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The ragged hunger in his tone sends warmth pooling between my legs, so I rub my thighs together to help tend the ache. But it doesn’t help. No, it only makes me desperate to be touched. If this plan backfires and I’m left hot to trot…without any actual trotting…I’m in for a world of hurt. “Can you give me a brief outline of the lesson plan now?”

Sasha grips the shelves above my head, and they creak in protest. His face moves within an inch of mine, those gray eyes deepening to black. “You tempt me to madness on my final day in perdition, Anya?”

“It didn’t have to be this way.” I shrug off my jean jacket and let it drop to the ground, arching my back to draw his attention to my breasts. “All those times in your bed, late at night. No one would — ”

“Stop this,” he grinds out, pressing closer.

“No one would have known if you’d make me yours.”

“Everyone would have known within nine months, little angel. Once I gave in and fucked you, you’d have been taking my cum morning, noon and night.” Twin flames blaze to life in his eyes, evidence of the danger lurking inside this man who has cared for me for so long. “And make no mistake. You are already mine.”

Nine months. Nine. He means he would have gotten me pregnant. What about protection? We haven’t even kissed and he’s already talking about me having his children? There is so much that remains a mystery. Except for the fact that I want him. And I know in the deepest part of my heart that Sasha would never, ever do something that wasn’t in my best interest. So I throw caution to the wind and incite his lust more. I want him to give me every ounce of it. “No. I’m not yours yet.” My hands trace the outline of his chest and abdomen muscles as they heave into my palms. “Why don’t you do something to change that?”

His voice is full of dark promise when he says, “Very well, angel.”

Those capable hands drop from the shelves, hanging at his sides as our foreheads meet. He rolls them together while his hot breath forms steam on my lips. How long is he going to keep his mouth a fraction of an inch from mine? Oh God. Every second he waits, bolts turn tight below my belly button, moisture collects inside my panties. Finally, his thumbs brush my hips and he grates a string of Russian words. His forehead grinds against mine. And just when I think I’m going to be left in suspense forever, Sasha slides his tongue into my mouth.

I make the most embarrassing sound and almost hit the floor, like the total rookie that I am. Tongue right off the bat? Isn’t there supposed to be some lip stuff to lead into the main event? Oh…my God. I don’t care. I just want more. And Sasha gives it to me. He catches me by the elbows and drags me back upright, wedging me between his made – of – stone body and the bookshelf, flicking his tongue against mine until I join him, mating our mouths in a rhythm that echoes in my pulse.

Who is this man? I thought I knew everything about him, right down to his preferred vodka and cologne of choice. I know which of my father’s associates make him stick closer to me when they’re around, his lack of a middle name, that he secretly enjoys watching Ellen. Did I know he could kiss like this? Uh, no.

His lips are only beginning to slant over mine, his tongue fully invading my mouth with full, sweeping licks, when his hands roam down my backside. This time, they don’t stop with a squeeze of my right cheek, though. No, his rough palms slide inside my panties and grasp both sides of my bottom firmly. Possessively. With a tortured, male sound, the kiss deepens…and my feet leave the ground. My legs move automatically to surround his hips as I’m dragged slowly — so slowly — up the length of his hardness. That private, untouched part of me rides from the root of Sasha’s manhood to the very top, where he keeps me.

“Some days I don’t know if I’ll survive without these thighs around me. Welcoming me,” he grates. “You jumped into my arms once…long ago. You could barely get your legs around me then, but you tried. You tried so hard. It was almost my undoing, Anya, standing there while you struggled to open them wide enough to fit my body.”

Flashes of memory bombard from all sides. Sasha’s curses, his flexing jaw. “I remember. You left. You…I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.”

“Nothing, angel. You’re never anything but too fucking right. I think even your father knew I went home to stroke my cock that afternoon.” His hands knead my backside with intention, and every muscle below my waist constricts, ripping a whimper from my throat. “This vow I made has almost been broken many times. I’d sell my soul to break it right now and slide my dick inside your tight cunt.”

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