24. Ruslan
24
RUSLAN
I watch Aurora in the mirror through the sliver in the partition, transfixed by each movement of her hands. The universe narrows to that small opening.
A private show meant only for me.
"Mr. Dragunov, regarding the beadwork..." Lauren drones on about pricing options.
"Whatever she wants." My voice comes out rougher than intended.
Aurora's fingers work slowly at the buttons trailing down her back. One by one, they come undone, revealing more of her skin with each release. She catches my gaze in the mirror and holds it, a wicked smile playing across her lips. The dress loosens, slipping forward just enough to expose the curve of her shoulders.
Fucking tease .
"And the rush fee for alterations would be?—"
"Money is no concern." I can't look away from Aurora as she eases the gown down, the fabric grazing her breasts before she catches it.
She's doing this on purpose. Holding the dress against her chest while letting it drop in the back. The sight of her exposed back and hips has my cock hardening against my slacks.
When she finally lets the dress fall to her waist, my throat goes dry. She stands there in nothing but a delicate lace bra, her nipples visible through the sheer fabric. The heat in her eyes matches the fire coursing through my veins.
"While I have her measurements, are there any other requests you might have?" Lauren asks.
I clench my jaw as Aurora turns slightly, giving me a better view of her profile. The swell of her breast. The tantalizing curve of her waist.
At Lauren's question, I let my eyes drift back to the mirror where Aurora stands half-dressed, looking at me with unbridled desire.
"How many dresses can you make for my bride?" The question forms before I even consider it. Aurora deserves every luxury I can provide. Every gown I can drape her in. Every piece of silk and lace I can tear from her body.
Lauren blinks rapidly. "Well, I suppose as many as you'd like, Mr. Dragunov. We could create an entire custom collection for her if you're willing to."
"I am."
My attention remains fixed on the mirror. Aurora's fingers trace the edge of her bra, teasing along the lace before sliding down her stomach. She turns slightly, giving me a glimpse of her hip as she runs her hand along her thigh.
My zarechka knows exactly what she's doing.
When she bites her lower lip, looking at me with those innocent hazel eyes that promise nothing innocent at all, my restraint nearly shatters.
"Ms. Brooks," I say without looking away from Aurora, "why don't you and your assistant go speak with my housekeeper Daria? I'm sure she can arrange some refreshments after all your hard work."
"Of course, Mr. Dragunov. That's very kind." Lauren sets her measuring tape and pins aside and waves at her assistant to follow. "We'll be just a moment."
I wait until I hear the door close, counting the seconds, listening for the fading sound of footsteps down the hallway. Once I'm certain they're gone, I move toward the partition.
Three steps and I'm through it, standing before Aurora who waits for me in nothing but her lingerie and a smile that holds all the confidence of a woman who knows exactly what she wants.
"Bad girl," I murmur.
Aurora's skin glows in the soft light filtering through the windows, catching on the hollow of her throat, the dip of her waist, the gentle swell of her hips.
The contrast between her delicate underwear and the raw hunger in her eyes is intoxicating.
"You're not supposed to see your bride in her wedding dress before the wedding," Aurora says, her voice teasing. There's no embarrassment in her stance, only confidence radiating from every inch of her exposed skin.
I take a step closer, drinking in the sight of her. "You're not in your wedding dress, zarechka ."
A flush spreads across her face, traveling down her neck to her chest. My fingers itch to trace its path.
"Do you remember what you said to me at the club?" she asks, her voice dropping lower. "About whether I'd hit my quota for being bad for the year?"
I remember everything about that night. The taste of her lips, the feel of her against me, and the moment we were interrupted.
"Have you?" I ask, moving closer until I can feel the heat radiating from her skin.
"Not even close," she whispers, and then she's crossing the distance between us, pressing her nearly-naked body against my fully clothed one.
Her lips find mine in a hungry kiss that steals my breath. I pull her against me, one hand tangling in her hair while the other slides down her back, over the curve of her ass. She makes a small sound against my mouth that drives me wild.
My hand slips between her legs, finding her already wet through the lace. She gasps against my mouth as I stroke her, feeling the fabric growing damper beneath my fingers.
My cock strains painfully against my pants, demanding attention, demanding release, and demanding her. The sensation only intensifies when her hand travels down my chest, fingers trailing lower until they reach my belt.
Aurora breaks the kiss, her lips swollen and eyes dark with want. "Are you ready to see just how bad I can be?"
I see that dangerous spark light up her eyes, the one that makes me want to push her past every boundary she's ever set for herself.
"Do you think you can be bad enough to handle me?" I ask, my voice barely more than a growl.
"I do," she whispers, and the certainty in her voice sends heat spiraling through me.
Aurora rises on her toes to press her lips against mine, the kiss soft at first, then hungrier as her hands slide up my chest. Her lips leave mine, traveling down my jaw, my neck, pausing at my collarbone where she nips gently. The hint of teeth against my skin makes me harden further.
She sinks to her knees before me, looking up through those long lashes, her hazel eyes wide and innocent despite what she's about to do. The contradiction isn't lost on me.
This is a woman who runs from cameras and attention.
But she will gladly put herself on display for me and only me.
Her delicate hands stroke my cock through my pants, her touch teasing yet insistent. I feel myself leaking already, a damp spot forming where her fingers trace my length.
"You're ruining my pants, zarechka ," I say, threading my fingers through her hair.
A wicked smile plays across her lips. "That's the idea."
Her fingers work at my belt, then my zipper, movements surprisingly confident. When she finally frees my cock, it springs forward, heavy and swollen with need.
"Oh," she breathes, her eyes widening as she takes in my size.
The expression on her face—that perfect mixture of desire and trepidation—nearly undoes me. Her fingers hesitate, hovering just inches from my cock.
"Still think you can be a bad girl?" I ask, my voice rough with desire.
Aurora slowly shakes her head, her lips parting slightly.
"No," she whispers.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I almost groan at the sight.
"I want to be a good girl now," she says, voice trembling with desire. Her eyes lock with mine, unwavering. "Your good girl."
My cock pulses at her words, growing impossibly harder. I cup her face with one hand, my thumb brushing across her lower lip. She leans into my touch, trusting and eager.
"My good girl?"
She nods.
"Then be a good girl," I tell her, "and open your mouth."