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I shrugged. “You knew that already.”
His thumb stroked along the curve of my cheek. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
“You’re the world’s boogeyman, but not mine.”
His nostrils flared as he leaned up to connect our mouths, and before I knew it, he was flipping us over so I was lying on my back on the sofa. It was like before, yet not. If anything, it was night and day.
When his hips slipped between my legs, I grasped a hold of him with my thighs, moaning when he bound us together, sliding into me with an ease that came as a shock.
I didn’t think I should have been this wet, but hell, my body was as confused as my mind. Something that was compounded by his lack of movement as he stayed there, his cock burrowed away in my warmth as he hovered above me, his mouth brushing mine just, our noses kissing barely.
That seemed to go on for a lifetime. For hours and hours, months and years until I broke.
I caved in and whispered, “Eoghan?”
My hands moved over his head, nails scraping through his hair.
“Inessa?”
“Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“That’s all that matters.” I tightened my thighs around him. “We’re in this together.”
“For better or worse?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re getting a raw deal.”
“I don’t think so. At least, I don’t usually.” My heels dug into his butt. “Baby, please,” I panted. “Move.”
He ignored me—of course, he did—and instead, he bridged our hands together and rested them over my head. “I have this core deep inside me, Inessa. It’s ice cold. It never used to get warm until you. You’re dangerous for me.”
“You’re dangerously in love with me,” I countered as a wicked smile curved my lips.
“You should be going into PR, not interior design,” he rumbled.
As I registered how surreal this conversation was, a conversation that seemed to be occurring despite the fact his cock was being soaked by my pussy, I rasped, “Maybe I’ll do that after.”
“Maybe you will,” he agreed, confirming what I already knew—that he’d never hold me back—just as he urged our mouths into colliding.
His hips slowly started to rock, but each time, he barely moved inside me. I felt the vibration as I moaned into his mouth, which made him speed up.
Not much, not enough.
I groaned as he explored me, tasting me, savoring me, and I clenched his fingers hard to encourage him to quicken even more.
That was when he obeyed my silent demand.
From mega slow to super fast, I felt the change of pace like he’d taken me from zero to sixty in his Aston Martin.
He fucked me, all the while he stayed bound to me through our kiss and hands. The way my pelvis was arched, every thrust of his dick had him grinding into my mons, and I cried out when his fucking had me tearing my lips from his and screaming out my release just as he growled and poured his seed into me.
It was different than usual. Instead of feeling like I was soaring, it felt as if it tied me to him. As if he flew and I grounded him. But different wasn’t bad. Different was just new.
I guessed that made sense.
Eoghan might be my hero, but every hero needed a heroine too, no?
Carefully, I nipped at his mouth, gently kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip as his hips twitched and his cock spasmed inside me while I breathed in Russian, “Ty moyo schást'ye.”
I half-expected him to ask me what that meant, but my husband was ever full of surprises as he pressed a kiss to my temple, and against my skin murmured, “You’re my happiness too.”
And as much as this morning had rattled me, that soothed the wounds he’d given me, eased the aches.
Just like I knew he always would.
