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A grin spreads over his face. “I’ll test that one night when you least expect it. We’ll see how deep you sleep when I’m hammering into your pussy.”
Jesus.
The image of the fantasy has my abdomen clenching and my core flushing with heat.
Reaching out a hand, I tug his sweatpants down, so his cock jumps free. I drink in the sight of his velvet skin, wrapped tightly over the muscle, then trail a finger from the head to the base.
“Make love to me, Misha,” I whisper. “Like you did when you thought you were saying goodbye.”
He pushes his sweatpants all the way off and removes my panties before he crawls over me. The weight of his body pushes mine into the mattress.
Just the way I like it.
Misha’s eyes lock with mine, and seeing how much he loves me makes me feel treasured and safe.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you,moy malen'kiy olen'?”
I nod, and as he pushes his hard length inside me, I say, “Just as much as I love you.”
Chapter 39
Aurora
Getting ready for my first date with Misha, I try on another dress.
Abbie shakes her head again. “You look like a kid going to a birthday party.” Getting up from where she was sitting on my bed, she says, “I’m going to grab a couple of dresses from my closet.”
I watch her dart out of my bedroom before looking at my reflection in the mirror.
Yeah, she’s right.
Damn, when did I even buy this?
I take the dress off and check through my clothes but give up after a minute.
Abbie comes rushing back in with her arms full and drops the dresses on my bed. “Let’s see.” She digs in the pile and pulls out a shimmering jade dress.
A chuckle escapes me. “I think that’s a little too formal.”
“So?” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “It’s your first date with Misha.”
“Yeah, but I’ll stand out in a restaurant.” My teeth worry my bottom lip.
Abbie shoves the dress into my hands, then looks me dead in the eye. “So what? Ra-Ra, it doesn’t matter what other people think. Screw them. You’re a bratva slash mafia princess. You can wear whatever you want.”
She’s right.
“Okay.” Giving her a smile, I step into the dress.
Abbie helps me pull up the zipper, and when I check my reflection in the mirror, a wide smile splits over my face.
“Now that’s what I call a first date dress,” Abbie murmurs, looking a little emotional.
Turning around, I give her a hug. “Thank you for sharing this moment with me.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
As I pull back, my eyes scan over her face. The bruises are healing nicely. It’s been two weeks since the attack, and things have returned to normal.
