I open my mouth to argue that, to ask if he even wants to bePakhan, when there’s a sudden knock on our door.
Gavriil groans and closes his eyes for a second. Then, he rolls away from me, throws back the bedding, and storms over to the door. Ripping it open in just his sweatpants, he growls a phrase in Russian that I assume means something like, “What the fuck do you want?”
I don’t hear the voice of whoever is on the other side of the door or what they say, only Gavriil’s response of, “Give me two minutes to get dressed,” before he slams the door.
Sitting up, clutching the sheets to my chest, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“No. It’s not,” he replies as he hurries to the walk-in closet. “Matvei needs to speak to me now. Whatever it is, it can’t wait. Everything is fucking falling apart!”
I hear a clatter and a curse from inside, as if he’s losing his temper.
It feels like my fault yet again. Mine and Dominik’s.
So, I decide it’s my responsibility to try and cool him down before he has to handle the next emergency.
Slipping out of bed in just my panties, I make my way to where the light is spilling from the walk-in closet right as Gavriil shoves his sweatpants down his legs and steps out of them. His back is to me, and he doesn’t hear me when I walk up and place my hand on his spine.
When he spins around to face me, he glares down at me. “You should get back in the cage.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” I repeat, because I know that’s not really what he wants, that he’s just lashing out, feeling out of control.
Placing a kiss on his chest, I tell him, “You need to calm down.” I grab the waistband of his boxer briefs to jerk them down his legs. The move frees his cock that’s half hard, as if the briefest touch of skin is all it takes for me to turn him on.
“I have to go, Alina,” he says, voice deepening, but shaky when my fingers wrap around his shaft. “There’s no time…”
“Then I better use my mouth,” I say as I drop to my knees.
Russian words spill from Gavriil in a rush. They don’t sound like objections. Especially when he gathers up all my hair in a makeshift ponytail before I’ve even licked his slit. “Hurry,” he says in English as he guides my head forward, urging me to take him into my mouth.
My lips part, allowing him entry. When I glance up at his face, I expect him to be looking down at me furious, annoyed, anything but…desperate. That’s the expression on his face, though. He’s desperate to fill my mouth, so I open wide andlet him take control, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now.
Gavriil starts with slow, shallow strokes, but that doesn’t last long before he’s fucking my mouth urgently, furiously. I gag a few times while he issues demands in his guttural native language. They’re all pretty easy to translate.
Yes. Fuck. Take me deeper. So good. I’m coming. Swallow me. Please don’t stop.
Something that sounds likeYa tebya lyublyuis repeated in between.
I increase suction at the first taste of his salty flavor and Gavriil explodes with a strangled cry of my name. His hips pump faster, shoving him down my throat.
I struggle to take everything he gives me, but even still, I’m so turned on by his rough treatment that my fingers slip between my legs, down my panties, to give me my own relief. I moan around his girth as I bring myself over the edge.
My thighs are still trembling when Gavriil grabs my shoulders, pulling me to my feet and pressing my back to the doorframe to kiss me.
“Spasibo,” he eventually says against my lips, his forehead pressed to mine. I assume that means thank you.
“You’re welcome,” I reply breathlessly when he finally pulls his lips away. He doesn’t let me go, though.
“Why?” he asks. “Why did you…”
“Because it’s what you needed. And I wanted to help you relax.”
His lips crush mine again, then he says, “It may be what I needed, but now I don’t want to leave you.”
“Go. I’ll be here when you get back,” I tell him.
