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Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)(38)

Author:Neva Altaj

“My sister always pestered me to braid her hair when our mother wasn’t around,” he says without meeting my eyes, and there is so much pain in that one sentence, it pierces me right through my heart.

“Oksana was deaf from birth. She was four years older than me, so I learned sign language before I learned to read.”

It’s not just the fact that he’s using the past tense. I can feel it in the tone of his voice… Something bad happened to his sister. Mikhail raises his head, then and our gazes collide in the mirror. There is such a haunted look in his eye, that I know for certain that whatever happened is much worse than I can imagine.

I take the hair tie from the cupboard, offer it to Mikhail, and wait for him to secure the braid.

“Not my best work, I’m afraid.” He sighs. “You might want to do it again.”

“It’s perfect,” I sign into the mirror.

Mikhail places his hands on my hips, turns me around, and raises his hand to run a finger down the side of my face. “I’m sorry.”

I sigh, pull on his arm until he bends, and I place a kiss on his lips.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Not yet. You will need to work much more for that.”

He raises his left eyebrow, and his lips widen slightly. “What did you have in mind? Some kind of manual labor?”

“Yes.” I smile and start unbuttoning his shirt.

I feel his hands on my stomach, going up and pulling on my shirt. “I better start then.”

He pulls the shirt over my head, removes my panties, and turns me to face the mirror, with my bare back pressed to his chest. I stare at our reflections—me completely naked, and him standing behind me in his black shirt and dress pants. He places a kiss on my neck while his hands come to my waist and slowly start sliding down, over my hip bones and then lower.

“I want you to watch”—his right hand slides even lower, between my legs—“how beautiful you are when you come.”

His palm glides against my pussy as he bites my shoulder at the same time, making me shudder from the combined sensation. One finger enters my core, and I grab onto his forearm, pressing myself onto his hand. There is something improper in seeing myself like this, with him touching me so intimately while he’s still fully clothed.

His other hand slides down, his finger circling my clit, then presses the spot at the top of my pussy. A silent moan escapes my lips and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

“Eyes on the mirror, Bianca. Or I stop.”

I open my eyes instantly.

“Good girl.”

I can’t remove my eyes from the scene in the mirror. Mikhail’s huge body pressed up against mine, his hands between my legs, his lips trailing a line of kisses on my shoulder. Another finger enters me as he starts teasing my clit with his other hand, changing the tempo from slow to fast, then slow again, making my body tremble harder.

“Come for me, my little lamb,” he whispers in my ear and curls his fingers inside me while pressing onto my clit, and I explode.

The tremors rocking my body are so strong that I can’t hold myself upright, so I grasp his forearm with both of my hands and watch Mikhail in the mirror. Composed. Not a hair out of place. Looking straight into my eyes. Wicked, wicked man. The silent types are always the most dangerous.

Chapter 12

She has been stealing my clothes. By my current calculation, she has taken at least four Tshirts, my favorite hoodie, and one dress shirt, so far. And it looks like she has decided she needs another hoodie for her collection.

“Will this one do?” I ask.

“Yes. Perfect.” Bianca takes the black sweatshirt I’m holding, puts it on, and starts rolling up the sleeves.

I know she got the rest of her stuff. Denis went to her father’s place two days ago and brought back the boxes her sister packed.

“Any chance I’ll get that one back?” I say and caress her face with the back of my hand.

She looks up at me, smirks, and shakes her head. My little thief. I smile, take her chin to tilt her head, and kiss her.

“Sisi, Sisi, they are kissing again!” Lena shouts from somewhere behind me. “Roby asked to kiss me today and I said okay. He kissed me on the cheek. I’ll tell him to kiss me on my mouth tomorrow.”

My head snaps up. I turn on my heel, stride toward the kitchen where Lena is watching Sisi prepare lunch, and crouch in front of my daughter.

“No kissing boys, Lena. You are too young for that.”

“I am not. I am going to marry Roby,” she says, all serious, and Sisi bursts out laughing.

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