“I-I want you to kiss me.”
He leans forward to brush his mouth against mine. Briefly. A tease. “And?”
“Touch me.”
“Where?” The word is a growl.
“Everywhere.” The word is barely a whisper of breath.
“As you wish,” Dmitri says, and before I can say anything else, he kisses me deeply. His hands slide down my sides, gripping my hips, and suddenly he’s lifting me onto the kitchen island. The cool marble beneath my thighs makes me gasp against his mouth.
He steps between my legs, pushing them apart to accommodate his broad frame. The hem of my dress rides up, exposing more skin, and I should feel self-conscious, but all I feel is want.
“Lie back,” he says, his voice a low command.
I hesitate for only a moment before obeying, lowering myself onto the cool surface. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
Dmitri’s hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher until it’s bunched around my waist. He looks down at me—spread out on his kitchen island in nothing but my underwear—and the hunger in his eyes makes me dizzy.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties. “How long I’ve wanted to taste you?”
Before I can respond, he drags the fabric down my legs and tosses it aside. Cool air hits my most intimate places, and I instinctively try to close my legs, but his hands grip my thighs, holding me open.
“Don’t hide from me, Mireille.”
He lowers his head, and the first stroke of his tongue makes me cry out. My hands fly to his hair, gripping the dark strands as he devours me with a single-minded focus that steals my breath. He licks and sucks and teases, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me moan, what makes my hips buck against his mouth.
The pressure builds impossibly fast. I’ve never felt anything like this—this consuming, overwhelming pleasure that radiates from my core outward. My legs start to shake, my moans growing louder.
“Dmitri—I can’t. I’m going to—”
“Let go,” he growls against my flesh. “Come for me.”
The command pushes me over the edge. I shatter, my back arching off the marble, my entire body trembling with the force of my release.
When the waves finally subside, I lie there gasping, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe. Dmitri places a gentle kiss on my inner thigh, then rises, looking down at me with a satisfied smirk.
“That’s one,” he says.
I blink at him, still dazed. “One?”
His smirk deepens. “We’re just getting started, beautiful.”
Before I can process what that means, he scoops me off the counter, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me toward the stairs. When we enter his bedroom, he lets me down gently, but his arms remain loosely wrapped around my waist.
“Let's get you out of this properly,kukolka,” he says, reaching behind me to slowly pull down the zipper of my dress, his knuckles grazing my naked flesh as he goes. Then he slides thedress off my shoulders, letting it slip off my body and pool on the floor. Now, I'm standing in front of him in nothing but my pink bra—my panties lost somewhere in the kitchen.
I wrap my arms around myself, immediately feeling self-conscious. But Dmitri pushes my arms apart, settling them at my sides.
“Don't hide from me,” he says, his voice husky with blatant desire. “You are perfect.”
He leans forward and kisses my shoulder, trailing his mouth slowly up my neck to my jaw, backing me toward the bed until my knees hit the edge. I sit without realizing it, a gasp catching in my throat.
“Lie back,” he commands.
I obey, and he settles beside me, propping himself on one elbow. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to,moya kukolka,” he says, trailing his finger down my neck to the hollow of my chest. “Do you trust me?”
My eyes become hazy, my breathing more rapid than before. I nod, unable to get any word past my parched lips.
