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I have no idea how, but suddenly, his fingers are entwining through mine. The heat of his chest is pressed against mine. It feels like we’re fusing together slowly and neither one of us can control it.
“You are never to speak to Polly or Lev ever again,” he growls.
I glare at him. “Make me.”
“Fuck,” he growls a moment before his lips slam down on mine.
Our bodies come together and it’s no-holds-barred, fully uncaged levels of chemistry. Surely he can’t be immune to this. Surely he can’t still believe that this is just sex.
No matter how good the sex may be, it doesn’t feelthisgood without a connection.
My tongue grapples with his as we each try to assert ourselves along this delicate line we’re threading. His hands slide over my body, tearing the clothes from me until I’m naked and shivering underneath him. He pushes up my leg and a moment later, I hear his zipper drag.
He touches my wet folds, sliding in and out of me before I feel his cock nuzzling my pussy. Moaning, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and wind myself as close to him as I can. His arm slides over my back and pulls me into him.
When he thrusts inside me, my eyes flutter closed. That’s the last moment of delicateness before we both fall apart. We share one long, shuddering breath—and then he fucks me harder than he’s ever fucked me before. He fucks me as though he’s trying to expel dark forces from my body. As though he’s trying to purge us both of something.
At some point between the intense thrusts, I stop thinking. I forget about the politics at play between us or the fact that I left a whole life behind when I climbed that fence. I forget about my best friend’s wedding and my dead twin sister and all the shit that populates my thoughts when I lie tossing and turning in bed at night.
Right now, I can only concentrate on the heat of those thrusts. The way his hands slide over my body, reminding me who I really belong to.
“Look at me,” he orders as I struggle to rein my body in.
My eyes meet his and that’s how we both finish—with our eyes fixed on each other and our orgasms only seconds apart.
Afterwards, Uri carries me to the bed and lays me down on it. He gets in beside me and we spend a long time just looking at each other wordlessly, recovering from what just happened, grappling with our own complicated feelings but refusing to share them with each other.
At least, that’s what I’m doing. I have no idea what he’s thinking. All I know is what I see in front of me.
He never looks away. His hand stays on my hip. There’s a storm brewing in those blue eyes but I’m left on the outside, looking in, like I’m watching through a window that refuses to open.
When he finally hauls himself out of the bed, I feel something sink to the bottom of my stomach. The realization that him staying with me in my bed was not a good thing.
It was a goodbye.
“Uri…”
“We can’t keep doing this,” he whispers softly.
I sigh. “I know.”
54
URI
“Something bothering you this morning, big brother?”
“No.”
“Really? ‘Cause you’ve been scowling at the coffee machine for the last minute like it owes you money, and before that, you seemed to have a grudge against the toaster.” Polly gives me a small smile. “Sit down. I’ll get you your coffee.”
“I can manage myself.”
“I don’t think you can. You’re about ten seconds away from hurling the coffee machine out of the window and I need my morning dose before that happens.”
I turn to look at my sister. In the morning sun slanting in through the skylights, she looks ageless and ethereal. She looks like our mother. “Since when do you drink coffee?”
“Since I realized I could get away with it without anyone noticing.”
