Lifting his hands, he trapped mine against his chest. His thumb brushed over the back of them, sending a shiver up my spine that I couldn’t hide. “I don’t want to live like this. You are right.”
The tone of his voice made my head snap upwards, my eyes questioning.
“Start over?” Over and over again, his thumb swiped against my skin. “No more—”
I didn’t know what made me do it, I surged up on my bare feet and pressed my lips against his. When I settled back down on my feet, he was staring at me in shock. “What was that for?”
I shrugged because, honestly, I didn’t know. “I just felt like doing it.”
For several long seconds, he just stared at me. And then a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitched. “Then do it again.”
My hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders, and I lifted myself up to my tiptoes again. My lips found his softly.
And God, they were soft. There was nothing hot and passionate about the kisses I gave him, and his hands didn’t grab at me and yank me into him. Aleixie stood with his arms at his side and his soft lips moving over mine.
He let me lead and kiss him the way I wanted to. And knew how much it cost him not to be in control. When I opened his lips with mine, the tip of my tongue tentatively touring his, I heard his chest rumble in a groan.
I shouted back, “Am I…?”
His eyes were buttonless dark pits encircled with thick black lashes that were almost feminine this close. How had I not noticed before how beautiful his eyes were? He lifted an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Am I doing it right?”
Alexei reached one hand out for my hip and brought me flush into his body. His giant form bet over mine. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, Amy. You kiss me like you mean it, like you want to.”
I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. “I don’t have much experience.”
“I know,” he answered huskily. His fingers kneaded my hip. Not hard, but with a soft hypnotic rhythm that sent a pulse through my lower stomach.
“But I want to learn,” I said shyly. “I want to learn how to be a good wife for you.”
For the space of one whole heartbeat, he just stared at me, and then his hand was back in my hair, and his lips were back on mine. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth. “Are you sure?”
Silently, I nodded.
“We will go slow, not like last time.” His head dropped to my jaw, and he kissed along it and then down. My head fell back with a softmoan. My hands clung to his wide-muscled shoulders as he bent me backwards.
“It won’t be like last time.” Alexei’s mouth fell to the hollow of my throat. And what a mouth it was. When he kissed me, it felt like I could scream with frustration. But when he kissed there like he was doing it, it felt like my whole body was melting, and it was only his hands on my body that kept me on my feet.
My knees felt weak. Each breath that left my lungs was a torturous rasp. I’d never felt anything like it before because this was more than horniness. It felt completely different from the passion of our wedding night. Each one of his kisses felt deliberate, almost like he was trying to draw out as much pleasure as possible.
It was incredible, but it wasn’t enough. I might not have a lot of experience, but my body knew what it wanted.
“Touch me,” I moaned on an out breath. His lips slowed, but didn’t stop their onslaught on the sensitive flesh of my throat.
“Please, Alexei,” I begged, and the voice that left my mouth didn’t even sound like me anymore. “I need you to touch me.”
I didn’t have to ask twice. He groaned once low in his throat, and his hand came up to cup my breast, sliding his fingers under the thin material of my bra. He teased my straining nipple with the tips of his fingers.
“Touch you?” His voice was a low growl. “With pleasure.” The lips on my throat moved, and I instantly missed their warm wetness. He straightened, his hand still trapped against my breast.
His mouth came back to mine, harder and faster, his tongue swiping against mine in time with his. The moan that left my throat sounded desperate. I grabbed at him, and he caught my wrists easily.
“Let me touch you.” Entwining our fingers, he placed my hand against his lower stomach just above the waistband of his slacks. My fingers wanted to trail lower, to cup the bulge I could see pressing against his zipper. But would that be allowed? Or would he think that was too forward?
Catching my look, Alexei smiled. And it was unlike any smile I hadever seen on his face; it was almost soft. “You can touch me, Amy,” he muttered.
“I don’t know how.”
