There was a small silence. He willed her to talk to him. The easier she could talk about the subject, the more he knew he would be safe trying anything he wanted. He would trust her to object if she didn’t like it or tell him if she was nervous.

“I want to learn to please you, Fyodor, to bring you the kind of pleasure you bring me.” Her voice got a little stronger. “That’s important to me.”

His heart clenched at her admission. He moved her leg to get her lips clear. Already she looked smooth and bare so that he wanted his mouth there all over again.

“Tell me what you want to do first?”

“Explore. Take my time. Kiss every single scar on your chest and back. The ones on your belly and that single line across your . . .”

“Cock. And it’s your cock so you can kiss it, suck it, fist it, deep throat it, do whatever the hell you want to do. Trust me when I say it’s going to love being inside that sweet mouth of yours.”

He was looking right between her legs, and every word elicited fresh citrus-cinnamon-spice cream. She liked the images in his head. Clearly the things he said turned her on. He was careful to get every hair and not cut or give her razor burn. As in all things, he was meticulous in his detail. That had been drilled into him from an early age and there was no changing it.

“I definitely want to do every single one of those things,” she assured in a low tone. “All of them.”

The intercom buzzed. “Boss, we’ve got company. Elijah and Joshua are here.”

He sighed as he cleaned off every bit of shaving cream remaining, feeling her gaze on him. “I’m sorry, malyutka, you can rest, or take a bath and then rest. This might take a little while.” Elijah was going to be angry. He had to have heard about the fire at the Amodeo estate. There were dead bodies scattered all over his house and sooner or later he’d hear of the missing cop, security guard and dispatcher. Honestly, he didn’t give a fuck how angry Elijah was, but he still had to deal with it.

“It’s the middle of the night, Fyodor,” she protested, clearly not wanting to give him up. “Why would they come this late?”