Chapter 26 Slippery Slope #2
She’d showered here before, right where he was standing, her lithe body wet beneath the stream of water. Enveloped in steam, Mikko’s mind wandered as her scent overwhelmed him. The picture his mind conjured up had his body tensing.
Her eyelashes glimmering with water droplets as she gazed up at him in reverence. Her hair was a dark river plastered across her skin, one he wanted to dive into, tugging and pulling her closer.
And the water sluicing down her body…
He imagined his tongue there to catch every stray drop hugging her curves
A weightlessness overcame him. Levi might be able to physically touch her, but Mikko was going to leave his mark on her in other ways. Without a second thought, he grabbed her loofah and her body wash. Lathering up with her soap, he placed the abrasive material to his skin.
Dirty and intimate, were the only words repeating themselves in his mind.
Leisurely, he scrubbed every inch of his body knowing her scent would follow him home. His own musk would embed itself onto her things too, a private trade. A secret for them to share when Levi left her all alone. It brought a smug smile to his face.
With the water at his side and the slippery soap covering every inch of his body, Mikko’s mind shifted and began picturing her as he always did: framed by her window, protected from him by the glass.
He’d watch as she’d undress deliberately slow.
The ink of her tattoos vivid against her tanned skin in her dimly lit bedroom.
Do hers have meaning like mine, or are they something to fill the void?
He’d have to ask her later. Right now, it didn’t matter; his perverse thoughts did nothing to quell the hunger mounting in his heart. Burying his emotions might be easier, but letting them out felt so, so good.
A groan tore free from his mouth as he stroked his cock.
His other hand rested against the bright tile lining her shower.
Its cool kiss should’ve erased the heat building within him, but he hardly felt it.
Adding a pump of her conditioner to his hand to remove any unwanted friction, Mikko slowly edged himself.
Each movement, every squeeze, had the world around him blurring.
What would her mouth feel like wrapped around me? Her tight little cunt?
His pants echoed around him, his breaths short and fast to match the speed of which he touched himself. He quickly realized that jerking off with her scarf had only whetted his appetite for more. That watching her had only made things worse.
Fuck.
He didn’t want to intimidate or interrogate her; he wanted to consume her as she had him.
He’d gone weeks with her in his mind, plaguing him every chance she got.
Everywhere he went, she was always conveniently there, and he was starting to wonder if she was following him.
It didn’t matter, he supposed; Mikko was going to make her pay.
No one came into his life and fucked it up without sacrificing something.
Especially when they had him like this—
His hips bucked against his hand, blood rushing in his ears, and Mikko pumped his fist faster before slowing back down. It was a give and take just like he would with Anika.
Steadily, painfully, Mikko worked his hardened length as thoughts of tearing Anika’s clothes off with his hands and teeth, impatience coating every gesture, formed in his mind.
Precum leaked from the tip of his cock and dripped onto the shower floor, quickly washed away.
If only his lewd thoughts could follow suit.
The water’s delicious heat seared through him, mimicking what he thought Anika’s nails would feel like marking his back. The thought of them stabbed into her couch flashed across his mind again. He gritted his teeth.
There was a lethal anger in her, one that was sure to consume her if she let it, but a part of Mikko wanted her to take it out on him.
Everything she’d held back, he’d take. Just as he’d contained himself for so long, unable to let anyone in for the fear of being ridiculed, he would unleash on her. Tongue and teeth and nails.
And before he could stop himself, Anika was there. The steam swirled around her body, her skin appearing soft and wet and oh, so kissable. Her figure wavered in the haze as if she were a mirage, a temptation making an appearance when he was weakest.
Fitting, he thought.
She was right there, so close he could almost taste her.
Water droplets clung to her flesh and strands of her ebony hair were plastered across her neck and shoulders, the swirling pattern one he wanted to follow with his fingertips.
He didn’t miss the way the strands hugged the swell of her breasts.
A soft blush dusted her cheeks from the temperature of the water, and her lust was evident in her amber eyes.
The deviousness he knew so well manifested itself to him.
He could faintly feel her fingers tracing the linework of his tattoos, following the designs and floral edges until he was shivering.
Anika stepped closer, the heat of her own body somehow palpable through the steam.
Reverently she grazed over the scars littering his skin, each containing a story of their own—some earned and others given.
Mikko stifled a whimper, but for once, he wasn’t ashamed of his marred skin.
If it meant she’d touch him, he’d uncover every layer for her to inspect.
While his first tattoo had been an act of rebellion almost two decades ago, the rest had been because Mikko thought himself ugly, his mottled skin damaged. When he coveted beautiful things, his own imperfections afflicted him.
So, he covered them up. One by one.
Her hands crept lower before slipping across his abdomen and playfully stopping right below his navel. His breath hitched as her nails bit into his skin slightly.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she crooned, her saccharine smile at odds with her risque touch. His resolve faded. “I know how much you like to watch.”
She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Her words struck a chord, but it wasn’t worth denying it. It was who he was—someone always willing to observe from the shadows.
“You make it easy,” he panted in response to her voice resonating in his mind.
Anika let her fingers glide back up over his slick chest and gently intertwined them in his hair. His nerve endings were on high alert, body wound so fucking tight it felt like he’d snap at any moment. His hips canted up into his hand, chasing his pleasure all while she hummed against his skin.
“What can I say? I like knowing you’re always there, laying in wait.
” One of her hands released the nape of his neck and drifted to the closing space between them.
Faintly, her touch wrapped around his, mirroring his stroking motions.
“And I like knowing that you can’t help yourself—that you have to touch yourself to release the ache building here. ”
“Yes, I—”
She squeezed his cock, tightening his fist in tandem to draw his pleasure out. Mikko’s chest heaved and the rest of his words died out.
Pulling harshly, Anika exposed his neck to her with the hand still intertwined in his hair, nails scraping along his scalp.
Groaning, Mikko let her overpower him, and his knees weakened as her lips skimmed the base of his throat.
If she kept this up—if he kept this up—he wasn’t going to be able to last long.
“Always so put together on the outside, but little does the world know…” she murmured against his wet skin, “you’re falling apart on the inside.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Shut. Up,” he gritted out, the words falling out of his mouth in tandem with his pumping hand.
“Poor baby. Let me touch you, I can make you feel so good.”
“N-no—don’t.” He didn’t know why he bothered to answer, no one there to hear, but the trembling words fell from his lips regardless.
“Liar. You think I don’t see the way you look at me, the way you send Levi after me all while wishing it was you?”
He jerked, her accusations and the friction from his hand overstimulating him.
Any other person whispering these words to him wouldn’t have made it home alive, but her…
well, he wanted to be abused by her only if it meant she’d pay him an ounce of attention.
That was what he’d been chasing ever since the club.
Gravity swept out from under his feet. The only thing keeping him grounded was the single fingertip she traced up his bicep. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he knew she was tracing the snake winding around his upper arm.
“Mikko, Mikko, Mikko,” she repeated, the way her lips formed his name making his heart thunder beneath his ribcage. He never wanted her to stop saying it; he yearned for it to be the only name she’d ever remember. “Ever the snake, crawling on your belly to me…”
She was right.
A grunt was his only response. Rhythmically, he thrusted his hips forward to meet his hand, wet smacks resonating in the small space as if this had always been the solution to his self-induced problems. God, if only it were that—
“How badly do you want to fuck me?” she asked, teeth latching onto his earlobe, canines scraping across the tender flesh.
Sparks erupted behind his closed eyelids, his brows furrowed in an attempt to hang on—to hold off on his release. Mikko didn’t want to finish in here where his evidence would be washed away down the drain. No, he wanted her to come home and find his release smeared on things she loved.
Like her scarf.
Loosening his hold on his cock, he quickly turned the shower off.
Anika’s figure dissipated, evaporating along with the steam.
Roughly, he pushed the shower curtain aside as spots crept into the corners of his vision.
Stepping out, he watched as water flew off his limbs and splattered onto the floor and walls.
But that was not what held his attention.
Mikko’s eyes latched onto the cosmetics at her sink.
With a sinful grin of his own, he found himself dripping wet before her makeup products.
His hair dripped and hung in his eyes all while he fisted his cock again.
Release coiled at the base of his spine, only a few pumps needed to get him to come.
His skin shone with the residual water, but he was too busy imagining Anika discovering the mess he was about to make.
And the way her lip gloss covered mouth would look wrapped around his cock, molten eyes looking up at him begging for everything he was giving.
After being forever unreadable, he could finally understand what she wanted.
Fucking into his hand, Mikko yearned to make her cry, makeup streaking down her cheeks ruining her own perfect facade she kept up no matter what. He knew there was more lurking below the surface—things she never showed. And he wanted that barrier gone.
Blood rushed his head, cock pulsing with the impending release that was sure to explode out of him.
“Yes, yes, yes…” he chanted, his hand tightening to emulate the feeling of her pussy milking him.
The edge he’d been teetering on fell away, his climax washing over him as his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
Hot ropes of cum spurted out, his release splattering over the basin of her sink and cosmetics.
His knees trembled with the release. Warm relief flooded his body, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he stood there wearily.
Her soft laughter filled his head. Or maybe that was his own, the sudden exhaustion washing over his body making it hard to discern reality from make believe.
Cracking open his eyes, the lights suddenly bright, Mikko glanced around.
Drip, drip, drip.
His hearing faded back in, the steady drip of water falling from his body and onto her bathroom floor grounding him.
Releasing his hold on his cock, Mikko stepped back, light headed from the exertion.
Even though he didn’t know what time it was exactly, he had a feeling his window of opportunity was closing.
Quickly, he used her towel to mostly dry off, a few drops of water clinging to his skin as he stooped down and gathered his discarded clothes. Stepping into his pants, he looked out and saw her dresser sitting perfectly in line with the bathroom door.
An idea formed in his mind.
Blame post-nut clarity…
Once he was satisfied with his little idea and his execution of it, he tugged his shirt back on.
The scent of vanilla mixing with his cologne lingering on his shirt made his blood hum.
A soft smile graced his lips, content in his evening activities.
Once he was gone, he’d send her the photo of himself as a little tease.
But he had one more thing to do.
Retrieving a pen from her nightstand and a discarded receipt, Mikko scribbled a note out for her to find.
It was stupid and silly, but nonchalant wasn’t really his thing.
Feeling tired but refreshed, Mikko tried to remember the last time he’d felt this free.
While his motorcycle got him close, it rarely managed to fill the ever growing void in his gut.
A laugh threatened to burst out of him at the thought of what he’d done.
It’d been a while she he’d done something this reckless.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and suddenly he remembered Levi never responded to him. Mikko’s eyes scanned over the message that had come through.
But it wasn’t Levi.
Or Anika.
Mikko’s heart sank as the words seared into his head.
Cristiano: Have you heard from Dimitri? I can’t seem to get a hold of him
Images of Ivan’s brutalized body and altered organs haunted Mikko. If this led to another murder, he was going to be furious. It seemed like he couldn’t avoid Anika’s file for much longer.
Typing a reply, Mikko’s lighthearted mood fading, he promised to do some investigating as soon as he got home.
“See, emotions are a detriment to our business.” Again, his father’s lifetime of scoldings pestered him, especially since he disobeyed one of the most important rules.
And look where it got him—a missing man and no leads.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been stroking your pitiful cock to her face, you could finally be useful,” his father’s voice echoed in his head again. The dead always had so much to say.
Ridden with guilt and smelling like Anika, he slipped out of her house undetected.