⊶⊷⊶⊷
“Your back, it aches, da?” Ilya gestured at her slumped shoulders, taking in the way she shifted and squirmed. At her wary look, he smiled wide, full of teeth and dangerous sincerity as he came around the counter.
“What are you doing?” Panic laced her voice as he took up the space behind her, warm and imposing as his shadow fell over her. Dwarfed under his size, she jostled and would have vaulted off the stool if his hands hadn’t held her to the chair.
“Calm, kroshka. It is only you and me. I will not tell.”
Before Quinn could fill her lungs with enough air to scream, his hands slipped down over the curve of her shoulders and dug into the knotted muscles of her lower back. Fingers kneading the snarled aches, he gave another delighted rumble when Quinn slumped.
Cheek meeting cool stone, Quinn held back the gratified moan that battered against the back of her teeth. Memories flooded her eyes, trickled over her lashes and stained her cheeks as she allowed the male to touch her. The deep, pinching pain was manipulated into something tolerable with each hard caress.
