And after that, you’ll never let me touch you again, and all I’ll have are memories of you and how you felt.
“Because I want to,” I say. “Because I want to remember how your hands feel. How you taste. How you?—”
He doesn’t let me finish as he kisses me again, harder this time, and I stop talking because talking is dangerous.
Bodies don’t lie the same way as words.
Bodies just feel.
And I want to feel him with my entire being.
When he breaks the kiss, both of us are panting. His hand finds a handful of my hair and yanks it to expose my throat while my breasts are pressed against his chest. His lips press against my neck, nipping at the skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and his voice is rough, stripped of its usual control. “Do you know that? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Show me,” I whisper. “Show me I’m beautiful.”
His mouth starts moving lower, past my neck, and down my body until it closes around a single nipple. As he does, it sparks a fire inside of me, warming me up from inside out as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud.
I moan and press myself closer to him, and he pushes against my body. His single large hand closes around both of mine, keeping them pinned above my head while he sucks my nipple.
“Yes…” I whimper as he groans and switches breasts.
Lips, tongue, and teeth scrape across my skin, and I don’t care because it feels so fucking good. He feels so fucking good.
I throw my head back and moan, as loud as I want. The world outside and the storm have faded away, and the only thing that remains is him. His body. His tongue. His mouth. His lips. His cock pressing insistently between my legs. His weight holding me down and his knees keeping mine from closing.
Our breaths mingle by the fire, and his mouth finally releases my sore and aching breast. His hand in my hair loosens just slightly for me to move. His breath brushes my thighs, warm and wet.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes and see him settled between my legs. His gaze is dark and possessive, but his touch is gentle and reverent.
But when he presses his tongue—hot and wet—against me, it’s anything but gentle. Pleasure rushes through me, flooding every single nerve ending as he runs it in a line from my ass to my clit.
Then he closes his lips around my clit, starts to suck, and my eyes roll into the back of my head.
My hands fist in his hair as he feasts on me. His large hands push my thighs further and my hips roll into his mouth. Fire dances through my core, chasing away the cold that had seeped into my bones.
The first finger sends me yelping in surprise. The second has me screaming in pleasure. And by the time his hand starts to move between my legs, I’m choking on my words and become incapable of human speech.
“You’re so fucking wet, Bella,” he growls with each swirl of his tongue and every push of his fingers. “So fucking sweet.”
The sound fills the air, and a new pressure fills my body from his hands and mouth. The fire continues to spread—up my arms, down my legs, culminating in the tips of my fingers and toes before doubling back and rushing straight into my pounding heart.
“Oh…” I moan as my fingers tighten in his hair and my legs tremble under his touch. “Oh God! Oh yes! YES! YES!”
The orgasm burns away all thought from my mind. A shudder flutters deep inside of me, and suddenly I’m rising up off the floor, screaming.
And when I come down, my body puddles while my heart continues to race.
That’s when Slava draws back to his height, and I look down to see his cock jutting up between my legs. A drop of pearly precum dots the tip, and the red tip flexes just enough to let it drip onto my fevered skin.
When it does, I swear I can hear it sizzle.
We stare at each other, motionless.
Months. The hallway, the balcony, the shower, the jet, every loaded silence and near-miss and moment of denied want. All of it converges here, in this hunting lodge, and by this fire.
