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My body warmed and trembled, and he hadn’t even kissed me yet.
Vik gently but firmly grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and I allowed myself to be moved, and then he closed the distance between us, letting his mouth settle over mine.
My heart cried out in joy of meeting its mate.
The kiss was soft and sweet and had my hands sliding up the wall of his chest to snake around his neck. He tilted his head and deepened the connection, the warmth of his mouth consuming me. Using his shoulders as leverage, I pulled myself impossibly close and moaned lightly into his mouth, delighting in the way he surrounded me completely, locking me in, fastening me in place.
Vik’s arms wound around my back, holding firmly as he pressed his hips deeper into mine. Slowly, he moved against me, and the restlessness inside me grew. The feel of his hard length grinding at me had my brows bunching. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me, and the moment I did, he took the opportunity to run his tongue lightly against mine and thrust harder.
And I was lost to him. Forever and always.
My tee shifted as my hips began to move, his hard cock grazing my bare hip.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough. I didn’t know what I needed, only that Vik was the only person who could provide it.
I panted out, “I need to feel you,” struggling to lift the hem of my tee. Once I lifted it high enough, Vik reached out, and with a single tug of my bra, my breasts were freed.
The moment our bodies met, skin on skin, the intensity of the connection rose tenfold.
Vik groaned, then pulled back a second to growl out, “More.”
With a firm yank, my yoga pants were bunched around my knees. He put his hand flat against my stomach, his fingertips dipping into the elastic of my plain black panties. Slipping under the flimsy material, inside to touch my blazing flesh, the moment I felt him there, my lids fluttered closed.
When next I focused, I found his darkened, hooded gaze on me. He gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves, and my face contorted. He grinned knowingly.
This man knew what he was doing. He spent years studying every inch of my body. Finding my every erogenous zone. Discovering every secret, some of which I hadn’t known myself.
He was a master musician, and I was his instrument.
I panted softly as he kept up his attentions, and once that feeling grew, I tried to spread my legs, to feel him closer, deeper, but my pants left no give.
Vik simply said, “Easy, baby.”
It was easy, so easy to give in to his gentle orders and promising caress. That buzzing, restless sensation washed over me. Lips parted, my brow lowered as my hips moved to meet his touch, intensifying the stir.
His head dipped, and he kissed me roughly before he pulled back and uttered, “I’ve got you.”
My pussy tightened.
“Oh God. I need this,” I whispered.
Then it began to pulse.
I’m sorry.
I’m miserable without you.
Give me your stubborn, vicious heart.
I need you. Just you.
My raw, hidden emotions had the blissful sensations deepening.
Vik looked after me, circling my clit, applying the slightest amount of pressure before saying tenderly, “I know you do, kiska. I need it too.”
And when it hit, it hit.
My body went rigid, my face twisted, and my mouth rounded as my orgasm landed like a blow to the torso. My breathing stuttered. I whimpered and squirmed, rocking against the pads of his fingers, and when it got to be too much, Vik circled my back and cupped my mound, allowing me to ride out the overwhelming bliss in my own time.
I had the strangest feeling I would regret it, like I had last time. But as the pleasure faded, all I was left feeling was a light, flowing exhilaration.
Sated, my sleepy gaze went to the man with the golden touch, and when I found him searching my face, his jaw tight, as if he also feared my regret, my love for him overshadowed all else.
Of all the things I could accuse him of, Viktor Nikulin gave of himself what he had to give. No more, no less. And I was one of the lucky few who he offered the majority to.
And, in that moment, it seemed cruel to demand more than that.
He kept his heart guarded, wrapped in barbed wire, and perhaps that was why he couldn’t offer it. So, I would offer him mine in the hopes that my love would help heal him.
He leaned in and touched his lips to my slack mouth, letting it linger. Sliding my hands over his collarbone, down his pecs, farther still past his firm but twitching stomach, I peered down at his angry erection before looking back up. Our eyes met, and when I took the length of him into my hand, he let out a harsh, shaking breath as his body turned lax.
