Kirill ignored me with particular dedication. At first it irritated me, but later it turned into an amusing game. I clung to him—he fled. As someone locked inside all day, I can say it entertained me greatly.
When I woke up early in the morning, I saw that Kirill was still asleep. He lay at a decent distance, so I decided to move closer. I draped one leg over him, then an arm, and pretended to keep sleeping. But he definitely woke up. His steel-hard torso tensed, and his leg twitched nervously. He rolled onto his side, casually shaking me off and turning his back to me. My hand landed on him again—this time I made sure it was very close to his manhood. He jerked as if someone had dropped ice down his collar. The werewolf sprang out of bed instantly and turned toward me. I did what I was s
