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“I’m not lyi—”
“It’s fine. I’ll get the truth out of you.” He slides my pants down my legs, letting his fingertips whisper over my feverish skin. “One way or another.”
We haven’t even started and I’m electrified. I haven’t felt like this since… since five years ago. Since the last time Kirill and I were together.
He presses the heels of his hands up my thighs, massaging warmth and friction into me, but my body might as well be stone. I’m rigid, frozen with the fear that I’ll never have this again. This will be the last time I turn molten in a man’s touch. The last time I thrum with need and desire in a way that makes every second more pleasurable than the last.
He slides up my body, stroking and kissing every bit of exposed skin while exposing even more along the way.
Yet all I can think about is how much it will hurt when I’m alone in bed and Kirill is back in New York.
Before he can kiss the pulse in my neck, I slam my hand between us and tug at the front of his pants. “Take these off. Let’s get started.”
He huffs out a laugh. “That’s what I’m trying to do here.”
“Could’ve fooled me. I feel like I’m getting a physical.”
Lies. Ridiculous, laughable lies. I want Kirill’s mouth to move over every single inch of me. He could spend hours doing only this and I’d happily lie here and let him. My body is humming with awareness and Kirill is plucking all of the right strings.
He lifts onto one arm, his forearm and bicep rippling with the movement. “Tell me you aren’t critiquing my foreplay right now.”
“We’ve had five years of foreplay. Fuck me and get it over with.”
The hint of amusement on his face falls away. I feel like a germ under the microscopic lens of his gaze.
“Fuck you… and get it over with.” He lets the words trip over his lips, belaboring each one to highlight how absurd I sound.
I could shove him off of me and pull my jeans back on. I could end this before it begins and save myself the heartache, but I’m nowhere near strong enough for that. My only way out is to get the ecstasy over as soon as possible.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily.
I slide my hand inside his pants and curl my fingers around his hot length. He’s velvet granite in my hand.
When I stroke, his breath catches.
I stroke him again, and he lets his eyes fall closed.
I’ve never been in control where Kirill is concerned. It’s like trying to control a hurricane. The only thing to do is prepare and hope for the best. But maybe what he’s doing right now is a small mercy. Maybe, just this once, I’ll be the one controlling the pace.
I slide my palm up and down a few more times before I increase the pace. His hips thrust down into my grip. He won’t be able to stand much more of this. Another minute and I’ll take him inside of me and be closer to the end.
Closer to him leaving again.
Closer to the vicious withdrawal that will come when that happens.
I lose focus for just a second, but it’s enough. Kirill grabs my wrist and pins my arm to the mattress above my head.
“Hey. What are you—”
“I could ask you the same question, but I know what you’re doing.” He slips my other arm up to join the first. I’m helpless beneath him as he grinds against me. “Why are you trying to rush me, Rayne?”
The truth burns inside of me.
Because no one else has ever made me feel like this.
Because I’m afraid I won’t survive when you leave.
I keep my mouth closed, sealing the secret inside.
