sinking beneath the bubbles.
The thoughts of his lips against mine, his fingers spreading my pussy open and his tongue roaming over my skin are enough to make me rethink relaxing. I slide my hand beneath the bubbles and gently begin to rub my clit. Thinking again about his mouth on me, on my clit, on my nipples, on my throat—it drives my arousal up higher. His cock thrusting in and out of me while he bites down on my neck. Fuck, I love when he does that.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the edge of the cliff. My toes curl against the porcelain tub as I rub harder and faster. His tongue—remembering how hot and inviting his tongue is—is just enough to flip the switch and send me hurtling down, down, down from the peak of my arousal.
As the first wave hits, I scream, calling out his name and moaning. No one’s home, so I unleash without fear. It’s exhausting. My body crumples against the tub when the last bit of my orgasm fades away.
“That looked like fun.” Nikolai’s voice cracks through my brain fog and my eyes snap open.
He’s leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He’s already stripped off his shirt and shoes. He’s just standing there in his trousers.
“I… I thought you weren’t home.” I gather up the last of the bubbles and bring them closer to my chest. As though he’s never seen my bare breasts before, or there’s anything I can hide from him at this point.
“I wasn’t.” He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to the tub, standing right beside me. His dick is obviously pushing against the zipper of his pants. “I am now.”
“I can see that.” I sink lower into the water.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks, grabbing his belt buckle and starting to undo it. I check his eyes, they’re calm. His jaw is relaxed.
He shoves his pants down and picks them up.
“I did,” I say, because he just watched me come completely unglued while masturbating —and screaming out his name—so why would I lie?
He smiles, but it’s a half smile. Like he’s too exhausted to even tease me about it. He disappears back into the room then comes back without his pants. He’s just in his boxers now. A pair of black cotton boxers and bare feet.
His back is to me while he brushes his teeth. Every time he moves, I can make out his muscles flexing. When he turns back around, I take in his chest, his abs, that damn v shape thing he’s got going on. It’s not fair to find your captor so damn attractive. It’s not fair that I’m supposed to hate him, but I can’t seem to muster up the feelings.
“You look stressed,” I say when he just stares at me.
“I’m tired, that’s all.” He still has that tent in his boxers. His eyes drift down my face to my breasts peeking out of the bathwater. The bubbles have diluted so much by now, they’re no help in covering anything. “You look like you had a hard day.”
“It was busy today. It was a good day.” I move to sit sideways in the tub, crossing my legs to accommodate my position. “It hasn’t been busy like that in a long time.”
He hooks his hands on his hips, and it makes him look even sexier. “The bubbles are all gone.”
“I’ve been in here a little while,” I nod.
He stares at me again, longer this time like he’s debating something in his head. Finally, he grabs the towel hanging from the rod next to the tub and curls his hand, signaling me to get up.