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The man is a freaking god. Rippling muscles defined by the dark ink of tattoos move smoothly beneath his taut, bronzed skin. Half-sitting, I look up at him, my palms sliding down his arms, his chest, his abs. His cock juts out, thick and heavy and I press my lips against the velvety head. I flick my tongue over it and his stomach muscles clench.
“I want to be inside you,” he says, a hand on my shoulder pushing me gently back onto the bed. I reach up to slide my arms around his shoulders, sighing as he settles between my legs. Strong arms frame my head as he hovers over me, hips moving slightly as he taunts me with the tip of his cock.
“Please…” I murmur, gazing into his eyes. I suck in a breath when he thrusts in deep, a smooth, fluid movement that sends a wave of tingles over my entire body. “Oh! God!” The words feel torn from me. His movements are slow and deliberate at first, and then faster as the pleasure builds between us.
“Zayka,”he says the words through gritted teeth, his hand cupping my face as he stares into my eyes. There’s a wealth of meaning in that look, but I can’t ask him to voice it because right now, it’s almost too hard to breathe, let alone speak.
“Yesss,” is all I manage, the sound coming out on a hiss as my back bows and my eyes roll back. He’s still staring at me when I manage to look back at him, and suddenly I feel like I’m something rare and precious. It’s almost unnerving.
Soon enough, his movements become more urgent, his hips jerking wildly against mine as his orgasm draws nearer. Our words are replaced by sighs and moans as we succumb fully to the moment. Everything else fades away until there is nothing left but us – two souls intertwined in an act of pure bliss.
And then I feel it – almost like an electric charge in my brain – but so much more powerful than that; it’s a feeling too strong to be contained inside my body. I’m going to explode.
“Yes! Oh! Fuck, I’m gonna come!” I cry out. He cups my cheek in his palm again, holding my face so that I can’t look anywhere apart from up at him.
“Come for me,Zayka,” he growls, and I stare up, lips parted as I gasp for air. He’s taken it from me. Taken the air from my lungs. The sanity from my mind. And he’s filled my heart with something I can’t describe.
“Anton!” The cry is hoarse, then it’s silenced by his mouth as he closes his lips over mine. His breath is hot on my cheek as he thrusts hard into me and then stiffens. I feel his body clenching against mine as his own orgasm rips through him. I wrap my arms around him tightly, letting his heat and strength soak into me.
We’re both gasping by the time the shudders subside. Our bodies collapse against each other, both trembling with the intensity of what just happened.
“Ty chudo,” he murmurs against my throat, his face nuzzled into the curve of my neck. I don’t know what it means, but I love the sound of it. He presses a gentle kiss against my shoulder before rolling over to lie next to me on the bed. His arm is draped around my waist and we lie there in blissful silence.
It’s this moment that I realize that Anton has not only been my protector and partner in this dangerous world. He’s also my sanctuary. And as we cling to each other, our bodies entwined in the aftermath of our passion, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it side by side, our bond stronger than ever before.
“Whatever comes next,” I whisper into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around me in response. And with those words, I allow myself to believe in a future together. A future with Niko. With our child.
For just a moment, I believe in it.
Chapter 17
Anton
The early morning light seeps through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. My body feels warm and sated from last night, muscles still languid. Scarlett’s scent lingers on the sheets, intoxicating and inviting.
Yet, she’s gone.
Even as I shake off the fog of sleep, I feel myself frown. My hand reaches for the spot where she should be, finding only cold sheets.
Pushing myself into a sitting position, I look around the room. There’s no sound coming from the adjoining bathroom. Her clothes are no longer abandoned on the floor.
What the fuck?
Concern washes over me, replacing my sense of contentment. I throw off the covers and move to my feet, hastily pulling on clothes – a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt. My mind races as I contemplate every possible scenario.
“Scarlett?” I call out, hoping that she’s simply in another room. But there’s only silence.
I head out of my suite and into the hallway, peering into empty rooms as I pass them.
Kitchen, maybe?
I consider the idea of her coming down to surprise me with breakfast in bed. I scoff at the thought. Scarlett is many things, but domesticated? No. But I don’t care about her cooking skills. There are a lot of other ways I’d like her to surprise me in bed.
I don’t find her barefoot in the kitchen anyway, so I keep looking.
My search takes me through the house, the vast hallways echoing with each hurried step. I catch faint echoes of other voices in the house, but none of them is hers. She’s not in here. Every inch of the opulence surrounding me begins to feel suffocating.
I find myself worried.
