Chapter 22
Stefan finished pulling my jeans off, leaving me in my lacy thong underwear, and then tugged off the sweater that had been covering my face and my skimpy bra. Even though my body didn’t want him to stop, I knew as I lay there panting that I had to stop this before it went too far—and I was too mindless with pleasure to get the answers I needed. We’d gone down this path far too often. It had taken my husband no time at all to figure out that all he had to do to stop me from asking dangerous questions and pushing him for information was to kiss me until I swooned and then carry me off to bed.
But this contact with Irina had changed everything. Whatever was going on, it was clearly much more complicated than I had initially realized. And I couldn’t let Stefan keep me in the dark any longer. This was mylife. This was our life.
It wasn’t just about KZM and these women and what the extent of my husband’s involvement with both of those things were. I needed to know if I could trust him. If he really was a good man. The ambiguity was just too much.
So as much as I wanted to give in to him, as much as I reveled in the thought of total surrender, I pulled my wrists from his grasp, put a hand on his chest, and said, “Wait.”
He pulled back immediately. I was still pinned beneath him, and he was still in control. But he cared about me, too. This wasn’t just about what he wanted in the heat of the moment.
“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”
I shook my head no, and he gently cupped my cheek.
“I just…I need some answers first,” I told him, even as my hips arched up against him.
He climbed off me and I felt my heart sink. I scrambled to my knees and grabbed his shirt, pulling him back before he could get off the bed.
“Give me something, Stefan,” I begged him. “I’ve given myself to you over and over. Please, just…” I struggled to find the words. “Give me something I can hold onto in return.”
He looked at me, and I saw the conflict warring in his eyes. And then his features softened in a way I’d never seen before. His hand came up to cup my face again, his thumb stroking my cheek so gently it made me shiver.
“Hold onto this, Tori,” he said.
Then he leaned down and kissed me. Once, twice, three times, so soft it made my chest ache, the touch of his lips against mine more tender than it had ever been.
I let out a shuddering breath and our eyes locked.
“Stefan,” I whispered. “I—”
He swept his lips over my own, this kiss more passionate, and when I opened my mouth to let him in deeper his tongue stroked perfectly against mine, the taste of him like a drug I couldn’t get enough of. He had never kissed me so tenderly, had never touched me like this before—like he was trying to hold onto me. His hand moved from my cheek to the back of my head, his fingers weaving into my hair, forcing my head back so I could take more of his tongue. He was taking his time, drawing quiet moans out of me, making the whole world disappear. It was as if he was kissing the very essence of my soul.
I curled my hands tightly into his shirt, pulling him closer. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. I couldn’t believe he could be this way with me. Already, I felt closer to him. I never wanted him to stop touching me.
Slowly, languidly, he slid his hands down my back, then around my waist, up toward my breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands. He palmed them gently before circling my nipples with his thumbs, teasing them until they were hard and aching. Then he lowered his head and took one into his mouth. The sensations were overwhelming. I could feel myself shivering. He dragged his teeth along the hard ridge of one nipple and then the other, lavishing them with a focused intensity that had me panting. As he sucked one nipple, his fingers would tweak and twist the other. The combination of pleasure and just the right amount of pain had my hips arching off the bed, the rest of my body begging for the same attention.
I was wet and aching for him, desperate for his touch, for his cock, but he seemed to be in no rush. He was going to take his time with me tonight and there was nothing I could do about it.
Finally, his hands slid down my hips, finding my thong. Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband and my whole body tensed with anticipation, expecting him to revert to his usual routine—driven by rough, pure, animal lust—and rip it right off of me.
But he hesitated. I was confused for a split second until the realization dawned on me that what was happening between us now was different than it had ever been.
My pulse quickened as Stefan slid my panties off slowly, carefully, delicately. I arched my back and closed my eyes, savoring it. He was doing exactly what he had said—giving me something to hold on to. Something to trust.
I felt his passion, his desire, his care with every kiss, every touch, every stroke.
I loved that he was still fully dressed, except for his bare feet. He leaned over me, gripping my hips with his warm, strong hands, and dragging me forward so my ass was right at the edge of the bed. Then he spread my legs wide, opening me up. I could feel how hot and wet I was in the cool air of our bedroom. I was ready. I wanted his cock inside of me. I wanted him to take me fast and hard, but instead he pushed my knees wider and pressed hot, burning kisses along the insides of my ankles before moving up my calves, then over my knees, slowly but deliberately trailing closer and closer toward my pussy.
I was gasping for air, my breaths turning short and shallow. He didn’t quicken his pace.
The tension was so much that when he finally kissed the soft skin on my inner thigh, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was so eager for his mouth. For his tongue.
“More,” I begged him, feeling weak with desire. “Please.”
He gave my inner thigh a nip with his teeth, enough to make me cry out with the shock of it, and then he plunged his tongue into my pussy. I sighed with the pleasure of it, the way his tongue filled me, and then he pulled back.
“Don’t stop,” I said. “You’re teasing me.”
