She looked at him, her eyes never leaving his as she stripped off her top, a white, lacy bra underneath. Then she pushed her pants down her legs, kicked them to the side. Bridal white. Innocent white.
His.
She moved toward him, lifted her knee up and pressed it to the mattress next to his thigh. He lifted her up off the floor, bringing her close to him so that she was straddling him, his arm locked tightly around her waist.
Confession was supposed to be good for this, but the words burning in his chest didn’t feel like they would be good for either of them. And still. Time felt like a loaded gun pressed to his head, and so he needed to speak. If not now, he never would.
They were doomed either way.
“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” he growled, looking up at her. There was confidence in her eyes, but also so much… Hope. It was the hope that hurt the worst.
“No,” she whispered. “Tell me.”
“Always,” he said. “For so long. You have been mine from the moment I laid eyes on you, mine to protect. But then, that began to change. As you became a woman, I began to want you as a man. But I knew that I could never touch you. I knew that all I could ever do was protect you.”
She shook her head. “Tonight I don’t want you to protect me. I want you to corrupt me.” She pressed her thumb against his lips, traced the outline of his mouth, and he closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. “I want you to do unspeakable things to me. Things that you think might shock me, because I don’t think they will. Do you know how long I’ve fantasized about you? You don’t, do you? Oh, Andrei, I have wanted you. For so long. I have hated every woman you’ve ever taken to your bed. Even if I didn’t see them, I knew that it was happening, and I hated them, as much as I envied them. There was a woman. I met her in a bar when I was in university, and she talked about how good you were. She talked about how you ate her. God, do you know how I fantasized about that?”
He tightened his hold on her. “It won’t be like that between us.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you more. I don’t know who that woman was. I wouldn’t be able to remember her face if you tried to describe her to me. I never wanted her. I only wanted sex. But you… I want you. I’m starving for you. And I will remember this for the rest of my life.”
She reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, let it fall free, revealing her pale, glorious breasts, her peach-colored nipples, tight with desire.
He had no control left in his body. He pressed his palm between her shoulder blades, brought her toward him, as he lowered his head to feast on her body. Her curves. He sucked one nipple deep into his mouth until she cried out, then he moved to the other, his thumb teasing the first one, using all the slickness he left behind to ease the friction.
She was grinding her hips against him, against his hardness, and it was all he could do not to free himself then and there. But if he did that, it would be over too quickly. And he wanted to savor this.
Because she was perfect. And tonight she was his. There would be nothing in the future. He would close that off ruthlessly at the bedroom door. The only thing there was, was this need between them.
This desperate, unending need that had built over a course of years. As far as the past went, those were the only memories he would allow. The memories of how much they desired each other. How much they wanted each other.
He began to unbutton his shirt, and she moved her hands, hastening the removal of his clothes. She pressed her palms against his chest, her expression one of awe. “You know how badly I wanted to do this earlier? I wanted to touch you so much.”
“Do it,” he said. “Touch me however you like. Taste me however you like.” They had all night. But it was only one night, and so it had to be everything. Every fantasy. They had to gorge themselves on it until they were sick with it. Because it was all they had, so it had to be everything.
She moved away from him, for just a moment, pushed her underwear down her hips and discarded it on the floor, naked and perfect in front of him. Her skin was pale, her curves generous, the red thatch of curls between her thighs the answer to his every prayer.
How long had he stared at all the beautiful copper curls on her head and wondered about the rest of her? For far too long.
He was seized by the same hunger that had claimed him before, and he grabbed her hips, bringing all her luscious glory toward his mouth, lifting her up off the floor and laying back on the bed, bringing her down over his face. She gasped, reaching forward and grabbing hold of the headboard as he parted her thighs ruthlessly and tasted all of her slick heat. “Andrei.”
“I will satisfy myself here,” he said against her. “And then, there will be more.”
He licked her, ate all of her sweetness, tasted her desire, his body so hard it hurt.
He moved his hands around to her glorious ass, holding her tightly against him as he ate even more deeply into her, as he felt her thighs begin to shake, as he felt her stomach contract sharply, as she cried out in sensual agony, as her release claimed her.
But he didn’t give any quarter. He didn’t stop. He kept going until she was shaking, sobbing, begging for relief. From the onslaught of pleasure that simply wouldn’t end.
He was in pain, but he gave thanks for it. If he was going to die, then this was how he wanted to do it.
It was torture he would submit himself to for all of eternity. Pleasuring her while he was left in a state of arousal that wouldn’t be satisfied.
It was his version of heaven and hell all at once.
“Please,” she whimpered, but this wasn’t just asking for him to stop. It was asking for more of him, and he could no longer resist.
