Page 9 of Sinful Wrath
He parksas close to the sand as possible.
“You wanted to see the beach?” he asks, killing the engine.
“Not exactly…” I slip off my heels.
It’s almost midnight, and the beach is completely deserted, which is perfect for what I have planned.
“Then why are we here.”
“I thought we could go for a little late night swim.”
“Are you kidding me? Absolutely not.”
“I told you, Mikhail Koslov. I never joke about having fun.” I open my door and sliding out of the car.
By the time Mikhail has caught up to me, I’m already halfway down the beach.
It’s late February, which means the air is freezing, but the alcohol is helping me keep warm.
I squeal at the feeling of the sand between my toes and the cold air whipping my hair out behind me as I run.
“Lucia!” Mikhail yells, but I’m not listening.
I’m havingfun.
As I reach the water’s edge, I stop and begin to shimmy out of my dress.
It’s skin tight, and I struggle to pull it down over my boobs but eventually, it falls to the ground, leaving me in nothing but a pair of black, lace panties.
Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Mikhail frozen a few meters away, his eyes fixed on my backside.
I guess I could give him a show…
Dipping my fingers into the waistband, I carefully pull the delicate lace over my ass, bending over just enough to give him a perfect view, before letting them fall around my ankles.
“Come on!” I call behind me as I grab hold of mybreasts and run into the water, hissing through my teeth at how cold it is.
My skin instantly pimples, my nipples hardening beneath my palms, but not entirely from the cold.
Mikhail’s eyes burn my skin, and I’m curious to know if he’ll let his guard down enough to join me in the water.
Turning around, I drop my hands to my sides to show off my breasts.
Despite my petite frame, I was blessed with curves I know drive men wild. Men that include Mikhail Koslov, it seems.
From the way his eyes darken as they linger on my breasts, I know I’ll have him in the palm of my hands soon enough.
“Well? Are you going to join me?” I wiggle just enough to make my breasts bounce.
That seems to snap Mikhail out of the lust-induced trance I’ve put him in as he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt.
I can’t tear my eyes away as he shrugs out of the black material and begins to undo his belt.
My gaze roams over his broad chest, admiring the intricate tattoos that cover most of his skin as well as the rippling muscles that disappear down into the waistband of his pants.
By the time he’s standing in just his boxers, I’m suitably aroused, which was not part of my plan. But then again, who am I to ever stick to a plan?
I thrive on spontaneity.