CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AFTER A QUICK call to Cora and then a shower, Maybe wrapped herself in a robe before heading to their bedroom, where she fell facedown on the bed with a groan.
She heard Alexsei come in and shut the door at his back. Relaxed as she allowed herself a smile into the mattress and the happiness he brought with him.
“I brought water and hot tea,” he said.
She turned her head sideways to watch him. He no longer acted like a guest. Instead he’d adapted parts of her routine with his as easily as if they’d been doing it for years.
He also managed to take up space. To own it and mold it how he liked. Not at Maybe’s expense though. He managed to be in charge, take up all the oxygen in the room, be bossy and protective, and still give her the space she needed to be what she wanted to be.
He put the mug on the nightstand. “Drink it. I added whiskey. After a day like today, you needed it.”
He’d been at her side during that whole confrontation. When she’d told them all about Bill Evans. When her father had said all those cruel things about her as if he didn’t care he was breaking the last tie she had to him.
And he didn’t. Which was what she’d accepted. Or thought she had, years ago. She hated it that she still got hurt when he did that. Hated that he had the power to make her feel anything at all.
“When I moved to Spokane and they got me into school there, Robbie set me up with a therapist for a while. Mainly she helped me with self-esteem and that sort of stuff. She’s the one who told me I was a badass for the first time. And to repeat that to myself until I believed it.” Maybe wasn’t sure why she’d told him that.
She got herself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard so she could drink the tea he’d brought.
“She was right. You’re a badass. In fact it was one of the first things I thought about you when we first met.”
He stripped down to his boxers and pulled a pair of sleep pants on as she frowned. Then again, he was a fantasy come to life shirtless, inked up, barefoot and a look on his face that sent a warm flood of pleasure through her senses.
The front of her robe had gaped open and she left it that way so his gaze could keep drifting there. When his focus was on her all the bad seemed to fall away and it was just this man who saw her as fierce and beautiful.
The static quieted, instead sexual tension began to grow as his gaze flicked down to her breasts, now showing in the gap of the robe—after she’d shifted forward enough to make that happen.
He stood next to the bed, just looking at her.
The warmth of the tea and whiskey coupled with the shower, a whole lot of lust, and an impending adrenaline crash lent her movements a languid grace as she got to her knees on the bed in front of him.
He exhaled slowly, his pupils swallowing all the color in his eyes.
“I need you to touch me,” she said. Letting him see the truth of that in her face.
“Baby,” he murmured as he got on the bed. “How you wreck me.” He cupped her cheeks with so much gentleness she nearly cried. Touched her with reverence she wasn’t sure she deserved.
But she’d needed it. Soaked it up thirstily as he leaned in to kiss her. A brush of lips against hers until she opened on a sigh.
“I’m sorry you were so hurt tonight,” he murmured against her mouth.
She shook her head. “Not right now. Please. Just touch me. We’ll talk about the rest later.”
Maybe could tell he wanted to argue, but in the end, he turned off the overhead light, returned to the bed and she ended up on her back, watching him strip the rest of the way down, his cock hard and ready.
Wow. She was so very lucky.
Not only because he packed some serious heat behind his zipper. Because he was beautiful and strong and super bossy but he used it for her. To protect her and keep her safe.
He made her feel precious and that, she realized, had been a rarity outside a very few people.
He spoke softly, mixing Russian with English. Endearments as he kissed over her shoulders. He urged her on as she dug her nails into his forearms.
It could have been a grocery list—though her Russian was improved enough that she could probably recognize a word or two if it was food—and it wouldn’t have mattered. It was the emotion there. The way he slid his palms all over her, tracing her curves lovingly. Like he knew each and every dip and hollow and couldn’t decide which he liked most.
Her nipples ached as he breathed over the piercing. Teasing. Not licking or touching, just warm breath until she arched into his mouth.
Chuckling, he bit then, hard enough to make her yelp, but not really to hurt. This time when he blew over it, the sting wisped away into pleasure.
Her skin seemed hypersensitive as he licked over each rib and around to her belly. He drew it out, took his time as his lips and fingertips traced over every part of her he could reach.
Nothing and no one else ever made her feel this way. So perfect and beautiful. The gift he gave her every single day was to see herself through his eyes.
Suddenly, she wanted to taste and tease. She shifted, rolling out from under him, shoving him back with a hand on his shoulder.
His eyes darkened as the right corner of his mouth canted up ever so slightly. “Go on then, my beautiful zajka.”
She straddled his body, kissing from his temple, across his brow, especially between his eyes where his frown line lived. Beneath her, he seemed to hum with all that strength he held back for her. The heat of his skin against her inner thighs left her slightly drunk at the onslaught of sensation.
Leaning, she rained small kisses across his closed eyes and cheeks, marveling that he was all hers. She took her time, meandering, brushing her lips against his brow, his cheeks, down to his mouth.
Then she settled in because it was one of her favorite parts of him. His lips were firm as they met hers, opening to her tongue, he gasped when she nipped his bottom lip, cock hardening even further against her.
His taste, warm and sensual, flooded her. Familiar, certainly by that point, but also fired her senses every single time. Maybe craved it the moment she stopped having it. So good and unlike anything she’d ever had. A taste, she knew to her bones, she’d find nowhere else.
He murmured into her, sending all those dirty, sexy words along with the air she breathed.
It filled her totally with him, leaving a delicious sort of ache as the pleasure and need built.
“I could kiss you forever,” she told him, before leaving his lips to cruise along the hollow of his throat.
He hummed his approval and she smiled against his skin.
His fingertips traced over her ribs and around to her back, over the notches in her spine and she wanted to purr.
Maybe shifted down a little so she could lick over each one of his nipples until they stood hard and his breathing had a hitch in it here and there.
He’d been there for her. Over and over he’d bullied, cajoled, listened, given advice and loved her.
Rearing up, she scored her nails down his belly, over the edges of the stag tattoo there. He hissed at the sensation, but not from pain.
In all the years she’d known him she’d never have imagined this. This connection they shared. It humbled her even as it elated.
“I love you,” she told him as she scooted farther down, settling between his thighs to survey the bounty he provided.
“I love you too. Especially when you’re naked between my thighs.”
She snickered. He got her in that way too. Accepted, no, enjoyed her humor and played with it. Teased.
The humor wisped away once more as she looked at him splayed out beneath her. So beautiful and hot, damn sexy. The head of his cock was dark, smeared with pre-come. Maybe sighed happily at the sight. “All for me?” She fluttered her lashes at him.
“Most definitely all for you,” he agreed in utter seriousness.
She licked over it, knowing how sensitive he’d be. Pleased when he snarled her name, his fingers digging into the blankets.
Maybe licked up the long line of him. Salt and skin, electric against her tongue. So hot. At the head, she swirled her tongue, flicking her gaze up his body, latching to his, the connection then tautening.
Here too, he wanted, was big enough to take it. Or force it. Even as she drove him toward climax, he kept a leash on his behavior so she didn’t get hurt. Not that it got in the way of how exciting it was between them.
He knew she liked it hard and a little rough. The fingers in her hair tugged, the slice of pleasure/pain zinged through her. But he never crossed that line, understanding what it was to be hard and a little rough without hurting her. While still cherishing her.
Understanding she had strange buttons and triggers that she was, from time to time, embarrassed by but he never seemed to have a problem accommodating. It never failed to send a thrill through her.
In her palm, his balls drew up tight against his body as she kissed and licked his cock. He was close, she knew the difference in his taste, the way his muscles trembled just a little. She wanted him to come, wanted that little bit of magic it gave her to break his control in their little battle of wills where they both won.
“Wait,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She didn’t want to wait. She wanted him to come in her. Wanted to bring him that pleasure. Wanted to be so good all the time she burned herself into his skin.
He snarled, cursing a long stream in Russian before grabbing her forearms and hauling her back.
“I said wait. I want to be in you.”
She frowned, but allowed him to disentangle himself to grab a condom he’d handily tucked under a pillow.
“You’ve got some moves there,” she told him, watching as he fisted himself a few times before rolling the condom on.
A full-body flush hit and she blew out a breath.
“I want you back on top. I like to fuck you that way. I can touch all your best body parts so easily.” He lay back on the bed, cock so hard it tapped his belly, ready for her. And only her.
She took a moment to let herself revel in the fact that all Alexsei’s bounty was at her command.
Or was commanding hers. Something like that. Whatever it was, it worked.
She had to pause when she grabbed him at the root. Not just to hold him steady to guide him into her body, but because it was harsh and beautiful in a feral way.
Though Maybe had wanted to rush, wanted that slight discomfort as her body stretched around him, she took it slow, letting the sensation overwhelm her. Let it push away everything else but the two of them.
He cursed, even as he wore a smirk, watching her face—and her breasts—as she began the sensual rise and fall on him.
She didn’t want it to end. He filled her up to the point where it seemed as if it would be too much. Sometimes everything about him seemed that way. On the verge of overwhelming. But she let go, gave herself over to the madness that being with him could be sometimes and he always caught her.
The dynamic shifted and he took over, controlling her depth, thrusting up to meet her as she slid down his cock.
He drew a fingertip over her lips and she sucked it inside. He traced it around her nipple, still slick, and down to her clit, where he began to circle it in time with his thrusts.
“Are we in a race?” he teased.
“A contest,” she managed to gasp out as he squeezed her clit gently. Climax hovered, but hadn’t descended yet. She didn’t want it to. Not until he was close as well.
“Ah. All right then.” He squeezed again, dragging her closer to orgasm.
Maybe tightened her inner muscles around him, adding a swivel each time she took him all the way inside.
Both were sweat slicked, warm and close to bursting. Nothing felt as good as him inside her, his movements slightly uncoordinated because he was about to lose all that hard-edged control and come.
Inside her.
That was so sexy she thought she might faint from it. But then climax hit, she couldn’t hold it back anymore as he ground his fingers into her clit, pressing harder until there was nothing to do but let go.
But as her orgasm hit, she heard his own soft curse. Inside her, he jerked as he followed her into climax.