Chapter 23
2206words
I clap my palm over my lips and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting desperately to hold in my pleasure. But another flick of his tongue across my pussy, and I can't help but let out a trembling moan.
Coiled like a spring, my inner walls flex to warn me that my orgasm is coming. My forehead is soaked with perspiration, and my thighs are slick from arousal. The room is like a sauna, and it takes me a second to realize that the heat is coming from inside of me.
Asher has set me on fucking fire with his mouth, and every time he laps at my sensitive slit, the flames grow just a little bit bigger.
A little bit more out of control.
Another swipe of his tongue, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. Thick fingers dance their way up my thigh, and his thumbs peel my lips apart so he can slip his tongue deep inside. Spots of color explode across my vision. My ears start ringing, drowning out the music. I become keenly aware of the thin material of my soaked dress, but I don't care.
Not anymore.
Not when he's kneeling before me like this.
Blood pounds at my ears, the noise growing louder by the second.
Astana leaps, twirling at top speed as the performance hits its climax.
And mine arrives simultaneously.
'Asher!" I sob into my hand, arching my spin, driving my hips into his face as I come hard. Tingles become pulsing bursts of electricity as they rush through my body, leaving me breathless. One of my black heels slips off my foot, clattering as if it's a million miles away on the floor, and my toes curl violently to the pleasure rippling across my skin. As I rise, Asher's hand slips under me to massage my ass, holding me against his mouth as he eagerly slurps up every last drop of my juices, like a man in the desert hunting for water. I'm still trembling when he throws my dress aside to come up for air.
The lights turn on just as I straighten my dress over my ruined panties. Asher stares down at me, his face shining with the remnants of my orgasm. As I watch, he licks his thumb, then his fingers, making it clear how he loves the taste of me. The lust in his eyes reignites the flames in my core. There's an obvious bulge in his pants and a very noticeable wet spot. I blush upon seeing it.
Eating me out turned him on.
He turns toward the stage, his voice flat as paper. 'Stand up and clap, Camila. Show your appreciation."
On one bare foot and one heel, I rise to lean on the balcony. My knees tremble as they struggle to keep me upright. My pussy is twitching from aftershocks. The dancers below smile, bowing deeply while Asher and I clap as hard as we can. I cheer for them …
I do as I'm told. I show my appreciation as he commands.
But I'm not clapping just for them.
I'm celebrating something the only two people in the audience know about.
We're descending the stairs into the lobby when I see her. Astana is tall and lean. A black hoodie is draped over her leotard while her white tutu fans beneath. She's surrounded by the other dancers, all of them chatting with smiles as they bask in the aftermath of a completed show. I pull up short next to Asher.
'Oh my God, she's right there," I whisper.
'Well, what are you waiting for?" he says. 'Go say hello."
'No, I couldn't. She probably doesn't want fans rushing her after a show."
Laughing in his throat, he walks down the last of the steps, waving one arm in the air. 'Ms. Bukharova! Idi suda."
'Asher Volkov." She smiles benevolently at him. 'Did you enjoy the show? It's rare that someone books out the whole theater for themselves." She says it coyly, making me wonder if she's actually annoyed that he did this.
Does she prefer dancing for a packed crowd?
Oh God! Did she see us?
My face heats up in shame as I consider that. No, it was too dark, and she was focused on performing. The idea of my hero knowing I was getting eaten out while she danced is humiliating.
'Camila," Asher says, motioning at me. 'Come meet Astana Maksimovna."
'Bozhe moi, just Astana is fine. No need for patronymics or formality with me today." She holds her hand out to me. It's pale and smooth, her nails dotted in an expensive French manicure.
'Camila Marakov Rubinova." I shake her hand with my own trembling one as I use my full name, patronymic included. 'I'm a huge fan of yours. I can't believe I'm meeting you right now; this is a dream come true."
She tilts her head, her eyes considering me curiously. 'I'm flattered, Camila Marakov, but please don't be overwhelmed. Did you like the show?"
'Of course!" I gush. 'It was stunning! The way you move … I can't imagine doing the things you do."
'If you want, I can teach you."
My face falls. 'Excuse me? Oh, no, that's too kind. I could never afford lessons."
Astana blinks a few times before looking at Asher. 'Have you told her nothing, Asher Volkov?"
'Know what?" I ask, eyeing the pair.
'Asher Volkov has hired me to teach at your dance studio. So unless there's a different Camila Marakov that I don't know about …" Her angled grin says she's playing with me. But I'm too busy trying to remember how to breathe.
She's ... going to be teaching ... at my studio?
Someone in the crowd calls out Astana's name. She waves at them, then bows her head to us as she backs away. 'I'm glad you enjoyed the show. We'll talk soon. Have a good night!"
Like I'm moving through molasses, I turn to gaze up at Asher in disbelief.
'You set this up?"
He nods.
'That's … I don't know what to say."
'I believe most people would say ‘thank you' for this," he chuckles.
Wordlessly, I embrace him with all the strength I can muster. I can barely wrap my arms around his wide torso, but I try my best. My cheek lies on his jacket while the rest of me leans into him so that not a single part of my body isn't touching his.
'Thank you," I whisper earnestly. 'You didn't have to do this."
'I did it for you." He's quiet for a few heartbeats. Then he hugs me back. 'Come on, let's go home."
Home. The word wakes me up. His home isn't my home. The reminder cools some of my joy, so I try to squash the grim thoughts down into my heels. Asher has been incredibly generous to me.
I don't want a hint of a negative thought to make itself known.
Outside, the valet hands Asher his keys. We settle in the Escalade, driving down the street in the direction of quieter roads. His attention is on what's in front of him. I glance at his face multiple times, trying to decide what to say. How can I explain how much this evening meant to me? What words can convey the swelling in my heart?
Words are useless. Think about it ... You never cared what he said. Your feelings for him didn't start to change until his actions did.
I have to show my gratitude in the right way.
'Camila?" he asks, startled by my hand slipping onto his right thigh.
'Shh. Just focus on driving. We don't want to crash."
He narrows his eyes at me, then stares out the window. Shifting around, I unbuckle myself; I need to be free to execute my plan. Stretching myself across the middle console, my elbows prop me over his lap. Gently I trace the rivets on his pants before flicking his belt open.
Asher makes a throaty noise above me. Encouraged, I grind his zipper down, the metal teeth parting until the bulge of his cock can be seen in his boxers. I caught a glimpse of it earlier, but being this close is sending butterflies through my blood.
I trace my fingertip over his shaft lightly, drawing an appreciative but quiet hiss from his lips. His hips shift upward. Incited by his response, I pull his boxers down. His cock is large enough that the tip rests on his stomach. I begin salivating; my pussy is wet all over again.
'Go on," he whispers thickly.
Gazing upward, I make sure his eyes are still on the road. I don't want to crash and be found like this. Though … what a way to go. Fisting the middle of his shaft, I give it a squeeze.
'Fuck!" he hisses.
'Sorry, did that hurt?"
'No," he replies. 'Do it again, Camila."
The rush of arousal makes my grip tighten on him. Rocking my hips helplessly at the waves of pleasure, I press a kiss to his cock, savoring the warmth and salt. My tongue follows the path of the thick veins running along his skin.
Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I pull him inside.
He's big, and I'm gagging before I'm halfway to his root. 'Jeez," I breathe when I withdraw. 'You're huge."
His moan is pure eroticism. His thighs flex as he arches to meet me. Licking my palm until it's good and slick, I wrap it around his base. I can't deep throat, but I have my ways. Pumping up and down, I suckle his tip as his scent fills my nose, mixing with the delicious salty taste of his precum. My lips meet the pistoning of my hand. The car is full of filthy, sloppy noises. The only thing louder is Asher's breathing.
'Camila, fuck, I'm close." The car speeds up; I roll one way, then brace myself to stay in his lap. He corrects his pressure on the gas pedal, but I have to end this before he gets a speeding ticket. Jerking his cock harder, I move my tongue from side to side under the dimple of his cock head. His whole shaft swells, and my jaw aches from struggling to hold him.
A loud, animal-like hiss escapes his pressed teeth. The veins in my grip pulsate, warning me just before spurts of hot, thick semen fill my mouth. He doesn't have to tell me to swallow. I'm eager for this reward as I close my lips around the tip and gulp him down.
With a wet pop, I pull him from my lips. Wiping my mouth with the back of my wrist, I give him a coy look burning with passion. I came earlier, but I want to come again. Asher shoots me several fast glances.
'That was one hell of a thank you," he says.
'I'm a fan of payback."
'So I see," he whispers. His chuckle is mired with disbelief. The car smells of our mutual lust. His cock is getting hard again.
We can keep going. We both want to.
His phone buzzes. Asher fumbles for his pants, redoing everything up to hide the evidence of our actions. He presses a button on the dashboard. 'What's going on, Nikolai?"
'Are you alone?"
Asher gives me a side-eye. 'No."
'Call me back when you are, pakhan."
The call ends and Asher goes quiet, like he's gathering his thoughts. I expect him to speak, but he remains this way when we reach the gates protecting his house. Parking the car, he cuts the engine. Only then does he face me.
'I'm sorry, it's work."
'I understand."
I don't, not really. This war that's going on is still invisible to me. Opening my door, I slip out. Standing in the cool air, I adjust my dress, making sure I'm presentable before I go inside.
'Today was great, Asher. I had a lot of fun."
'I did as well." His eyes warm with his smile. 'Good night, Camila."
He's going to stay in the car. He's waiting for me to leave to make the call to Nikolai. I watch him, noting the serious expression that's replaced the joy we shared recently. He's all business … back to being the man who faced off with me at Topher's while threatening everything I held dear.
Asher has two sides. I wish I could make the one that took me to the ballet permanent. When Yannick is defeated … It could be possible. That's what keeps my head high while I stroll past the guards posted at the front door. I don't wilt under their glares; I don't shy from how they play with their weapons.
They're part of the Bratva. They live on Asher's shadowy side.
Someday, he won't need them.
I look forward to that.
