I pushed my back against him, eager for entrance.
He leaned down, kissing my neck. The scent of figs and cedar, of bourbon. The softness of his lips contrasting with the roughness of his palm on my neck.
Then, he sucked down hard on my skin.
I flinched, a whimper escaping.
He pushed inside. My insides filled gradually, all too willing to accommodate the intrusion. It was beginning to feel sore, and before it could hurt too much, he retreated, taking careful inventory of each breath, each sound I made.
Yet, I was doing the same. Listening to how he let himself exhale with a shaky breath, the tension in his arms as he held me, the pulsing of blood in his cock against my skin. Locking away each memory, each touch.
Was this what it was like to be obsessed?
His other hand placed low on my abdomen, holding me against him as he went in again.
He groaned into my shoulder, keeping his head down as he pushed inside once more.
I scratched at the door, his arm. I moved my hips, gasping and whimpering.
“I want you,” I said quietly.
“I need you,” he replied raggedly, keeping me tight against the door.
The pressure of his body against mine was grounding, letting me savor every inch he allowed, slowly, until there was no more to give.
Then, he thrust.
My hips knocked against the door, but he kept his hand above my pelvic bone to avoid too much impact, preparing me for what was to come.
I swore the heat coming from my face would steam, my insides would melt, my words would disintegrate the minute they tried to manifest past my throat.
“Arkady,” I whimpered, making him grip tighter, thrust harder, bottoming out inside me.
“Tell me to stop.” His voice was strained.
“Stopholding back,” I begged. “I want all of you, every lastunsavorypiece of you.”
He grunted and left love bites down my shoulder, the back of my neck.
“I’ll ruin you.” His voice low.
“Spoil me,” I gasped. “Like I’m worth the trouble.” I went up on my toes as he plunged into me, the arousal only making it easier to submit to his size and vigor.
He was angled in such a way that was meant to undo me, to form and unravel the knot wound tight inside me. The knot that has been building since the day we met, the nights we shared, the secrets we traded. All threads of fate meant to be tied.
“Petre.” He bit down on my shoulder.
I covered my mouth before I could yelp, my hips slamming into the door with every rough jolt of my body.
An involuntary sound came from me; I didn’t recognize it.
My body shook, the coursing shock so violent, so vicious, I had tremors—inside and out. Wetness dripped down my leg, soiling the dress. My head was light from holding my breath, from releasing the tension in my legs.
Arkady was still, his body pressed to mine, his cock held inside. He felt the wetness too, because it wasn’t him.
“What a mess you are.” He let out a breathless tease.
“I didn’t ... I didn’t mean—”
