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The orgasm is like a surge of lava inside me, rushing up under tremendous pressure, filling me with heat until I reach a point of no return. Until I explode and shatter into a thousand pieces with his name a choked scream on my lips and my inner muscles spasming around him, milking his cock as he pounds into me, faster and harder. He’s going to come too, any second now, I can feel it, and somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice of sanity pipes up, quietly at first, then louder and more insistently.
My eyes fly open as I remember what it was that I couldn’t allow. “Stop!” The plea comes out weak, breathless, and he doesn’t hear me, or if he does, he ignores it. I try harder, gripping his hair to pull his head back. “Alexei, please… don’t come inside me!”
His eyes meet mine, the glittering dark orbs feral and uncomprehending. He’s too far gone to stop, even if he wanted to. But then a flicker of comprehension passes over his tightly drawn face, and his thrusting pace slows.
I exhale in relief, relaxing my grasp on his hair.
He heard me.
He’ll stop.
He—
He sets his jaw, his eyes turning hard and gem-like, and he plunges into me so deeply I cry out as he hits my cervix. His gaze is still holding mine as he shudders all over and, buried deep inside me, begins to come.
Chapter 18
Alexei
Each time I’ve given in to Alina’s pleas, I’ve regretted it. And I would’ve regretted it this time too—or so I tell myself as I listen to her cry after one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I’m holding her, but it doesn’t matter. The gulf between us is enormous, insurmountable. Even though she’s naked in my arms, her wet face buried in my chest, she may as well be locked in her brother’s compound a thousand miles away, unreachable, untouchable.
She’s crying quietly, without any drama or accusations, yet every tear that falls on my skin burns like hot wax. My chest feels heavy and tight, each breath requiring effort.
I didn’t think it would be like this.
I didn’t know her misery would feel like butter knives cutting me into small pieces.
“Stop,” she said, and I didn’t. Because in that moment, all I could think about was filling her with my seed, binding her to me in the most primitive way possible. It’s what I’d decided on, what I’d determined would be best for both of us. So why do I feel like I’ve fucked up? Like I’ve just broken something beautiful and fragile? There was nothing to break. She claimed to hate me anyway. And yet… I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to her quiet sniffles, and when she pushes at my chest to free herself, I let her go.
She grabs the robe and dashes to the bathroom. I watch her slender figure disappear inside, every muscle in my body tense despite the earth-shattering release I’ve just experienced. I want to go after her, to tell her… what? What the fuck can I tell her?
That I won’t do it again?
That would be a lie.
That I’m sorry?
She’d laugh in my face.
Motherfucker.
I roll over and punch a pillow.
It’s not enough. I need something harder. Or someone.
That’s it. I jump to my feet and throw on my pants before striding out of the cabin. Ruslan should’ve gone home by now, but since he’s still here, he might as well be of use.
I find him in his cabin, taking a nap. At my entrance, he yawns and sits up, rubbing his face.
I throw him a pair of jeans. “Get the fuck up.”
His expression sharpens, all traces of sleep vanishing from his face. “What happened?” He leaps off the bed and yanks on the jeans without bothering with underwear. Like me, he sleeps in the nude. “Did—”
“Deck. Now.” I turn and head to the stairs. A few seconds later, Ruslan catches up to me, and we go up together.
He must’ve figured out my mood because he doesn’t ask any more questions, and when we reach the deck, he goes on the defensive immediately, lifting his fists to protect his face as I throw the first punch.
We fight silently, grunting only when one or the other makes contact. It’s midday and the sun is brutal overhead, but neither of us gives a damn. We’re used to fighting in subzero cold and in scorching heat, in rain and in snow, on rooftops and knee-deep in mud.
If there’s one thing our father did right, it was hiring Spetznaz soldiers to train us from kindergarten age onward. I didn’t appreciate it in the first few years, but now, a good, hard fight and other forms of physical exertion is how I keep my equilibrium. It’s also how I’ve been able to get through all those years of waiting for my bride without going mad.
