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Upstairsinhisroom, there was no talk of the strange look in Demitri’s eyes from down in the casino.
There was only movement. Sensual, sinful, sweaty movement.
I’d been solely sleeping with Demitri for almost two years now, and I never got tired of his body or how he loved mine.
He was only a year older than me, but he fucked like he’d been taught by the Gods. He worshiped my body like it was treasure, every inch of my skin another piece of gold for him to admire.
Demitri fucked me in that hotel room like he was trying to fuck me back into one piece. He breathed harder, thrust deeper, massaged his fingers against and inside of me longer as if his touch could mend the cracks in my soul.
As if sex was more than just sweat, and spit, and not giving a fuck.
And he didn’t stop until I’d come undone beneath him. Twice.
Demitri dropped his head into the crook of my neck, hot breath and sweat from his forehead sticking to my skin. Muscles in his back tensed beneath my palms as he pushed himself up, capturing my lips in his for the umpteenth time. We both were panting hard, naked bodies rubbing slick against each other as harsh breathing filled the room.
My lungs cried as he kissed me longer and deeper, as if he was trying to pull something out of me we both knew wasn’t there.
“Okay,” I said, breaking free to gasp for air. “If we don’t stop, I think I might pass out.”
“You don’t think I could wake you up with true love’s kiss?” he breathed, wiggling his eyebrows at me. He was completely unphased by my rejection.
“For one of the U.S.’s most wanted weapons smugglers, you’re nauseatingly romantic. Shouldn’t the two personalities be a conflict of interest?” I joked.
“Well, firstly,” Demitri shifted onto his elbow, propping himself up next to me on the mattress, “I’m offended by your stereotypes. Just because I may participate in criminal activity on the occasion—”
“Daily.”
“Doesn’t mean that I can’t also love love.” The sides of his eyes pinched as he scrutinized me. “Do you know what my favorite movie is?”
“My Big Fat Greek Wedding?” I suggested with a smirk.
His expression fell. “Just because I’m Greek doesn’t mean I only love Greek things. We went over this with Greek salad last year.”
“I thought it was a fair guess to order you for lunch,” I replied with a shrug.
“I hate salad.”
“You still ate it.”
He nodded once. “Because you got it for me.”
Rolling my eyes, I quipped, “Sap.”
A strand of rogue, dark hair caught my eye plastered against his forehead from our sweat, and I swiped my thumb across his skin to move it back in place with the rest of his unruly hair. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until I dropped my hand to rest on his shoulder, and his eyes were waiting to catch mine.
“Do I ever pretend to be anything else?”
And there he had me. Demitri was now, and had always been, unapologetically himself.
“And my favorite movie is The Notebook, by the way.”
“Never seen it.”
“That’s… the cruelest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
With a snicker, I pushed him off of me and traveled on bare feet to the bathroom. After I finished cleaning myself up, Demitri and I switched so he could do the same. By the time he came back out of the bathroom, I was rolling my thong up my thighs, bra already back intact over my chest.
“I flushed the condom down the toilet as payback for how shitty this hotel is.” He sank his body down next to me on the bed, still naked as a baby. “Vegas isn’t exactly known for cleanliness, but this place is low bar.”
