My eyes snap open and I stare at Sergei. He still has his hand between my legs. As I look into his eyes, he presses onto my frustrated p***y again, and a small moan leaves my lips.
“There.” He smiles and lightly bites my lower lip. “Consider the dress reimbursed in full.”
His hands vanish from my body, and he’s gone the next moment, leaving me in the middle of the room, standing on an assortment of genuine leather-bound Dostoyevsky hardcovers, with my panties completely drenched.
* * *
The following morning, I find Felix fumbling with an electrical socket above the stove. He looks me over, then resumes what he’s been doing.
“Is Sergei out?” I ask and sit at the dining table.
I haven’t left the room since yesterday evening, trying to avoid Sergei until I manage to process the meaning
