What's Left Of Me (The Firebird Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

else.” Alex stood up and offered his hand. He ushered her to the bedroom, where he helped her strip down to her bra and panties, then tucked her into bed. He kissed her temple. “Rest.”
    She relaxed into the pillows and, in a few more moments, into blessed sleep.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Alex
     
    Alex pounded his fist on the desk, his fingernails biting into the flesh of his palm. He tamped down the urge to break everything in the room.
     
    One million or I release the sex video we made. Remember that? People see it, and they’ll believe that woman’s rape story.
     
    “ Bog ,” he moaned. A night he did not remember clearly, but a spectacular lack of judgment either way. An excuse to try some of the kinky shit to which most of his partners were not amenable. A little souvenir of those wild hours, masturbatory fuel for the rare occasions he was without a woman. He’d found out he had been traded that day. Stephanie had not yet reappeared in his life, a life that had not yet mattered again.
    He almost fired back, Go ahead. See what I care. But this was exactly the sort of thing he must scour from existence. God forbid the media or his accuser’s lawyers get their hands on it. He could say goodbye to coaching anywhere ever again.
     
    We need to talk about this. Don’t do anything until then. Call me.
     
    Alex crept into the master suite, shed his clothes, then climbed into bed and curled himself around Stephanie. He glanced at the baby monitor. So far so good. His dick was cooperating too, but for it to continue doing so, he must cleanse everything else from his mind.
    He slipped an arm around her and massaged one pale, satin mound. She moaned and pushed back against him, her beautiful ass hardening him more. Red streaks from his fingernails marred the skin between her shoulder blades. He smiled, thinking of the bites and furrows she left on him whenever they had sex. Beneath the sweet California-girl exterior was a naughty devushka indeed, asserting the sexuality once stolen and manipulated.
    Alex wet his palm and ran it up and down his cock before positioning the head between her buttocks. “Can I?” he whispered and nipped her earlobe.
    She didn’t open her eyes, but a shrewd smile lit her face. “Can you what?”
    He chuckled. “Can I fuck this gorgeous ass of yours?”
    “I don’t know, can you?”
    “You know it turns me on when you get pedantic.”
    Stephanie shook with laughter.
    Alex, grinning, worked the head of his cock into her. He loved anal, and it had nothing to do with sublimated Gulag culture or watching too much porn, or wanting to wield the power differential over women. He had first experimented with it because, being Russian, he was curious by nature. An eighteen-year-old rising star did not decline the sex offered to him every night in whatever form it took. After that, it was a matter of simple enjoyment. No one told Western women they needed to be “saved” from such deviant activities the way Russian doctors and psychiatrists did Slavic women. It became that much more exciting when one’s partner wasn’t clenching with horror. “Tell me if it hurts. I won’t do it hard. I just…” Alex gently rocked his hips. “I want to come inside you.” He growled and bit down on her shoulder. “You feel so incredible.”
    “So do you.”
    Alex moved her leg up, opening her more, then reached beneath her thigh and divided her swollen lips with his finger. The pearl they hid was slick and tumid, eager to be claimed. He inched into her with slow, short thrusts and strummed her clit.
    “Oh…” A wild quaver shuddered through her. “Oh God…Alex…”
    “ Haaarder ,” he cawed, and she erupted into a giggling fit. He pulled out long enough to toss her onto her back and kneel between her folded legs, which she gathered closer to her chest, offering him her succulent ass. But his true objective was to taste her mouth, and so when he had buried himself