I’m on my feet before I consciously decide to move, the years of conditioning taking over. My hand goes to the side of the bed, fingers curling around the edge as I sit up, listening. My gun is in my holster on the chair. I can get to it in three seconds if I need to.
Then I hear her voice.
“Andrei?”
It’s barely more than a whisper.
I close my eyes briefly and exhale through my nose, the tension shifting but not leaving. I get up and step into the doorway where she lingers uncertainly.
She’s wrapped in the blanket, hair loose now, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. The sweats hang off her frame, sleeves pushed up over her hands. Her eyes are wide and unfocused, dark with exhaustion and something else that tightens low in my chest.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says quickly. “I just woke up, and I was too scared to go back to sleep.”
“Take the bed,” I say, keeping my voice low. “It’s much more comfortable, you’ll probably be able to sleep better.”
She nods, but doesn’t move.
“Would you stay with me?” she asks in a small, broken voice. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Her voice hitches on the last word, and that does it. I step forward before I can stop myself, closing the distance between us. I pull her into my arms, feeling just how small and fragile she is.
“Of course,” I say quietly. “I promised I’d keep you safe.”
She looks up at me, searching my face like she’s trying to anchor herself to something solid.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and my eyes are immediately drawn to that perfect mouth.
I should tell her I’ve changed my mind. I should tuck her into bed and the lock the door behind me so I can’t get to her even if I want to. I should go sleep on that old couch and leave her alone.
Instead, I feel her reach for me. Her fingers grab onto the fabric of my shirt and she pulls me in closer. In an instant, everyrational and reasonable thought in my brain disappears. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing gently along her jaw.
I lean down and kiss her, feeling the tension in her body as she reaches up to kiss me back. There’s no restraint this time, no hesitation. We are both exhausted and crazed, and this is the only thing in the world that makes any sense.
Her mouth is so soft and delicate, her kisses too light for me. I realize it’s the angle, and grab her ass, pulling her up so we’re at the same level. Her legs instinctively wrap around my hips and the blanket falls into a puddle on the ground.
I carry her to the bed, kicking the door shut behind me. She lets out a small sigh as I gently lay her down, never once breaking the kiss.
I try to pull away, just for a second, just to get a breath, but her fingers have a vise grip against my neck. She doesn’t want me to leave.
My erection is already so evident and I feel her grind against it.
“Alina,” I murmur. “You don’t have to do this.”
She shakes her head, her breath warm against my mouth. “I need to,” she gasps. “I need you.”
Who am I to deny her what she needs? Our hands become a tangle as we reach for each other’s clothes, discarding piece after piece of fabric until there’s nothing left between us. It’s only as I’m slipping into her, burying myself into her delicious depths, that I realize I don’t have protection. I’m too far gone for that.
She’s so hot and tight around me, but so willing to take me in. I’m not small by any stretch of the imagination, but we somehow manage to find a rhythm and an angle that work. Her breathingbecomes shallow and heady as I thrust into her, losing what little is left of my sanity with every movement.
I can’t see her well in the dark, but I can feel her. I reach out to cup her breasts, and they feel perky and smooth underneath my hands. She’s perfect. I wish I could see her. I wish I could fuck her with the lights on and drink in every inch of her skin. Yet even as I’m coming closer to my release and feeling her pussy tighten around me, I know we can’t do this again.
This is a mistake. A perfect, mind-blowingly good mistake. She fits around my body like she was made for me, and she moans with such wild abandon that I know she feels the same. And it can never, ever happen again.
So, I let myself enjoy it. I let myself feel every nerve ending. I let myself kiss her without any regard for control. I taste and touch and fuck, with no concern for what’s right. When she finally screams out my name and her body tenses with her orgasm, I let myself drink in her pleasure. I let her pull every last inch of me inside and shatter right after her, spilling myself inside of her.
Tomorrow, there may be consequences. Tonight, there’s only pleasure.
9
