I think a small explosion actually occurs in my brain when I remember that I’m going to come, too. This is her last one. When I feel her clench on my cock this time, I’m going to fill her sweet cunt so full of me she’ll taste it on her tongue?—
“Fuck,” I mutter again as that thought nearly pushes me over. She moans loudly, and I wonder if she can feel me throbbing. I mentally shake my head. This isn’t about me.
I look back down to where we’re joined, where I’m pounding into her. Her breasts are bouncing on every thrust, and I push her just a little bit faster.
“I’m the person you’re ever going to fuck again.”
“Fuck, it’s so good.” She’s babbling again.
“No one else will compare to me.”
“Oh my god, I’m going to come again.”
“No one else.”
“Oh, god, Dimitri, please don’t stop.”
As if I could stop. I’d have to die first. My eyes fall closed, and I let myself really feel the grip of her walls as I slide between them. The supple stretch. The perfect squeeze.
“Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” Her voice is near hysterical, halfway between crying and laughing, but I don’t care.
I let go as her first tremors flutter around me, and the pulsing of my cock drives her over the edge. The pleasure is blinding as it rips through me like lightning—up through my thighs and down my spine. Her pussy is relentless, clamping down on me over and over, and long, low groans are pouring off my lips as I feel her growing slick with my come. Her hands are still tight on my back as my hips jerk into her, and her chest shudders against me with sobs of relief.
I bury my face in her neck as I follow her, my whole body shuddering with release. And in that moment of completevulnerability, something escapes my lips that I didn’t mean to say. Something I can’t take back.
“I need you.”
The words are muffled against her skin, barely audible, but I feel her go still beneath me and hear her breath catch.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, both of us trying to process what just happened. What I just admitted.
“We probably shouldn’t have done that again,” she finally says, but there’s no conviction in her voice.
“No.” I pull back enough to look at her, cupping her face in my hands, feeling sweat trickle down my back. “Probably not.”
But even as I say it, I know I’d do it again. I would do it every time if it meant feeling like this—connected, grounded, and less alone than I’ve felt since Alexei died.
“Dimitri—” She starts, but I cut her off.
“I can’t lose you too,” I confess. “I can’t. Everyone I—everyone I let myself care about ends up dead. My mother. My father. Alexei. And now someone’s trying to kill you, and I can’t—I fucking can’t go through that again. I can’t lose you.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she pulls me down into a kiss that tastes like salt and something sweeter. Relief, maybe. Understanding.
“You won’t,” she whispers against my lips. “You won’t lose me.”
It’s a promise she can’t make and we both know that. But in this moment, I let myself believe it.
We separate slowly. I help her up from the chair, steadying her when her legs wobble slightly. We dress in silence, but it’s not awkward. In fact, the air is rife with possibility, with whatever shift just happened between us.
When we’re both clothed again, we just stand there, looking at each other in the lamplight. The office is still a disaster but none of it seems as important as it did an hour ago.
Nothing seems as important as her.
“Come on,” she says softly, taking my hand.
I furrow my brow. “Where?—”
“Upstairs.” She tugs gently. “To my room. You need to sleep, and I—” She stops, color rising in her cheeks. “I want you in bed with me.”
