He would have slept the night there, on her porch, if she hadn’t specifically asked him to leave before she’d closed the door on him. So, after 20 minutes of warring with himself, Anton jogged back through the woods towards his parents’ house. He was considering stripping down and shifting to bear form when Emin’s voice echoed across the driveway to him.
“No, brother,” he spoke in Belarusian. “No more bear tonight. You’re coming to the bar with your brothers.”
Which is how Anton found himself squeezed into a booth with his brothers, his first beer in six weeks warming on the table in front of him.
“So,” Maxim said, deciding to jump right in. “You knocked up our little sister.”
“Jesus, Maxim. Don’t be so crude,” Danil griped, scooting Anton’s beer a little closer to him.
“No one in this bar understands Belarusian, so we might as well be clear with each other, right?”
Emin held up a hand to silence their bickering. As the only man at the table who knew what it felt like to get a woman pregnant, he felt a duty to Anton.
“You’ve loved her for a long time.”
Anton’s eyes shot up to all of his brothers, challenging them. “Da,” he agreed.
“Well, that’s not a surprise,” Danil said, sipping his beer. “You’ve been moping over her for years.”
Anton growled but he didn’t deny it.
“And she’s loved you for years,” Emin continued.
Anton looked up at him in surprise but Emin shrugged. “The two of you were the only ones who couldn’t see it. Meanwhile, to all of us,” he gestured around the table, “it was as obvious as the fact that you got her pregnant. You should have seen your face at the dinner table tonight. And then when you chased after her, well. Couldn’t have been more clear what had happened.”
“I had to get to her,” Anton scraped a hand over his shaggy hair. “I didn’t know she was pregnant until that moment.”
“So you didn’t leave because-”
“No!” Anton was shocked that Danil would even say that out loud. “Of course not. I wouldn’t knowingly get AJ pregnant and then abandon her.”
“But you would sleep with her and then abandon her,” Maxim finished, quiet, but clear.
“Protecting her and abandoning her are not the same thing.”
“Protecting her from what?” Emin asked, and then, when his eyes searched Anton’s, “From you? You left to protect her from yourself?”
“God, Anton,” Danil groaned. “This self-hate thing is getting a little stale.”
Anton leaned back in the booth, penned in by his brothers, and wanted the forest so bad he could barely breathe. He wanted the shift and the night air and the sounds of the bats through the trees.
He took a deep breath. “None of you understand. You’re not like I am. Navuka never touched you.”
“What are you saying?” Maxim asked. “That the pain they put you through made you evil? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“No.” Anton’s nostrils flared. “It’s not just the scars. The pain. Aren’t you listening? It’s what they made me into.” His voice was rising and he bit it back. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He couldn’t believe he was about to tell his brothers the truth. He’d sworn that he'd take this secret to the grave. But that was before he'd gotten the love of his life pregnant and he needed his brothers’ help on what the fuck to do about it.
“Are you saying that they turned you into something?” Emin asked slowly. “Something other than a bear shifter?”
His three brothers stared at him. And Anton felt as if their eyes were lasers, boring into him. “Yes. They made me into a weapon.” He finally took a swig of his beer; it was warm. He grimaced and traded it for Danil’s fresh, cold one. He didn’t know how important that brotherly gesture was to all three of the other men sitting around the table. How it grounded them.
“You all,” Anton gestured to them, “can shift into a bear at will, just as I could when I was born. Genetic, whatever, natural. But after my time getting experimented on with Navuka, I can also shift into something else.”
He felt his brothers go still, processing his words.
“Something I’ve never shown you, or anyone, since you rescued me from the lab in Belarus. I’ve never initiated the shift outside of the lab. But I can feel it. Inside me.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “When I’m angry or frustrated it beats a drum inside me. It wants to come out.” Now he lifted his eyes to his brothers again. “When I feel what I feel for AJ, when she was finally, for the first time, naked for me. I could feel it.”
He took another huge swallow of beer like it was medicine and dropped his eyes to the golden, effervescent liquid.
“When we fucked, I thought I held it inside me well enough. But the next morning, I realized that… I didn’t. And, I didn’t know what else to do. I left. It is too dangerous for me to be close to her in that way.”
“But you’ve slept with plenty of women since Navuka,” Maxim spoke up, confused.
“I didn’t love them. They didn’t stir me,” Anton replied. “There wasn’t the same danger with them.”
“So,” Danil grabbed his beer back and eyed his brother curiously. “What is it? The thing that you shift into?”
Anton studied his brothers then. And what he saw surprised him. There was no fear. No pity. There was a bit of sadness, yes. And curiosity.
“It is like a bear. But bigger. Angrier. There’s none of the calm that a bear has. It is only rage. There’s teeth and claws and…” Anton waved his hand through the air. “Weapons.”
Emin leaned back, ran one arm over the back of the booth. “The real question is, can you be close to AJ without fucking her?”
“What?” Anton scowled at his brother.
“Seriously,” Emin shrugged. “If you can be close to her without losing control and fucking her, then she’s safe from your beast, right? So you could still be in her life. And in your child’s life.”
The thought settled down on Anton like a cloud descending from the sky. It made him feel foggy. But lighter, somehow. He ran a hand over his tangled beard. “Well, I did it for a decade.”
“Great,” Maxim said, gesturing to the waitress for another round. “Then you make up with her and you can be her husband. Problem solved.”
“How can I be her husband if I can’t fuck her, Maxim?” The words were like stones in his belly.
“Well, did you lose control when you were doing… other stuff for her?” Danil asked.
“Excuse me.” Anton’s voice was low and threatening. He didn’t like his brothers thinking about ‘other stuff’ and AJ in the same sentence.
“He means that you can be her husband and still make her come and not turn into a monster, just as long as you don’t fuck her,” Maxim clarified.
“Yeah, I understood,” Anton snapped. He stopped, dragged a frustrated hand over his eyes. He refused to let hope light inside him for nothing. “This would be enough for you and your wives?” he challenged them.
Emin shrugged. “If it meant that I got to be with Glory, raise our child together. We’d make it enough.”
“But that’s not the real problem here.” Danil squinted at Anton. “The real problem is how the hell you’re gonna get back in her good graces. Because, brother, she looked pissed as hell.”
***
AJ silenced her phone for the ninetieth time that day. She knew that she shouldn’t be avoiding her friends’ phone calls, but she was hanging on by a thread here and she didn’t think she could handle any consolation. Not without breaking into a hundred pieces.
And she didn’t want to break into a hundred pieces. Because it wasn’t just about her anymore. She planted her hand over her stomach and took a deep breath. This was about a tiny little gumdrop who deserved a good life. The hand on her stomach travelled up to her forehead. Holy crap. She was gonna be a mom.
Yeah.
She couldn’t deal with her friends right now.
But, she couldn’t keep them guessing, either. It wasn’t fair. She opened up the group text that they shared.
Seriously, guys. I’m okay. I saw my doctor this morning and everything is looking good health-wise. And in terms of Anton, I’m taking it one hour at a time. I said he could come talk to me this afternoon. I’ll let you know how it goes after he leaves. But really, I’m fine.
Long text, but she’d wanted to cover all the bases in one go. Silencing it for good now, she tossed the phone onto the couch where she wouldn’t have to look at it for a while.
She needed a shower and a nap. And a burger. And a bowl of ice cream. But Anton was going to be here any minute, so she was just going to have to settle for the shower.
The shower did little to help with the knots of tension in her back and neck, but at least the scent of her coconut shampoo soothed her as it always did. She rubbed lotion on head to toe, but that was it. She refused to primp for this dillhole. And if she chose leggings that cupped her ass and a flowy gray sweater that happened to make her eyes pop, and he happened to suffer a little bit, well, that was his problem.
Braiding her wet hair back, she slicked on some chapstick and called it a good job. And now she needed to deal with the raging hunger in her belly. She figured she had about an hour before it switched to crippling nausea. Apparently this baby had quite the sense of humor.
AJ slammed open the fridge and found her sour, anxious mood was immediately sweetened by the presence of about eight labeled Tupperwares staring back at her. With her dad’s handwriting on them.
Sweet.
He hadn’t been a stellar dad in the years after AJ’s mom had died. But over the last year, he’d really doubled down. He was back in Spokane for good now. He’d hung up the keys to his rig, sold it in fact. And now he was working construction on the other side of town where he and Serena, Glory’s mom, were living.
Personally, AJ thought it was a little fast to move in together, but it meant that she had the house to herself again, so she didn’t mind too much.
And her dad had started doing lots of little things to make AJ’s life better. Like emptying the gutters, and fixing the broken tile in the bathroom. And dropping off food once a week. He was a damn good cook.
AJ’s stomach dropped just a little bit when she realized that her father was definitely next on the list of people to tell. Since she’d pretty much blown that news bomb wide open last night.
Dora had texted her to say that it had been pretty clear from her face and Anton’s that she was pregnant with his baby.
Ugh. Add Katya and Ilya to the list of people she needed to talk to. And what was she gonna tell them? This kid is your grandkid. But I hate your son?
AJ leaned her face against the cool edge of the fridge as the labeled Tupperware all blended together behind her swimming eyes. This was such a mess.
Her head came snapping up as she heard a knock at the door. Anton.
Gladly refueling on rage, AJ strode to the door and flung it open. “Since when do you knock?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
He was standing there, his hair just as wild as yesterday. But he was wearing… khakis. And a dark blue button-up dress shirt.
With a tie.
She’d barely gotten her eyes off of the leather dress shoes on his feet before she realized he was carrying a bouquet of daisies in his hand.
She took a step back from him.
What the fuck?
“Hello,” he said, his voice pouring over her like honey.
She found she could barely form a sentence right now. So she said the first thing that popped into her mind.
“You brought me flowers.” She squinted her eyes at him in confusion.
“Da,” he answered slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what the problem was.
“Why?” she asked, completely incredulous. Maybe she could have guessed if her brains hadn’t been wildly scrambled by the sight of Anton Malashovik dressed like he was heading into the office. Never in her life had she seen him in anything other than jeans and a raggedy shirt. Besides his brothers’ weddings, but that didn’t count. And here he was in Dockers? She shook her head as if to clear it.
He cocked his head at her, completely baffled by her incredulity. “Why?” he repeated her question. “I don’t know. World is round. Cats hate dogs. Men bring flowers.” He shoved them into her hand and crowded into her until she stepped back far enough for him to shoulder his way inside.
He tugged at the fully buttoned collar of his shirt, in such stark contrast to the tangled mess of his beard.
She closed the door behind him and turned to face him, the flowers hanging limply at her side.
“You are supposed to put those somewhere, no?” he asked, pointing at them.
“I can put them in the compost if it makes you feel better,” she replied, as sugary sweet as possible while her eyes shot daggers. She was finding her footing again. And not a moment too soon.
“Emin says they will make you softer to me. He was wrong.”
“Oh, the flowers were Emin’s idea? Well, I guess I can keep them, then.” Her tone was still sweet enough to bake a pie, but her movements were jerky as she tossed them in a blue glass vase, and filled it with water.
He forced himself not to smile at all when, unable to help herself, her anger cracked a little and she fussed with the placement of the vase on the counter. He had no trouble being sober when she faced him again, her eyes crackling with fury.
He jammed his hands in the pockets of those dumbass pants. “I know you say we only talk about baby. But I want one thing to say first.”
AJ sucked her teeth. “Fine. But I’m eating while you talk. And I can kick you out whenever I want, whether we’ve talked about the baby yet or not.”
“Okay.” He pulled out one of the bar stools at the counter for her. “Sit, then.”
He opened the fridge door, selected a Tupperware, almost at random, and dumped it into a bowl.
“That bowl isn’t microwave safe,” she snapped, plopping down onto the bar stool. It was just like him. To suddenly be making food for her. But also not to even ask what she wanted to eat. And to potentially ruin one of her favorite bowls in the process. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t charming. It was annoying. She told herself that three times in a row before she gave up.
“Oh,” he frowned down at it. Shrugging, he dug into the silverware drawer and pulled out two forks. He tossed it all down on the counter between them and leaned onto his elbows. “Cold chicken and rice will not kill us.”
She sighed. God. She really needed to learn how to stay mad at him for longer than 15 seconds. And she was mad still. Just not enough to do something petty like refuse this perfectly good food.
They ate in, if not companionable, then peaceful silence for a few minutes until her hunger had abated enough to hear what he had to say.
“So…” she prodded him, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay,” he let out a long breath, like he was nervous. Which was impossible. She’d never seen him nervous before. He was a bear, for Christ’s sake. What did he have to be nervous about?
Anton slicked his palms down his khakis and walked around the counter so that they were on the same side. He lifted his hands, hesitated, and then reached out for hers.
She forced her body’s awareness to stay general and not hyperfocus on the one spot they were touching. Fat chance.
“Okay,” he said again and cleared his throat. “I am no good for you.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” She yanked her hands out of his and hopped down off the bar stool. “Don’t you fucking start that shit again, Anton. I’ve heard enough of that to last me a lifetime.”
“No!” he paced after her, got in front of her long enough to nudge her toward the couch to sit her down again. “I must finish this time.”
He waved his hands in the air like he was performing a magic trick. “We rewind. To morning in truck.”
AJ bit her lip. What? He wanted to go back to that day? Try the conversation again? “You’re asking for a do-over?”
“Yes,” he nodded, looking tremendously relieved that she was understanding. “I want do-over.” He sat down on the coffee table, facing her. He took her hands again. “AJ, I am no good for you. Because of things that happen to me. That make me… not like other men. You are so good. So sweet. And everything soft and beautiful.”
Oh, Jesus. She was not prepared for this.
“And I am scared I do a rough thing that hurts you.” His eyes fell to her collarbone, where his bite mark had long since faded. “And it reminds me that I am no good for you.” He took a deep breath. “But I will try. For you and baby. I will read the books. I have good father. So I do everything he did. I protect you. From everything. I do not have very much money. But I will fix that, too. I-”
AJ sprang to her feet. She needed some sort of defense. Anything that was gonna stop her from ripping her heart out and handing it to this man. This man she loved so goddamn much she couldn’t feel her fingers right now. She grasped at the loose end that was haunting her.
“Is this because I’m pregnant?” she asked, looking down at where he sat on the coffee table. “Look, I know I’m mad at you. But I’m not ever going to keep you from the baby. You don't have to be different for me just to be in the baby’s life.” She waved at his fancy clothes. “I know who you are. I’m not expecting you to change just because you knocked me up. And you don’t have to worry. You can be this baby’s father in any way you want. You don’t have to act like you want to be with me, alright?”
The words flung out of her mouth in one huge blur. Anton was completely still as she spoke, except for the look of horror that tore across his face.
Anton stood, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her back down. But he paced instead of sitting himself.
“You think I do this, say this, because I make you pregnant?” He looked at her incredulously and then considered her. “Well, yes. In way. But also no.” He tossed his hands in the air. “I knew I should bring English dictionary. Look. I do not do and say these things for honor or to ‘step up to plate’. I do this because I make you pregnant. So now you are finally mine.”
AJ’s breath stopped in her throat. Everything went fuzzy around the edges like a filter on an Instagram photo.
“We are tied together now,” he continued. “So all I have to do is treat you well. Be good enough for you. This,” he gestured to her belly, “means that there is no use fighting with myself anymore. It is done. Over. I must surrender and be good to you now.”
“Surrender?” she choked. “God, Anton, you make it sound like I’m trapping you.”
He shook his head vehemently. “You cannot trap me in place I want to be.” For the second time in 24 hours, he fell to his knees in front of her. “I wanted to make you pregnant that night, bahinia. I hated the condom I wore. Because it would separate me from you. I wanted to mix. To see you round with part of me. That night and now. Here. I want to give you everything. A family. A future.”
“Oh God.” She dropped her head into her hands and finally let her tears come. There was only so much holding them back a girl could do. “You’re killing me. Of course I want those things. Of course. You asshole. And you’re gonna make me say no.”
“Why will you say no?” His voice was quiet.
“I-” She was mortified at the reason and so mad that he was gonna make her say it out loud. “I can’t explain it right now.”
“Please try, Autumn.”
“I - I,” she wracked her brain for a reason, any reason, not to have to reveal her deepest insecurity right now. To this man whom she was only starting to trust again. “I can’t even think straight with that badger on your face.”
He recoiled from her. “What?”
“Your awful beard,” she snapped, thrilled to not be vulnerable for a moment. “I can barely take you seriously when you look like that.”
He ran a hand over it. “I kind of like it.”
“With your white streak, you look like a skunk,” she informed him. “Come on.”
With that, she rose, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bathroom. She dug her cosmetology kit out of her backpack and sat him down on a folding chair she dragged from the closet.
He eyed the straight razor she pulled out of her case with an appropriate amount of caution. “Maybe we wait until you are calm.”
“I’m calm,” she replied. “Now take off your shirt unless you want shaving cream and clippings all over it.”
That instruction he had no problem with. He tugged at the tie, popped a few buttons on the collar and then yanked the whole thing off over his head, tossing it out into the hallway.
“Okay,” she blew a long slow breath out between her lips and it raised Anton’s skin where it floated across him. But she wasn’t looking at him in a heated way. It was professional. She cocked her head to one side, picturing exactly what she was going to do to his hair.
It wasn’t hot for her, maybe. But the intensity of her gaze had him adjusting himself in his pants. Her slow, hooded eyes followed the movement of his hand and she blushed a little, but kept it pushing.
She leaned him forward and quickly washed his hair in the sink, putting a towel on his shoulders to keep the drips at bay.
He sniffed at his own hair. “I smell like you now.”
“Hmm,” she agreed, but she was barely listening as she tugged at his hair, bending down and turning his head this way and that. She had a good idea and she was getting her usual haircut thrill. She loved being able to do this for people.
She snipped and combed. Dancing from one side of the chair to the other.
Meanwhile, Anton was slowly going insane. Every small tug of her fingers, each brush of her sleeve against his shoulder, every little hum of approval she made were absolutely lighting him up. Each touch layered over the next until he felt like every part of his scalp, neck, ears, shoulders, all of it were on fire, burning for her.
He wasn’t even bothering to deal with the raging erection pressing against his pants. He’d pretty much laid all his cards on the table for her. So if she had a problem with this, well, she could look away. She wasn’t looking away, he noticed as he watched her in the mirror. Her eyes fell toward the ridge in his pants every ten seconds or so, like she couldn’t believe it was there.
“Whose idea was the fancy clothes?” she asked eventually, when the silence had started to hum and thicken with their need for one another.
“Hmmm?”
“You said the flowers were Emin’s idea. Whose was the fancy clothes?”
“Ah. Danil.” He smirked at her in the mirror. They both knew how much Danil cared about looking professional for his job as a lawyer. When he’d first started working, they’d all made fun of him to no end. “And the hair was Maxim.”
“What?” AJ blinked at him in the mirror.
“Maxim say that you will have to touch me because you cannot look at, how did you call it? Badger? On my face?”
AJ pursed her lips together, but the smile was already slipping through. “He was right,” she muttered as she trimmed carefully over his ears. “So, was any of it your idea?”
“The words. All the words were mine.”
His eyes followed her in the mirror but she didn’t look up at him this time. She kept her gaze firmly on his haircut, her brow furrowing with her racing thoughts.
And then the haircut was done and he had to admit it looked good, long and wavy on the top. Shorter and slicked back over his ears.
“I was going for a James Dean thing,” she said, squinting at him. She let her eyes fall to his beard. “Now for this monstrosity.”
She used some sort of shaving cream on his beard and tossed a small towel over her shoulder like an old school barber. Using the straight razor she slowly, carefully shaved him clean. She turned his head this way and that as she went, close enough to feel his breath on her face.
He would have thought that having a blade to his throat would have discouraged his dick, but when she used the damp towel to get the rest of the shaving cream off his face, he was still hard as a rock for her.
“Wow,” she whispered, finally coming out of hairdresser mode and back to AJ mode. “I haven’t seen you without a five-o’clock shadow since I was 15,” she whispered, trailing one hand over his smooth, carved cheek.
“Appreciate it now,” he said, eyeing himself in the mirror. “Clean shave only lasts few hours for me.”
“I’ve noticed.” She started cleaning up the tools she’d used.
“You noticed because you watched me, no?”
His words had her hands fumbling for a second, but she quickly recovered. “I’m sorry?”
“You watched me in same way I watched you, no?”
“I - I’m not sure.”
He eyed her like he didn’t believe her, but he let it drop.
“You can shower off all the clippings if you want,” she said as she started toward the broom closet.
He grabbed her wrist before she could get too far, tugged her down so her ass landed directly on top of his cock.
“Tell me what you did not say before. Why you say no to me.”
Oh God. She really, really didn’t want to have to say it out loud. But his eyes were so dark, so close. And she wasn’t used to talking to him like this, touching him. “Because I couldn’t do that to you, Anton. Because I’ll never say yes and bind you to somebody you don’t want.”
He recoiled. Blinked at her. “Don’t want?”
“I know you don’t want me. Not really. You were turned on that night we slept together, sure. But it was so easy for you to leave. And I know it was because,” she bit her lip, spit it out. “Because it was my first time and I wasn’t any good at it. And I get it. I mean, I’m all plain Jane. And you’re this sex god-”
His hand clamped over her mouth, effectively shutting her up. His eyes burned like black diamonds as he stood with her in his arms. He set her on top of the bathroom counter and planted his hands on either side of her.
“Do. Not. Move,” he ordered her as he stepped back and started unbuttoning his pants. He paused halfway through, stepped up to her again. Tugging her sweater over her head, he immediately fell to his knees and pulled her leggings right off.
“White panties,” he muttered as he nipped at the arch of her foot before rising again and dexterously unclipping her bra.
In less than 15 seconds he’d completely undressed her except for her underwear and AJ hadn’t even decided if she’d forgiven him yet. She was in so much trouble.
Just when she expected him to fall on her, he stepped back. “Now, do not move,” he commanded, before shucking off his own pants and underwear and stepping into the shower, not bothering to close the shower curtain.
AJ was aware that her mouth was open. And maybe someday she’d work up the strength to be able to close it again. But as he stepped under the spray of water, roughly washing off all the clippings from his haircut, AJ could only manage one thought.
Damn.
Dude’s muscles had muscles. She knew he was built like a brick, she’d seen him mostly naked plenty of times. He was a shifter after all, and not all that concerned with nudity. But, Jesus. Never like this. His skin was golden, dusted with ash brown hair. Each leg was like a tree trunk, his calves thick and leading down to a good-looking set of ankles. His chest was wide and led to two built shoulders. She was familiar with the network of scars over his back. From his time with Navuka. But they didn’t mar his beauty. They enhanced it.
And then there was his cock. Not that she’d had much experience in that area, but this seemed ridiculously large to her. In fact, now that she was getting a good look, she really had no idea how he’d ever gotten that thing inside of her. It was pretty much the size of her forearm.
“You think I do not want you.” He slammed off the shower and slicked water off his hair. Laughed a humorless laugh. “Wanting you is knife in my gut for ten years.” He didn’t bother with a towel, just whisked his hand over his arms, across his chest. “And you say it is not real. I wanted you when you were girl. 15. I was 22 and ashamed with it.” He stepped out of the tub, still dripping, golden, and straining for her. "You say I do not want you.” He paced toward her.
“I learn English for you,” he growled, picking her up by the hips and striding out of the bathroom. Her arms came around his neck automatically as he carried her down the hall to her bedroom. He stepped through the door like he owned the place. Wasted no time in laying her down on the bed.
He stood up over her, looped his fingers in her panties and slid them off, tossing them aside like they’d offended him.
“You say I do not want you. You say it was easy for me to leave you.” He carded a hand through his wet hair and sent water droplets ricocheting all over. His eyes were sparking and dangerous as she lay, naked and spread, on the bed for him. “Autumn. Do you know what ‘bahinia’ means?”
It was all she could do to weakly shake her head from side to side.
“Goddess. It means goddess,” he replied and dropped to his knees in front of her. “I do not just ‘want’ you, bahinia. I worship you. You are my fucking god.” And then he leaned forward and buried his tongue in her pussy.
AJ slammed her eyes shut as her back came arching off the bed. His warm tongue lapped at her as his big hands spread her thighs.
She’d never felt anything even remotely like this before, like she was burning alive in a good way. He’d only been at it for seconds and she was already a breath away from coming. She gasped, working her thighs and hips at the same time. He licked all the way up her slit to the tight, silky knot at the top.
“Anton,” she screamed, gripping at the sheets like they could hold her to the earth, when she knew in her heart that she was plummeting through the sky.
“Give it to me,” he muttered into her wetness, driving her crazy with the words and the feel of his mouth moving against her. “Give it up.”
And she did. Willingly, freely. She went tense, tight. Everything contracted painfully for one second, two seconds, three. And then she absolutely exploded into pleasure. Hot, knife-edged heat fireworked out of her in every direction. She heard a woman screaming, felt Anton’s hair being wrenched by her hand. Her heels slammed into his back and where they touched, she felt the two of them melt together. She was sure he could feel her pleasure shooting into him. It went on and on and on. Each suck, each flick of his tongue over her clit drew out her orgasm until her body gave way, and the waves of pleasure had no choice but to roll softly through her, like feathers over her sensitive skin.
And just when she thought it was done, he opened his mouth wider, plunged his tongue inside her again and made wide circles, stimulating the walls of her pussy and making her clamp down yet again.
He groaned and she felt the vibrations roll through her as he spread her legs even wider, tipped her up, and pressed his thumb firmly to her asshole.
She saw stars, planets, space and time in a colorful kaleidoscope past her vision. Her voice gave out, hoarse and weak, as her back arched one more time, her toes pointed against his back, and her body fell, weak, back to earth.