Dimitri glanced over at her. The freeway lights skittered over Natasha’s face, casting her in bands of light and shadow. She looked as mysterious as ever, but there was a tiny crease between her brows.

At his question, she cut her eyes over to him and gave him a slow, sexy smile. “How lucky you’re going to get when we’re home.”

Leather creaked as his fingers tightened on the wheel. The speedometer ticked past eighty.

Home.

It meant everything that she’d think of his house as home. If she felt comfortable enough, maybe she’d stay.

It had been bad enough after Nik left. The quiet, the emptiness, the loneliness. If he were being honest with himself, it had been part of what prompted him to invite Natasha to stay in the first place. He’d jumped at the chance to have another person sharing his space. The house was too big for just him.

But if Natasha left? There would be no replacing her. Her sweet, sassy presence filled his home to every corner, making it feel lived in, used, and loved. She brought new scents to his kitchen, new music, and the sound of conversation and laughter. She gave him a reason to dance in his own house, something he’d always meant to do, but never done.

He didn’t want her to leave. He—and his home—needed her to feel whole.

But she was still looking up apartments, still set on moving out before the next season started filming in a few weeks.

“How turned on were you tonight?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “At the show.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.” He shot her a heated look. “Can you dance like that?”

“Burlesque?”

“Yeah.”

“Macho, are you asking if I’ll do a striptease for you?” She flashed him a wicked grin.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I will.” Her lips curled, and she got a calculating look on her face. “For you, I will.”

That was better than the “maybe” she’d given him about the pole.

When he pulled into the garage, he rounded the hood to open the door for her and help her out. She stepped close to him and put her hands on his cheeks. Her eyes were dark and hot, her smile tempting beyond belief. When she pulled him down to kiss her, he would have given her the world.

His hands settled on her waist, and she kept it light and soft. Just the warm press of lips and the tease of tongue. When they broke apart, she whispered against his mouth, “Take me inside and make love to me.”

He stroked her cheek, and because he was a dick, asked, “What about your rule?”

She kissed him again, harder this time. “Fuck the rules. Carry me to bed, Macho.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, even though she just had. He hooked his hands under her thighs, boosting her up so she could lock her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders.

She laughed as he stopped to punch in the security code, keeping one hand under her ass. Once they were in the bedroom, he put the lights on low and gently set her on the edge of the bed.

She turned her back to him. “Unzip me?”

He sat beside her, skimming his hands up her bare arms. Her skin was cool. Smooth. Soft despite the strength of her dancer’s body, full of grace. He ran a finger down the elegant column of her neck, down the center of her back, tracing over the bumps of her spine. The buzz of the zipper parting fueled the tension of the moment. Goosebumps rose on her back, and when he touched his lips to her shoulder, she shivered.

“Cold?”

“No.” Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. “I just want you.”

He turned her toward him and kissed her like they had all the time in the world. Just kissed her, just his lips exploring and cherishing every centimeter of hers, just hints of tongue and the light press of teeth. When she tried to speed the intensity, pressing closer and sucking on his lower lip, he only caressed her body in soothing, languid strokes.

When her eyes were clouded with passion and her lips wet and swollen from his attention, he pulled back.

“You’ve never said you wanted me before.”

She pressed her face into his neck, as if hiding her expression. “I would think it was obvious.”

He shook his head, craning his neck to look into her face. “It was obvious that I wanted you. Not the other way around.”

She bit her lip and toyed with his shirt buttons. He waited, heart on the line, his mind running through all her possible responses.

Finally, she looked him square in the eye. Her eyebrows tilted like she was scared, but her voice was firm. “I want you, Dimitri. Always. It’s why I’ve always said yes.”

His chest swelled. Every time he’d reached out to her, it had been with his heart in his throat, wondering if she would come, worried she wouldn’t. Ever since that first time.

Come over tonight.

Yes.

And every time since, he’d been the one to initiate, putting the ball in her court. It was why he’d driven over when her apartment was falling apart. Not only had he been worried, because she sounded distressed, but she’d also never told him no. He’d gone there prepared to . . . not beg, but . . . well, maybe beg. To find out why, at least.

Her “no” had scared him. It meant he was going to have to say more, do more. Reveal more. And so far, he hadn’t been willing to do that, not until he was sure she was also emotionally invested. The only thing that had kept him going through this whole stupid no-strings arrangement was that when he needed her, when he couldn’t be without her for another second, she was there. It was the worst kind of security, but better than nothing.

Her reliable yeses kept them going in this pattern. She’d never given any indication she wanted or needed more. Maybe it was cowardly not to offer, but what if he offered and was refused? Sure, she’d moved in, but only out of desperation and a lack of other options. Not out of any obvious emotional investment. Even now, she admitted she wanted him, but he didn’t know why. And he needed to know why.

But not tonight. Tonight was about her, about showing her she deserved to be loved. She hadn’t rejected his declaration. She just didn’t believe him. That, he could fix. And she had initiated this. That counted for something.

He kissed her again. Deeper this time, but still slow. His hands roamed her body, sliding down her arms, up her legs, and finally thrusting into her hair. “What do you want, Tasha? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Get undressed.” Her hands made quick work of his buttons. “I want to touch you.”

“I can do that.” While he shucked off his pants and boxers, she shimmied out of her dress. Clad only in a lacy black-and-red bra and thong combo, she straddled his thighs, cool fingers roaming over his chest.

He leaned back on his hands, sucking in a breath as his cock rubbed against her leg. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Inmensamente.” She caressed his arms, and he flexed, just because he could.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

“God, yes.”

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her and palming her butt. The skinny frill framing the globes of her ass teased his fingertips and drove him crazy. “You always wear the sexiest lingerie.” He breathed the words into her neck, his lips trailing along her collarbone and down, where he pressed a kiss into her cleavage. “Is it for me?”

“No.” When he lifted his head, she grinned and struck a pose, throwing her arms out and pushing her tits up. “It’s for me.”

He groaned and filled his hands with her breasts. “That’s even sexier.”

“Just wait until I take it off.” With a saucy wink, she settled back on his lap.

Eyes on his, she undulated her spine, rolling her shoulders and reaching up to slide one skinny bra strap down. When she pulled her arm free, she waved it seductively in the air before bringing it to her other shoulder. She pinched the other strap between thumb and index finger, and when he thought she’d pull it down, she instead leaned forward and shook her tits at him.

The surprise of it made him blink, but it was her sexy little smile that had his cock straining between them. Groaning, he dug his fingers into her hips. She had the tease part of striptease mastered. “You’re killing me, Kroshka.”

She didn’t answer. Arching her back, she writhed on his lap, trusting him to keep her anchored. Flipping her hair, she somehow got her other arm free. Now she cupped her breasts in her own hands, kneading them as she pursed her lips and blew him a kiss.

“Ah, fuck.” Wrapping one arm around her hips to keep her steady, he reached between them and took hold of his dick, giving it a few pumps of his hand before squeezing the base. “You’re so hot. So fucking hot.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” She rolled her hips, bringing her warm cleft closer to his cock. She’d always been playful in the bedroom, but now, he could see she’d still been reserved. This Natasha, who taunted and teased, flirted and played, was the real her. She wasn’t holding back anymore.

If he hadn’t already been in love with her, he would have fallen then and there.

When she held her bra with one hand and reached behind herself to unhook it with the other, he pulled the fabric of her panties aside, sliding his fingers through her folds.

She hissed on an intake of breath, even as she kept the striptease going, writhing sinuously on his lap. “Yes, Macho, yes. Touch me.”

“Anything you want.” Her beautiful face, transformed by passion, drew his attention even as her breasts were bared centimeter by centimeter. Then her fingers flexed, plumping her soft flesh, and his eyes were glued to her movements. Bit by bit, her bra shivered down, closer to revealing her nipples. He parted his lips, ready to swoop in and capture one, when she whipped off the bra and covered herself with her arm. He groaned in disappointment.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

She laughed out loud and dropped her arm, baring herself to him. “That’s the point.”

“Speaking of points.” He closed his lips around one of her dark nipples, rolling it with his tongue, and rubbed his thumb over her clit.

She clung to his shoulders, sighing. He tumbled them both onto the bed, worshipping her body with his hands and mouth. She tried to rush, pulling at him and whimpering, but he resisted.

“Shh. Ne speshi, Tasha. Slow down.” Tonight, he would take his time, and by the end of it, she would know how special she was.

She whimpered and pulled at her shoulders. “Dimitri . . .” Her voice held a note of pleading.

“Tell me what you want.”

She panted and twisted her hands in the bedsheets. “Why do you keep asking me?”

“Because this is all for you.” He kissed a line up the inside of her leg, adoring the strength of her in the tension of her skin. “You’re a goddess. You deserve to be cherished, and given all you desire.”

She pressed a hand to her cheek and looked away. Amazing that sweet words embarrassed her more than anything else they did together in this bed.

“I’m just a regular woman, Dimitri. Not a goddess.”

“To me, you are. It’s about time I started treating you how you deserve.”

“Don’t be too good to me, or I’ll get used to it.” Her voice was soft, and shy. Wistful.

“I want you to get used to it. Now, tell me what you want.”

She swallowed, and it took her a few moments to speak. “Hold me close.”

“I can do that.” Crawling up over her body, he settled next to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Like this?”

“Sí.” She snuggled against him, tucking her head under his chin. “Today was kind of an emotional roller coaster.”

He nodded, rubbing his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of figs. For him, too.

She raised her chin toward him. “Kiss me?”

“Of course.” He pressed his lips to hers, sweeping her tongue into a dance. Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. His cock pulsed against her firm belly, but the sweetness of her mouth and the little noises she made as she squirmed against him were all he needed.

He broke the kiss to whisper against her lips, “What do you want, Tasha?”

In answer, she took his hand and brought it between her legs. He stroked her in a slow, steady rhythm until she was gasping and quivering with need.

Again, he asked, “What do you want?”

And when she answered, “Your mouth,” he shifted down and tongued her clit until she was sobbing.

When he asked her again, she surprised him.

“Be with me.”

It was all he wanted, too. Heart aching, he slipped on one of the condoms he kept in the nightstand, and covered her with his body. Now, more than ever, he wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to say it again and hear her response, begging her to accept him and love him back.

But tonight was about her. He knew he loved her. She didn’t. So, he had to show her.

Pushing between her thighs, he pressed against her entrance. She was open so, so soft.

“What do you want?” This was the last time he’d ask.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she met his gaze. “You.”

“Moe serdtse prinadlezhit tebe.” He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to say anything as he slid inside her, but the words slipped out. They came from the truest part of him, and he wouldn’t take them back.

She whispered his name, and something shifted in him and settled into place. His heart pounded, and the word flitting through his thoughts was home.

Home. The scent of figs and ginger. High, surprised laughter, and the snap of temper in Spanish. Warmth in his bed, tangling with long legs and arms.

He hitched her uninjured leg over his hip and rolled onto his side, taking her with him, keeping himself lodged within her. With his eyes on hers, their heavy breaths mingling, he set the pace. Slow and steady, deep and close. Their eyes locked, and he read her pleasure there, and something else. Something in the way she clung to him, in her voice when she’d said, “You.” They’d been like this so many times before, yet this time was unlike any other.

Open. She was open, hiding nothing. Her heart was in her eyes. Maybe it always had been.

She held onto him, pumping her hips to the rhythm he set. Every time they danced, every time they fucked, she followed his lead. Whatever he wanted, she gave, without question or hesitation.

Maybe that was the sign. Maybe he’d been blind to it all along, taking her silence and reservation for disinterest, when really, she was protecting her own heart.

Did it matter that she’d never made the first move? That she never asked for more?

Why should she have? It should have been on him to willingly give it. That first day, in the rehearsal room, he should have fallen at her feet and offered her everything he was, everything he had to give.

He’d been too scared to take the risk. Too uncertain of her. But this was a woman who’d never known deep love. Of course she hid her heart.

And still, she’d given him what he asked. Every time. He’d just never asked for more, because he was the one holding back.

Where else was he doing that?

Gritting his teeth, he increased the pace of his thrusts. “I’m sorry, Kroshka.”

Her eyes crossed and she dug her nails into his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should’ve been better.” He slipped his hand around her leg to rub her clit. “You deserved better.”

She let out a high moan. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. From now on.” He captured her mouth as he pumped into her with shallow thrusts, keeping the focus on her clit.

Her body clenched, then spasmed. Against his lips, she cried out. He held on to her, even as her pussy squeezed his dick, even as she shook and trembled. He held her, kissed her, touched her, and then it was too much.

Too much, and exactly perfect.

His own body tightened. His skin prickled in goosebumps as pleasure zinged through him. He pressed his face into her hair and pounded his hips, setting off his own orgasm.

When it was done, he was gasping. Natasha held him, rubbing his sweat-slickened back.

“What did you say?” Her voice was quiet. “Earlier.”

He didn’t lift his head, letting her hair hide his face. Like a damn coward.

“You deserve better.”

“No. Before that. In Russian.”

Oh. That. He hesitated, but why not tell her? Time to start doing better.

“My heart belongs, uh, to you.”

She was quiet for a moment. Her hands still slid lazily up and down his back. Then she scooted down and pressed her lips to his chest, right above where his heart pounded from exertion and pleasure.

He closed his eyes. How the hell had he ever found it in him to let this woman go?

One thing was for sure. He wasn’t walking away from her ever again.