A lingering silence lasted for one heartbeat, two, and then Anastasia crossed the distance between them.
She flung herself against him, her hands tangling themselves in his hair as she pulled him down to her level. She paused for only a moment to take in his face before leaning in to kiss him.
Mikhail made a satisfied noise against her lips before threading his arms around her waist and picking her up.
Anastasia wrapped her legs around his waist as their embrace became desperate, their passions fed by everything that had gone unspoken between them and adrenaline coursing through their veins. Anastasia couldn’t stop running her hands over him, tracing his arms and his shoulders.
She let out a squeak of surprise when her back hit the wall, Mikhail pressing his body up against hers until all she felt was his heat against her.
Taking advantage of her open mouth, his warm tongue slipped against Anastasia’s, deepening their embrace.
She tossed her head back, gasping for air, as Mikhail began trailing kisses down her neck. He held her up against the wall with one arm while the other began rifling blindly for the edge of her skirts.
“Christ,” he grunted, finally gripping the edge of her hems and ripping. Anastasia laughed — a sound that made Mikhail look up and grin. His hand slid through the fabric until he met her calf, slowly moving upward.
Anastasia leaned forward in his grip and captured his mouth again, her hands tugging on his hair like she was trying to close the nonexistent space between them, relishing in the rasp of his stubble against her skin.
Mikhail’s hands moved at a glacial pace, leaving trails of goosebumps all over Anastasia’s skin. He made his way up her leg, stroking her calves, up her thighs, until his fingers traced over her hip, narrowly avoiding where she needed him most.
She made a small cry of displeasure, bucking her hips against him. He only chuckled, pulling back and giving her lip a bite.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, “Don’t be greedy,Anya.Take what I give you.”
“Give memore.”There was no venom in her tone, only desperation that sent a hot line of fire down Mikhail’s spine. He grasped her waist tighter as she moved her hips, sliding herself over his cock in painfully slow strokes.
“Ohb’lyad,” he hissed, dropping his head down so their foreheads were touching, “You keep doing that, and this isn’t going to last very long.”
Anastasia only let out a little laugh in response, slowing her hips. Mikhail’s hand traced back down her thigh until he cupped her sex, teasing a shattered moan from between Anastasia’s lips.
“You really do need me to touch you, don’t you?”Mikhail chuckled, making Anastasia’s eyes nearly roll back into her head. “You’re drenched for me,malyshka…”
Mikhail gently rolled her clit between his fingers, pulling back to watch Anastasia’s face, her breath breaking down into shallow gasps. She was practically dripping down his hand when he pulled her tighter and slipped his fingers inside her slowly.
“Mikhail,” Anastasia’s voice was a breathy whine, “Please…”
He only chuckled in response, leaning in to bite her ear. “Say it again. Let me hear you say it.” Anastasia knew precisely what he meant.
“I love you, Mikhail,” she moaned, her whole body feeling like a live wire. Mikhail’s impossibly large frame was pressed against her in a million ways except for the one sheneeded.
“God,” he grunted, easily slipping another finger into her and beginning to curl them with a simple motion. Anastasia was unleashed, riding his fingers while they remained pinned against the wall. Her hand flew down to Mikhail’s wrist, and she stopped him, shaking her head.
“No, no, I want more — I want all of you.Now.”Mikhail grunted in response, gently pulling his hand from underneath her skirts and wrapping both of his arms around her waist. They stumbled into her bedroom, and Mikhail dropped Anastasia on the bed.
She ogled shamelessly as she maneuvered back against the headboard, her tongue running over her lip while Mikhail undressed at the foot of the bed.
He tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, and Anastasia moaned quietly at the sight of his body, his muscles still tense and his skin damp with sweat. He chuckled — a dark, purely masculine sound — as he leaned down and stepped out of his pants. Anastasia squirmed on the bed at the sight of his cock, desperate to feel him inside of her.
Mikhail reached over and ripped the rest of her torn dress off, leaving her in a corset. Anastasia leaned forward, her breasts nearly spilling out of the top, as she unlaced the back with feverish fingers. Mikhail climbed up on the bed, grabbing hold of the offending garment and tossing it to the side.
As soon as it was gone, Anastasia froze.
“Anya, what’s wrong?” Mikhail leaned away from her, wanting to give her space at that moment if she was unsure.
“I… my… my scars,” she said quietly, crossing her arms across her chest. Mikhail looked at her, stripped and vulnerable, and knew how difficult that was for her. He nodded softly, holding out his hand to her. When she slid her palm in his, he grinned, stroking his thumb over the scars on her knuckles.
“They’re beautiful, Anya,” his voice was slow and soothing, as he nodded as he placed her own scarred hand over the scars lacing his torso. “So are mine. So are yours. I promise.”
Anastasia nodded, a soft smile spreading over her face. She leaned back on the bed, stretching out her legs, so Mikhail was kneeling between them.
