“Lauren. Chyort. Fuck.” I plunged searching fingers between her thighs, anything to distract my brain from the swelling of my balls. Her pussy was soaked and all I could think was how welcoming it would be for my cock.
If she would only put on the condom … hurry … please … finally she rolled it on, and I couldn’t wait a moment longer. I buried my body inside her.
I groaned as her slick heat wrapped me tight, pulling me so deep I could stay here forever. With each thrust, I tried my best to imprint on her the depth of my feelings, the words I couldn’t say all those years ago. The words I still couldn’t say aloud.
This is us, Lauren.
How it was meant to be.
How it will always be.
I grasped her hand, interlocked my fingers with hers, and held tight. With my free hand I pushed her thigh up. She moaned her pleasure, deep, resonant. I had never forgotten how noisy she was. Lusty and uninhibited. I loved that this one thing about her was the same when everything else was so different. Our bodies had aged but the desire was as potent as ever. I had more stamina than my twenty-one-year-old self, that was for sure.
But not much. I was close to exploding, leaving everything on the table. Not just the physical but every part of me that officially belonged to her. I had held on to pieces of me for so long, an effort to shore up my defenses, but it was all on display.
It was hers to own.
“Lauren,” I moaned, just as I thrust hard and hit the spot that lit her up. Her scream when she came reverberated through every cell, triggering my own release.
And you bet I stayed there as long as I could. Because I had no doubt she’d be kicking me out of her body as soon as she came to her senses.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lauren
* * *
What the hell was I doing? Was I so desperate for affection that I would turn to the worst possible person for me?
So sex with someone who knew what they were doing was never a bad thing. But this was not what I needed after ending things with Thad so recently.
Okay, shut up. I know it was only last night.
We hadn’t even made it under the covers, but Alexei, Mr. Aftercare himself, had wrapped the top sheet around me as soon as he slipped out of my body to take care of the condom. Now those Arctic blues gazed at me, urging me to give up. Give in.
Never.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I blurted.
“Okay.” He sounded amused.
“The divorce is still happening. I’m an agent, you’re a player, not to mention all the other stuff. Too messy.”
“Okay.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I am acknowledging what you said.”
“You’re not taking me seriously.” I sat up and reached for my hoodie.
“I take you very seriously. I always have.”
Sure. “There’s obviously history between us, reasons to get it out of our systems, but we’re no longer a thing.”
“I don’t need to get you out of my system. I am happy to have you in there, running roughshod through my veins, the energy that fuels me.”
I stared at him, waiting for the smirk. The punchline never came. Damn this oh-so-serious Russian!
