Although I’m not sure who’s possessing who, as I coax her to wrap her legs around my waist. As her hips bump against mine in clumsy, sweet need before she bites down on her lip and I chase the sting away with my own mouth, moving with her slowly until we are perfect, fluid harmony.
And I don’t look away. I don’t want to miss a single second of her pleasure as she chases it, her face raw and open in a way I have never seen before. Her eyes stay on mine as she moans, the sound reverberating deep in her throat as I push her harder, faster.
I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in as ripples of blinding need shoot down my spine. “Fucking perfect, Stasi.”
And when she tightens around me, when her hands grip mine and she cries out my name, I can’t stop myself from spilling into her with sudden, belated realization even as I moan her name like a fucking prayer.
Stasi. Stasi.Stasi.
And as I press her down into the soft bedding, pinning her with my hips and the weight of every fucking dream I’ve had of her over the years, I know that this will never, ever be enough.
She grins at me, her face damp and sparkling as she tries to catch her breath. “That was… unexpected.”
And her voice sounds so fucking coy that my lips twist up. “Liar.”
She laughs breathlessly, her head dropping back to the bed. “Maybe notcompletelyunexpected.”
I untangle us reluctantly, and she sits up as I come out of the bathroom, her gaze dropping to my hand. “What’s that?”
“Lie back.” Her cheeks darken as I nudge her shoulders down, the minx disappearing into sudden shyness as I spread her open.I can’t stop myself to take a moment. “Fuck, you have a pretty cunt, Anastasia.”
“Silas!” She squeaks as I press my finger in just a little, enjoying the view.
“But it’s even prettier when it’s full of me.” I look up at her as I press the cloth into her, slowly cleaning her up and reminding myself to get her birth control first thing tomorrow.
She bites her lip. “This doesn’t fix everything.”
The world around us threatens to rush in at her words, to choke us under the weight of expectation and demand, but I hold it back. Just for tonight.
Tonight is for us.
“No,” I say softly. I climb onto the bed, tugging the covers from underneath her and drawing them over us. Closing the world out. “But it can wait, Stasi. Everything else can wait for tonight.”
I draw her against me, the warm skin of her bare back pressing into my chest. She stiffens, suddenly. “I’m cold. Do you have a… a shirt I can borrow?”
Frowning, I glance down at the top of her head, the mess of curls. I want to feel her, but I slide back out and fetch her a shirt anyway. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She sits up and shrugs it on, her muscles relaxing as I drag her back to me, my hand curling over her bare hip. Her voice is sleepy when she speaks. “What do we do now, Silas?”
I consider the question; my finger tracing gentle circles over her skin.
I should tell her about the dinner. Should have already told her that her stepsister is coming here, to Oakbourne.
But if she asks me why we’ve invited them… I don’t know how to explain it without hurting her.
How would she respond if I tell her that I still need that final piece of proof? To know for certain?
I’m not an idiot. Deep down, Iknowthat she’s not what they say. I know how the truth can be twisted, that the public perception of Anastasia could well have been shaped into something so far from the truth that it’s unrecognizable.
The Anastasia in my arms, soft and sated and mine, is not the one that they think they know.
But she did lie to us, before. For months, day after day.
And maybe I need to know how deep her shades of gray are before I can open myself up completely. Not that it will change anything. My hand clenches on her hip, and she wriggles, a small protest falling from her lips.
No. Anastasia belongs to me. Tous. Because Rafe and Kit will not let her go, either.
And if it turns out that we were wrong all along, then I’ll get down on my knees and beg her forgiveness for doubting her. I’ll rip Crispin and his preciousCinderellainto pieces for ruining her life.
