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Bending down, I kiss her tear-soaked cheeks briefly.
Her lips come next, but that isn’t brief.
22
GALINA
No man should be able to wipe away every drop of sorrow with a kiss, but Arsen manages it without effort. It’s only our third kiss, but he kisses me like we’re familiar lovers, finding the perfect way to angle our mouths and pressing his tongue on mine just how I like it.
“Arsen,” I whisper.
“Do you want me to stop?” He kisses my shoulder, moving the strap of my dress down my arm until it drapes on my elbow. His mouth explores the new patch of untouched skin. “Say the word, ptichka. I’ll do as you ask.”
His hands glide my other strap down. There’s nothing holding my dress up but my chest as it rises and falls with my every quickening breath. Just tell him you don’t want this. My hands circle his strong neck as the words die in my throat. One word and he’ll end it. One little word and this stops. My nails scrape down his deltoids, feeling every groove.
Arsen’s breath scalds my cheek. He’s waiting, the moment hanging in the air like a drop of dew on a leaf.
I’m standing on a cliff, and this is my last opportunity before I fall. But the time to say stop is long gone.
Instead of doing the logical thing, I reach up, grip his jaw, and bring our mouths together in a fiery kiss, choosing to jump off the cliff into him.
My quiet permission sends Arsen into a frenzy. Thick fingers squeeze my hips as he lifts and spins me until I’m sitting on his desk. Notebooks fly to the floor. A lamp topples loudly, but he ignores it all.
I’m the only thing he cares about.
“Galina,” he breathes. “I’ve wanted this for longer than you know.”
I shake my head lightly. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
He smiles in amusement, and my heart melts at the sight. In one smooth motion, he hikes my dress up over my thighs, exposing my white lace panties. The front is transparent, already soaked from my wetness.
“Neither are you,” he whispers, his voice straining with desire.
I blush, but I still grab the front of his shirt, yanking him against me until the heat rolling off his powerful body envelops me. Arsen growls down my throat. The vibration from the kiss shakes me to my bones, until I swear my whole body is trembling like a guitar string that has been plucked.
I fumble for his belt, but his weight traps my hands between us.
“Please,” I urge him. “I want this.”
His fingers twist in my hair, creating tension through my scalp that flares with a new wave of desire. “I’m in charge, understand?”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“You did when you didn’t walk out of this room.” Arsen pulls at my hair until my bun comes undone. My soft brown curls tickle my shoulders, sending goose bumps dotting across my exposed skin. Suddenly I’m aware of just how sensitive my skin has become. Each sigh of desire, each drop of sweat, and each lingering stroke of his hands leaves me shivering and wanting more. I’m attuned and keyed up for Arsen, waiting for what he’ll do next.
He presses on me until I get the hint. Leaning backward, I splay out on his desk. He stands over me, planted between my thighs with his hands resting on my hips. His stare undresses me long while his fingers remain still. He gazes at me like I’m a treasure map that will lead him to gold.
I haven’t felt this wanted in a long time. He’s looking at me like he can see me. The part of me that I’ve locked away from the world. It makes me feel like I am valuable.
It’s silly, but it’s exactly what I want right now.
“Tak krasivaya,” he whispers again. His fingertip runs over my dress, between my breasts, down to my navel. I instinctively arch into his touch with a low moan, pressing my soaked panties into his palm and drawing an appreciative hiss from his throat. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Galina.”
“Nor you me …” I start to sit up, but he nudges me back down.
“Stay,” he says firmly. “And enjoy.”
He scoops his shirt over his head, revealing his naked torso to me for the first time. It takes my breath away. I’ve tried to picture what he looks like under his perfectly fitting clothes, and although I knew he’d be a living Adonis, I didn’t expect so many tattoos. I spy spikes painted on his shoulders. When he bends lower, I see that they’re eight-pointed stars. His bare forearms are black with images of knives.
