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A hot, stinging pressure gathers behind my lids, and a peculiar lump takes residence in my throat. To my shock, I recognize that I’m on the verge of crying—and not from fear or anger. Alexei’s decade-long obsession with me is terrifying, entirely unwelcome, but it’s also… oh, fuck. I blink rapidly to stop the moisture pooling in my eyes from spilling out, but it happens anyway, the fat tears gathering at the corners of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks, messing up my makeup anew.
Worse yet, I’m looking at him as it happens, and he sees it—how his admission affects me, the way his words pull on my emotions against all logic, all common sense. I hate him, I really do, yet there’s a tiny, needy part of me that can’t help but want what he’s offering, that’s tempted to take the bait despite knowing what awaits me if I do.
“Alinyonok…” His voice softens, gentles, even as a fierce, dangerous flame burns in his eyes. Slowly, as if afraid to spook me, he brings his head down until his lips hover by my ear, his breath warm on my skin as he whispers, “Give us a chance. It will work out, I promise.”
And before I can turn away, he presses his lips to the wet streak on my cheek, kissing away the tears, pulling on the strings he’s hooked to me like the puppet master that he is.
Chapter 11
Alexei
Something has changed. Something has shifted between us. I can feel it.
She doesn’t turn her cheek away from my lips. Doesn’t stiffen or try to move away as I use my grip on her hands to pull her closer until her dress is pressed against my wet skin and her flat belly cradles my stiff erection. I can taste the salt of her tears, and it makes me so fucking hard I all but shake with the need to push her onto the bed, to tear off her flimsy, pretty underwear and plunge deep inside her soft, wet heat.
Except I promised. I fucking promised.
So I call on every self-control technique I’ve mastered over the years and trail my lips down to her jaw, mopping up those exquisite tears. She closes her eyes, and I feel her tremble as I near her mouth, those plush red lips that have been driving me insane for a decade. Only I don’t kiss her there. My goal is her other cheek, more of that delicious, salty wetness that tells me I’m getting through to her, that she’s finally hearing what I’m saying.
Her lashes flutter as I brush my lips over her closed lids, and something moves inside me, an odd, powerful feeling that both competes with and adds to the lust burning in my veins, the hunger for her that knows no bounds. I’ve told her the truth: I want to make her happy, to give her everything she’s ever wanted. But I also want to take her. To consume her. To crush her resistance until she admits she’s mine—that she’ll always be fucking mine.
Shuddering from the force of my need, I move my hands to her face, cradling her cheeks between my palms, and as her lids lift, revealing her jade-green eyes, I slant my lips over hers, drinking her in, reveling in her taste, her feel, her lush sensuality. She’s never been able to deny me her physical response—and she doesn’t now. As I sweep my tongue over her lips, she parts them, letting me into the soft, hot recesses of her mouth. Her tongue tangles with mine, softly at first, a butterfly’s tender caress, then more decisively, with open hunger. I groan, deepening the kiss, and she presses her body against mine, her hands clutching at my sides.
In this, at least, we are aligned.
She wants me. She can’t fight it.
Except she is fighting, I realize with a jolt. She’s wedged her hands between us and is trying to push me away, her sharp little teeth digging into my lower lip. The tiny spike of pain is shocking, like suddenly being clawed by a cuddly kitten. I jerk back, staring at her incredulously, and she pushes harder, freeing herself and stumbling back.
“You promised!” Tears glitter like raindrops on her long lashes as she stares up at me, her red lips trembling as she backs away. “Alexei, you fucking promised…”
Anger spikes through me, overlaid with the bitter sting of betrayal. It’s illogical, I know, but mere moments ago, it felt like we were on the same page, finally moving past all the unnecessary obstacles she’s erected in her mind. And here we are again, with her holding me to a promise I never should’ve made. A promise I had no intention of breaking.
“I said I won’t fuck you. I didn’t promise not to do anything else.” My words are hard and clipped, my tone ice even as fire roars inside me, a mix of lust and fury that leaves no room for reason and patience.
