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Or was he like this with every woman he’s been with?
As soon as I recognise the thoughts firing through my mind, I quickly silence them before they spiral out of control.
“Kirill,” I gasp when he pulls away for air, “I-” He doesn’t let me finish my sentence as his lips trail down my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“I want you,” he growls against my skin before lifting his head to meet my eyes again. The intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt or denial. And honestly? I don’t want to deny him anything right now.
“Fuck… yes,” I breathe out as his hands slide underneath my shirt and palm my breasts through the lace of my bra. He groans at the contact, and then suddenly, he scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing at all and strides across the room.
“Ty sogrevayesh’ moyu dushu,” he murmurs as he sets me down on the bed. His eyes rove over me in a way that makes my heart stutter. He then sinks down, one knee between my thighs, his hands planted on either side of me. He dips his head to capture my lips again, and I arch up to meet him, draping my arms around his neck.
Even after this time, I can’t believe what this man does to me.
But this time, there is something different to him. His touches are softer and more gentle than I’ve ever felt from him before. He caresses my skin as if I might shatter, his hands leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His lips trail down my neck, whispering words against my skin that make me shiver with delight. I don’t understand any of it, but the passion behind them connects with some part of me that I don’t quite understand.
But it’s not just that. There is something else about his demeanour. An air of vulnerability that I can’t put a finger on. He’s never been like this before, and it makes my heart clench in my chest.
He lowers himself between my thighs, his heated gaze locking with mine as he undresses me slowly, methodically, peeling my shirt over my head, and then my jeans down my thighs. Then he stands at the edge of the bed, his eyes still holding mine as he unbuttons his black shirt and shrugs it off, before working on the button of his pants.
God, he’s beautiful…
It’s been weeks, and still, I’m speechless whenever I see him undress. It’s like my own personal strip show, and I’m half afraid that if I reach out to touch him, I’ll be told not to handle the goods. But I can. So I do.
I sit up to trail my fingers over the swirling tattoos that follow the lines of muscle that sweep from his shoulders to his chest, and then down his belly. Everything is taut, rippling, firm. When I press my lips to the tight indentation of his navel, his abs twitch.
“Slowly, Ptichka.” His voice is husky. “You will set me off with that hot little mouth of yours, and I will shame myself.” He grins.
It’s not true. The man can go for hours, no matter what I do with my mouth. But I don’t complain when he sinks down to take my lips again, his breath hot on my face. With one hand on my shoulder, he guides me back down to the bed, following me with his body as he does. When our naked skin meets for the first time tonight, it’s like we’re two halves of a whole finally coming together.
Two halves that made a whole baby.
The wonder of it is staggering. I should tell him. I don’t know what the consequences might be or how he’ll react. But he has the right to know. I know it more surely than I’ve ever known anything.
“Ty razbudila vo mne davno zabytoye.” He stares into my eyes, and I find myself gazing back, feeling awestruck by the intensity there.
“Um… sure,” I say stupidly because I’m not quite sure how to respond. His lips curl up teasingly at the corners, and then he runs his hand down my chest, watching as he cups my breast in his palm, thumbing over my puckering nipple. My back arches, and I groan out a sigh. He’s done this often, but every time my body responds as if it’s been shocked. Except tonight, he’s more gentle than he ever was. His every touch is reverent, as if he’s afraid that he’ll break me.
His passion does not leave me cold. Far from it. It makes me burn with need I never thought my body is capable of. His lips find mine again, and our tongues dance together in a sensual rhythm that mirrors our bodies below. He’s resting over me, our thighs entwined as I grind myself against him wantonly.
It’s hard to believe that just weeks ago, I’d never had a man inside me, and now it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Having him inside me, that is. Because even though I’ve never been with anyone else, I no longer want to.
“Kirill…” I sigh, my hands tracing from his shoulders down his back to the hard lines of his ass. When he grazes his teeth along my throat, I find myself panting, my nipples so tight that they almost feel painful. “Oh, God!” I gasp when he slides a hand up my inner thigh and cups my pussy. He presses a finger between my slick lips, giving a low, appreciative murmur as he slides into me.
“So wet, little bird.” He nips my neck in the curve where it meets my shoulder. Then his teeth rake over my nipple, and my core clenches around his finger. “Wet and tight.” He smiles down at me. For a change, he’s not teasing when he says it, and it drives my need higher.
“I want you,” I heave out, cupping his cheek with my palm. “I want you, Kirill Vyronov.”
Shifting until he’s wedged firmly between my thighs, he hooks up my knee, resting the line of his shaft against me. I bob my hips up, urging him forward until I feel the thick head of his cock breach my slit. Slowly, achingly so, he slides his enormous length into me, his eyes never leaving mine. The way he looks at me in this moment... it steals my breath away.
He sinks in to the hilt with such ease, it knocks the air out of my lungs. He’s filled my insides so much that I couldn’t even fit a grain of sand in there if I wanted. I can feel every inch of his cock straining against me.
And then slowly pulls out, leaving me aching for more, even though this slow, delicious friction is almost enough to make me come already. I soak in the sensations, letting them sweep me away. Letting him sweep me away.
Oh my God, what this man does to me.
The pace picks up gradually, but still not like our usual frantic encounters. This time it’s different; it means something. It is more than just two people seeking release from their own demons for a little while. This time... this time it feels like we’re making love for the very first time.
Making love?
