“How about this,” he suggests, his eyes twinkling with affection. “I grab a quick shower at your place, then I sleep in your bed and hold you until you drift off. No funny business, I promise. Sound good?”
The thought chases away some of the anxiety that’s been gnawing at me. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”
Besides the no funny business part.
I haven’t stopped thinking about us in the cramped back seat of the Tesla, and I can’t wait to find out what having Misha in a bed would be like.
Back at my apartment, he showers while I get a drink of water, trying not to think too much about the gorgeous man currently naked in my bathroom. When he comes out, hair damp and tousled, and with just a towel slung low on his hips, the only thing I can manage is to stare.
Goddamn.
He steps up to me and pushes my chin up to make me look at him. “Your turn,” he whispers before leaning in for a quick peck. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I stumble into the bathroom and take the quickest shower in the history of showers, only to come out and realize I don’t have anything to wear with me in here. So I wrap a towel around myself and walk into the dimly lit bedroom, only to find Misha’s bitable, naked ass hanging out of the covers, and he’s breathing deeply already.
Of course,nowhe’s able to sleep.
Pulling off my glasses and putting them on my nightstand, I decide that since he’s naked, too, pajamas are an unnecessary barrier between us and opt instead to slide into bed as I am, my skin eager for the contact. I nestle back against him, my back to his, and sleep begins to beckon me. Yet, as I drift on the edge of consciousness, Misha turns, his arms encircling me.
“I promised I would be holding you,” he murmurs, a low rumble that stirs something deep within me.
His fingers dance across my arm until they brush the bareness of my breasts, and he freezes, his breath catching. “Fuck, Bug,” he whispers, the word more of a reverent sigh than a curse. “I don’t have any fresh clothes here. What’s your excuse?” In a swift, fluid motion, he pulls me close, his chest a solid wall against my back. “God, you feel so good,” he confesses,his lips brushing my ear, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine. “I love it when there’s not an inch of space between us.”
My head whirls from him, and I love it.
His kisses on my shoulder are tender yet ignite a fire within me when he urges, “Try to turn off your smart, pretty head and sleep.”
No, I don’t want to sleep now.
“Say something nice. I just want to hear you talk.”
He’s always been so skilled with words, and right now, I’m craving the comfort they bring.I need some new ones to obsess over in my head.
“I thought I just did.” He chuckles, the sound a vibration that resonates through both of us.
“More, please,” I insist, unable to mask the neediness in my voice.
He promised he’d be whatever I needed. And right now, I need him to be everything tender and kind and cut through the noise of my fears and wrap me in his words.
“You’re kind and generous. You put people before yourself. Every day, you do a million nice things that make me admire you more and more. The way you were ready to sacrifice everything for your brother. I can’t imagine being so selfless. And I’m so grateful for you.”
His hand roams my body, a possessive caress that leaves a trail of heat in its wake. “Speaking of things I’m grateful for…God, your body. I can’t fucking get close enough.” He punctuates his words by nuzzling into my neck, his breath a scorching brand against my skin. “And let’s not forget how brilliant you are. It’s like you’ve got that magical mix of intelligence and charm that just drives me wild. You’re just… amazing.” He breathes out a laugh. “Mmm. I’m a big fucking fan.”
“I’m a big fan of yours, too,” I whisper, squeezing his forearm.
“I’m glad. Now I’m going to hold you, and you can stay in my arms and relax a little, okay? I’ve got you.” Despite his words, the hardness of his arousal presses against me.
“What’s that?” I tease, pressing back against him.
He groans a sound that’s equal parts frustration and arousal. “You know what that is. I can’t help it when you’re lying naked in my arms. But I told you, no funny business.”
Defiantly, I reach back and encircle his cock, my fingers exploring the firm length of him.
He’s deliciously long.
“You’re so fucking naughty.” He gasps, his hips thrusting reflexively into my hand. “What fucking time is it?” Misha tries to crane his neck to see the clock, but when I tighten my grip and stroke him with more purpose, he lets his head fall back with a moan of surrender. “God, that feels so good… you’re a little temptress, aren’t you?”
His hand covers mine, guiding my movements, his breathing growing more erratic with each stroke. “Give me a kiss while you do that,” he commands in a guttural whisper. I turn to face him, making it easier for our lips to meet in a fervent clash. “My naughty girl,” he breathes out, his words punctuated by the rhythm of my strokes. “Fuck, yes, just like that… give me your other hand.”
