“You’re a good man, Kirill Marinov.”
The sound that leaves him is low and rough, almost a growl, before his mouth crashes down on mine. One hand grips my hip while the other slides under me, yanking me closer until there isn’t even the smallest space left between us.
He tilts my head back the way he wants it, guiding the kiss without asking. His grip tightens as he deepens it, holding me there while it grows hotter, more demanding, like there’s something inside him he can’t put into words any other way.
My fingers slide into his hair, and he responds instantly, a deep rumble vibrating through him as I meet his kiss with the same fierce hunger.
He pulls back, breathing hard against my lips, his forehead resting against mine. But the pause lasts only a second before he drags me back into the kiss, harder this time.
There’s something different about it now. Something deeper than the ones we shared before. Like everything he just told me, every dark piece of his past, has fused us together in a way neither of us can undo.
He reaches down and pushes his boxers off, lifting my nightgown over my hips before leaning back and staring at me with something almost conflicted in his eyes.
“Forgive me,” he says.
Before I can ask what he means, he drives into me hard enough that it stings, his hand tightening in my hair as his fierce gaze fixes on me.
“I need you.”
The beastly hunger on his face makes me want to give him everything he’s been denied for so long.
“I’m yours.”
“That’s right, you are.”
He tosses my leg over his shoulder, circling his hips, giving it to me so deep, I’m already close. He rises to his knees, gripping my hips and lifting me with him until my back arches off the mattress. The rhythm turns relentless, powerful, like he needs this—needs me—to outrun whatever ghosts still cling to him.
“Oh God,” I gasp.
But he doesn’t slow. If anything, he pushes harder, each thrust knocking the breath from my chest until words are impossible and all that escapes me is broken cries, my body clenching around him as the need builds faster than I can hold it back.
“Moya. Svegda, moya,” he grunts, staring right into my eyes.
When he hits that spot inside me, the tension snaps. The orgasm tears through me in a wild rush, sending me tumbling over the edge like there’s no end to the fall.
“Yes…don’t stop!”
His hands clamp around my hips as he moves with fierce intensity before a brutal growl rips from him and he comes inside me, spilling into me, giving me what I want.
When it’s over, he presses a kiss to my shoulder before dropping back beside me with a quiet chuckle. “I meant to take that slow.”
“Liar.”
He groans and pulls me across his chest. “Thank you.”
I’m not even sure what he’s thanking me for, but it doesn’t really matter.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
He reaches over and switches off the light. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
KIRILL
As we pullup to the ranch the next morning, I glance over at Sloane, remembering last night. How much I told her, how good it felt to finally say it out loud, and how hard I took her after.
Selfish, maybe. I should probably regret it. But I don’t. Because I know she liked it just as much.
