I nod. It’s the truth.
“Good.”
“Wh… Why?”
He plunges himself back inside of me again, hips moving in circular motions so that he can massage my sweet spot.
I scream out, the room fading away into darkness, making me forget everything. His breathing accelerates. I feel him twitch inside of me, his moans scratching at the back of his throat. He’s getting close. Which is good because so am I.
So, he slows down the pace. “I wish I could stay inside of you forever.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Me too.”
He grimaces, revealing prominent canine teeth. He’s holding on, further slowing his thrusts to lengthen this out for as long as possible.
“Come inside me,” I say, my head laid back into the pillow. I look up at him, begging. “Please… I want to… feel you… release inside of me.”
That does it for him. He quickens his pace, sending jolts of pleasure through me with each hard thrust. His dick twitches,his muscles tense, and hot liquid starts hitting my walls. He groans, letting himself go.
It makes me do the same.
My walls contract around his dick, my gasps becoming heavier as I brace myself to experience heaven. I shut my eyelids as pleasure unwinds through my body, rippling and filling every single cell. Stars explode at the edge of my vision, sending me into a freefall of pure sensation.
My orgasm is earth-shattering.
I don’t know how much time passes before my thighs stop shaking and he clambers off me, collapsing on the mattress next to me.
Still working to catch my breath, I turn, watching his expression. He stares at the ceiling absentmindedly. There’s something on his mind this evening. Something different about him. He neverasked if I trust him before. Never said that he wishes he could stay inside of me forever.
I frown and turn to stare at the ceiling with him, trying to read his thoughts. Timur must have told him something important—it’s the only explanation I can think of. Whatever is weighing on him, he looks like a man preparing to march into battle.
Like these moments are one last quiet before a storm.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lauren
I arrive at work with a coffee in my hand and unwavering anxiety in my stomach.
Last week’s attack has taught me to look over my shoulder at every given moment, to check the shadows and to make sure nobody is lurking between vehicles.
Knowing that my father is upstairs is only making matters worse.
I take the elevator up, flash Melissa my best smile, and lock myself into my office, setting the coffee down. I never used to be a black Americano woman, but Nikolai has swayed me.
He told me this morning that even though he has his eye on me, I still need to be extra cautious, wary of where I go. For once, I’m not taking his warning lightly. I parked my car in a different parking lot today that is on a busier street, and decided to wear ballet flats instead of six-inch heels—much to my chagrin—because they’re silent when I walk in them.
The door lock clicks and someone pushes down the handle.
Something prickles at my skin.
I look up from my desk and the first thing I see is my father’s cold eyes planted on me.
Shit.
My instinctive reaction is to seize up, but I force myself to relax. To remain composed and keep my shoulders down. The last thing I want to do is make him even more suspicious of me than he already is. I didn’t particularly want to come to the office today and force myself to engage in conversation with him, butNikolai suggested that it was best to go about my life as usual, to eradicate any suspicions.
