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We’re fucked, already. No matter what she or I do, we are fucked, and we’re fucked together.
We might as well enjoy it, and leap off the cliff together.
Chapter Eleven
Kat
When he kisses me back, it’s with none of the tenderness of the other night. It’s hard, rough with anger, and he grabs me by my neck in a way that startles me. It’s painful the way he’s pinching the nape of my neck with animalistic intention, and yet, only a small pleasured sound escapes my mouth and disappears right into his own.
We’re both moving now, staggering through the doorway and back toward the bed, our hands tangled and searching, wild, clumsy as we dance our fingers across each other’s skin. I yank my shirt off, not worried about where it flies to, and then shove my hands toward the hem of his shirt, tugging it off roughly. I can feel his thick length, pressed rock hard against my thigh, causing the heat between my legs to intensify, sending a shaky breath from my lips. Every inch of me is desperate for him, ready and angry and vengeful and hopeful and almost happy, in some dangerous, delirious way; I’m alive, and awake, vividly viewing everything unfold around me.Marriage. Marriage! What the hell is he thinking?
And can he be serious?
Aleks plunges his tongue into my mouth, cutting my thoughts off, stroking and engulfing my senses, forcing my tongue down, despite my best efforts to take control of this quickly heated situation. His demeanor is so dominating that I moan again, letting him take control and shove me back onto the bed. He grabs me by the hips and drags me to the edge of the mattress, dropping to his knees in the half-dark of my room. I gasp, utterly shocked at his straightforwardness as he yanks off my panties, burying his face straight between my thighs.
“Aleks,” I gasp, astonished. My fingers slide reflexively into his dark curls, and I feel pressure building up in my core. I am unable to catch my breath, completely overwhelmed by him. He pulls my thighs onto his shoulders, grasping them, holding them in place with his rough, hot palms as his tongue drags in wild, deft circles around and around my clit, sending a wave of pleasure and pain through me. I’m already overstimulated, but I can’t even form full sentences as he flicks his tongue against my wetness relentlessly. “Fuck, Aleks—”
It’s too late. The electricity in my blood and bones has already begun to spin me out of control, and it barely takes a minute of this, of his hot wet tongue sucking and lapping at me, of his dominance, to get me right up and over the edge. I see white as time slows and splinters before me, rocking my hips against his face, shaking uncontrollably as he holds my thighs still against his shoulders. I cry out garbled words—his name I think, but I can’t be sure. My spine arches, and my eyes squeeze shut as I gasp for air, grasping for a breath that will ground me. It’s like someone else is in command of my body, like I’m possessed, as euphoria pulses in waves of fire between my legs like a trigger.
Pleasure explodes behind my navel, deep in my core, rushing red-hot through my veins, rocking me in quick waves of heat and cool, and I’m barely falling back on the bed, heaving for breath, when he stands up, undoes the buckle on his pants, and thrusts himself into me without warning.
I cry out, reaching for him, helplessly and hopelessly overcome with pain and pleasure, sinking my fingers into his sides and holding onto his hip bones. His abs flex hard as he rams his cock into me, and his dark eyes lock with mine, hooded and shadowed in a vivid, lustful haze, his lips parted in sweet animalistic pleasure. He reaches out to me, sliding his hand around my throat. Closing it slowly, tighter, tighter.
He thrusts his cock into me slowly, deeply, as we hold our gaze, and shocked, I grasp onto his wrist that has pinned me into the mattress that’s now rocking with the rhythm of our bodies. But it’s soft, only a firm grasp, just to hold me in place. It’s as if he knows exactly what I want from him, that I wanthim. It’s like he knows that I am barely in a position to ask for it. For any of this.
Marriage. He wants me to marry him. A loveless marriage, out of necessity…And what would it mean, in the long run? He says I won’t need to be involved at all in his life of crime, and neither will my son.
Our son.
Does he even realize that I have already given him a family, a legacy? Does he know that he and I are linked by more than a night of pleasure, and by a desire that, clearly, has endured all these years apart for both of us? How could he? I can’t find it in me to tell him, but I know that eventually, if we are to keep up whatever this is, he will find out. How could I keep something like that from him?
“Look at me.”
I blink rapidly, startled back into the moment, tuning back into the deep, slow thrusts of his pulsating head that’s hitting a spot deep within me, to the decadent rhythm of his body and mine, rocking against one another, our hips dancing in a teasing duet; his gaze is on me, a heady, intoxicating look that sends butterflies through my core. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen something more desirable or satisfying; like I am cool water after a day of wandering the desert. He’s looking at me like a lifeline, and I realize that I’m probably looking at him the same way, our eyes locked as he thrusts into me. Suddenly, the moment fills me with a different kind of heat. A soft, pleased warmth that grows in my chest, making me feel like I can’t breathe.
Affection.
He leans forward, grabbing me with an arm around my back and dragging me up further onto the bed, shifting inside me before pulling out, causing a jolt of electricity to surge through me. He’s on top of me now, and I push up on my elbows to kiss him, wanting to seal this moment. To my surprise, and delight, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back. It’s a deep, feverish, yet gentle kiss, another new kind for the two of us. He shifts, lining his cock up with my entrance and pushing back inside of me. There’s a delicateness to his movements now, and he’s holding me closely against his burning skin as he grinds his hips into me. The yearning that has taken over our movements is potent, and I feel like the atmosphere has changed.Is this making love? What were we doing a moment ago—fucking?Something in the air is different now, deep and charged; I let it be. In fact, I embrace it, thinking again about his proposition. Or, more accurately, his demand.
Marriage…would it be so crazy? For me to have the man I’ve wanted for so long? To give myself the ability to create the life I refused to let myself indulge in? For my son—our son—to have his father?After all these years…could I tell him the truth, and set all of us free? Make up for all of the years we lost?
When he kisses me again, it’s deep, his hot tongue dancing around in my mouth. I wrap my arms around him, and my hands waltz across his skin, stunned by the presence of him, by how real he is, and how he feels. Warm flesh. Pumping blood. A beating heart. A wild mind. A dangerous man.And in this moment, he is mine and I am his.And nothing else seems to matter.
His pace quickens suddenly, and his thrusts hard and deep into me as he grips my hips, his fingertips no doubt leaving bruises on my skin. I moan, arching my back, and grinding my hips to meet his over and over. His breath is in my ear, raggedand primal, as he snaps his hips and thrusts into me. My body begins to tremble again, and I feel the stirring sensation in my core beginning to reach a peak. I can practically taste his pleasure, feel it like a scalding heat emanating from the embers that are burning between us, a heady feeling settling in the air. It’s too easy to move like this, with him. The rhythm comes too naturally, and soon we’re both breathing hard, both moaning and whining, sharing our hot breaths, the sweat dewing on our skin mingling together. There’s a desperation pounding through the air now, a race for climax, and we’re both getting there fast.
“Fuck,” he growls, sending a spell of lust through my core, causing me to clench around him. “Fuck, Kat, I’m—”
And I’m rocking into him harder, faster, moaning wildly, unable to focus on how loud I’m being. I feel that sweet heat of climax budding between my legs, and as he groans, I crack open, feeling that same intense heat explode deep inside of me. I cry out, throwing my head back into the mattress, still bucking into his hips and his rhythmic thrusting over and over as the fiery passion pushes me over the edge, even as his groans soften and quiet to deep breaths. My hands are flat against the bed, his on top of them, our fingers intertwined tightly as we reach ecstasy together. When did that happen? How didn’t I notice that? It feels intimate; a sweet and reassuring movement that is so simple, and yet, so full of warmth.That was making love.And I still feel that love, coursing through me like a sweet, sickly drug, as I come down from the high of our intimate encounter.
I sink back into the bed, breathing heavily, and after a moment Aleks does the same, falling onto his back beside me. He’s breathing hard, his chest rapidly rising and falling, and I watch as his exhales meet mine, slowing and relaxing, fully blissed out. Even in the half-dark, I can see the stuttering leap of his pulse in the hollow of his neck, in his chest.Alive.Both of us are alive in this moment. And together. We are doingall the things we clearly both want to, and yet we know, deep down, that we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t be laying here, our sweat mixing, our skin tingling as our arms rest next to each other, our bodies completely lax from the fucking that we both worked ourselves up for.No…I remind myself.The lovemaking. Because that’s what it was. Oh-so good lovemaking. Something I didn’t think he was capable of.
Aleks is quiet for a long time, and so am I. But I’d be lying if I said that I don’t have thoughts of the evening racing around my mind at a hundred miles per hour. Over all of this. Over him. It’s all happening so fast, and yet…when we went our separate ways all those years ago, it all felt so real. His world, and the dangers of it. I’ve been apart from it for so long that it started to feel fake, or like a dream; something from a book or a movie. But it’s not. It’s real. It’s pressing. It’s close, and it’s right now.
What is best for my son? What is best for me?
And what is best for his father?
“Marriage,” I say, softly, into the darkness, fatigued by the moment of passion we just shared along with the mental strain of making the best decision for all of us. Aleks turns to look at me, his lashes casting dancing shadows down his handsome face as he bats them in the low light of my bedroom. His eyes are dark pools of mysteries and surprises, deep and dangerous and infinite. I feel my face heat up, thinking about a future with those eyes. Discovering what’s hidden behind them, solving the puzzle that is Aleksander Lukin.Do I want this? Is it too much to bear for one woman?I’m not sure if I want to find out, but, despite my rational mind, the thought is intriguing. “You really think it’s the best way?”
