her. My conscience was a goddamn cockblock. I wanted Mila so bad, the desire grabbed ahold of me, twisted beneath my skin, and demanded I take her. At this point, I didn’t think I could allow her to go even if she changed her mind. And the loss of control suddenly made me hate her a little bit. All thoughts stalled when Mila pushed up from the bed with a hand and ran the other down my chest. The simple touch burned like a line of fire, sending all the blood in my body south. We both watched her hand trail down my abs before it stopped at my briefs, where she traced the waistband with a finger. Each back and forth motion throbbed in my groin. When her hazy gaze lifted to mine, a ripple of darkness slithered through me. The lust in her stare was all mine. Until Saturday at least. The idea she would give those eyes to someone else afterward made me fist a hand in her hair to keep her stare on mine. Fuck karma. I needed to get this shit out of my system right now. “I want...” She flushed and, unable to finish the sentence, her fingers tugged my waistband down an inch, showing me what she wanted but couldn’t say. Her hand grazed the head of my cock. The smallest brush turned my blood to liquid fire, drumming hot and heavy inside of me. But I needed to hear her say the words. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” “English,” she said softly. Jesus Christ. For the fifth time with this girl, I didn’t realize I’d spoken in Russian. Frustration lit up my back. “Be more specific.” My annoyance faded when her hand slipped beneath my briefs and over the length of my dick. I hissed through my teeth. Heat curled at the base of my spine, sending a shudder outward. Nothing was practiced about her touch—in fact, it felt a little unsure. I didn’t know if it was because I’d waited so long to get to this point with her or because her inexperience was a novelty, but, disturbingly enough, her hand down my briefs made me harder than I’d ever been in my life. “T want this,” she breathed, wrapping her fingers around my cock before slowly stroking it from the base to the head. A low groan rose up my throat. I needed to tighten her grip, but knowing I couldn’t let her push me too far yet, I covered her hand with mine to still the movement. “There aren’t going to be any rose petals or lit candles,” I told her. She pursed her lips. “Not even one—”