My moans create the room’s soundtrack as my thighs clench and begin to tremble.
Smug doesn’t even begin to describe his expression. “Let go for me,lyubimaya.”
The tension shatters, exploding in a burst of ecstasy that leaves me gasping beneath him. My vision blurs as I ride out the waves.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t ease up. Alexei forces me to ride each aftershock, prolonging the sensation until I’m whimpering from overstimulation.
Only then does he gentle his touch.
I collapse against the table and gulp air into my burning lungs. My limbs are heavy, as though disconnected from my body, and my mind floats somewhere near the ceiling.
Alexei straightens. The smugness has vanished. No triumph gleams in his eyes, only that same intense focus and careful assessment. He never even touched himself to seek his own climax. Because this encounter wasn’t about mutual satisfaction.
This was about ownership. About boundaries, or lack thereof.
“Okay.” My foggy brain finally allows me to speak again. “Good. No sex.”
His lips twitch. Wordlessly, he raises his glistening fingers to his mouth, and my core tightens as his tongue darts out to lick them.
I clench my eyes shut. Was this his victory or mine? Did I maintain my boundary, or did he demonstrate how meaningless my limit is?
And why, despite everything, do I already want him to touch me again?
Either way, I need to be careful. I can’t allow this to destroy me.
Chapter 25
Alexei
Aurora floats through my kitchen like she belongs here with the gleaming appliances and countertops. Light streams through the wall of windows, burnishing her brown tresses into copper and gold. I should be reviewing security footage, checking inventory reports, and making calls.
Yet my laptop sits next to me on the couch, forgotten.
Instead, I watch her.
The borrowed sweatpants ride low on her hips, and an oversize t-shirt hangs loose on her frame. My mother’s ring sparkles on her finger. She’s adorned in my belongings, head to toe.
Mine.
She may not realize this yet, but I may never let her go.
She hums under her breath as she cracks eggs against the side of a bowl, scattering fragments of shell across my once immaculate counter. She seems peaceful. Happy, even.
I can’t look away.
The scraping of the spatula sets my teeth on edge. Metal raking nonstick coating. EvenIknow she’s ruining my cookware.
I fight the urge to cross the distance and show her the proper method. Not that I do much cooking. But I can still fry a damn egg without destroying my pan in the process.
A soft curse chases a gasp. “Don’t worry. Just dropped an egg!”
I cringe. A fucking egg. Splattered across my clean floor. Yellow yolk spreading like a wound over the polished concrete. I grip the arm of the couch, fingers digging into the leather. Pixie scampers out of sight behind the counter.
“Oops, there goes another one.” Aurora laughs, the sound far too bright for the disaster she’s creating. “Don’t worry. Pixie won’t eat it. She doesn’t like eggs.”
“Why would I worry about her eating it?” At least that would leave less mess for me.
“Because raw eggs are bad for kitties, silly.”
