39. Viviana
The air is still and heavy for three, maybe four seconds. Mikhail is rigid against me, frozen except for the scrape of his dark eyes over my face.
Then he snaps into dizzying motion.
My feet are off the floor and he crushes me against his chest. The air whooshes out of my lungs as he spins me towards the center of the room.
But as it turns out, I don’t need air.
I don’t need gravity or oxygen or any of those useless fundamentals of life. The only thing that matters is the way he throws me down on his desk and settles his weight between my legs.
With one swipe of his arm, the desk is cleared. A cup hits the wall, pens skittering across the wood floor. Papers are still fluttering to the ground like confetti when he grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks it over my head.
There’s no time to think about what we’re doing. As soon as I toss the shirt to the side, his mouth lands hot and needy on my chest. He shoves my bra aside and takes my nipple between his lips, rolling it with his tongue.
I cry out, sliding my hands into the silky weight of his hair. I’m feverish, out of my mind. I came in here to yell at him and now, I’m arching my breast deeper into his mouth and grinding myself against his thigh.
I fist the front of his shirt. “God, I missed you.”
His mouth is too busy tasting every inch of my skin to stop for conversation. His lips have important work to do. They blaze down my ribs. I wouldn’t have called the belly button an erogenous zone, but Mikhail is making a strong case for inclusion.
“When I found out you gave birth to my son, all I could think about was seeing you pregnant,” he growls against my flat stomach, curling his hands there. “I hate that I didn’t get to see what you looked like carrying my baby.”
I’ll paint him a lovely picture once I regain the ability to string words and sentences together.
I was enormous. My ankles were swollen and I couldn’t even fit into my narrow, piss-poor excuse for a closet. I had to pile all of my clothes behind the couch for the last two months of my pregnancy. I felt like a whale.
But the reverent way Mikhail talks about it makes me think he would have made me feel beautiful.
I also hate that he wasn’t there.
He slides his hands from my waist to my jeans, tearing at the button and dragging them down my thighs along with my panties. He reaches out and strokes his thumb over me. I don’t have a choice but to open my legs wider. To give him more.
And he takes it.
He toys with me up and down and up, spreading my wetness around before he slides one finger into me. I sigh in momentary relief before raw need yawns open inside of me. It’s a sinkhole, taking everything with it. I want Mikhail to feed it until we both collapse in on ourselves.
“Mikhail, I?—”
I want more, I want to say. But then he turns his wrist and strokes his thick finger along my insides.
All at once, it’s too much.
We just started and I’m already spasming, gripping the edge of his desk. He’s going to kill me in under thirty seconds with the tip of one finger.
But I want his weight against my chest. I want to feel how solid he is.
I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him up to me. “Fill me now.”
I reach for his pants, but he’s already there. Already unbuttoning. Already holding the hard length of himself in his palm.
“I came in my fist so many fucking times, Viviana… imagining it was you.” He slides a second finger inside of me, stretching me. “I was waiting for the day I could fill you up again. With me. With our baby.”
He gives his cock a rough stroke with one hand as he pumps two fingers into me. It’s good, but it’s not what I want. I want it to be him inside of me. I want it to be my skin, my warmth, my body wrapped around him.
“Mikhail,” I whimper.
He doesn’t seem to hear me. Or, if he does, he doesn’t care. He slides his hand up and down his shaft, timing it with the speed of his fingers in and out of me. He’s working both of us with his hands while he’s one thrust away from being buried inside of me.
I don’t understand it.
For years, I’d lie in bed with a toy between my legs, thinking about Mikhail in that bridal suite. The way he fit inside of me. The way he teased me.
Like this.
Now, he’s right here and I still can’t have him.
“I thought about you,” I confess. “Every time I touched myself. Every time I came. It was always you.”
A deep rumble moves through his chest. He drops his forehead to mine and lets out a ragged breath. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me, Viviana.”
So take me, I want to scream.
“I want you, Mikhail.”
He circles his thumb over his head and strokes again. He’s stretched so tight it looks painful.
Lord knows I’m in pain.
“I know you do. I can feel how much you want it.” He finds a spot inside of me and circles his finger. I buck off the desk and he holds me down.
I’m clenching, pulsating around his fingers, and I can’t stop. “I don’t want—I want—Please.”
“Tell me what you want, Viviana.”
There’s an urgency in his voice, but I can’t make sense of it. I can’t think about anything except the pressure building at my core. The way Mikhail’s abs are flexing, pumping his hips into his own hand instead of into me.
“I want you,” I whine. “Don’t you want me?”
I sound pathetic even to my own ears, but the sinkhole in my chest has apparently swallowed my self-respect. I need answers more than I need dignity.
He grabs my hand and wraps it around the velvet length of him. He’s warm and solid. He groans as he drags against my palm.
“Feel how much I want you. How hard I am, just thinking about putting my baby inside of you.”
I groan. I’ve never been this turned on and this frustrated at the same time. I slide my hips to the edge of the desk, taking his fingers deeper, willing them to fill me the way I know he can.
“You’re killing me,” I whimper. “I want you. You want me. What are we doing?”
“When I came inside of you six years ago, it was because you felt so good. Because this felt so good that you didn’t want me to pull out. It wasn’t because we wanted a baby. This time…” His voice trails off as he thrusts into my hand, losing his train of thought to a groan. “When you get pregnant this time, I want both of us to want it.”
“I want it, Mikhail. I want it.”
I’ve wanted it for so long. Months. Years, probably, if I feel like being dangerously honest with myself. There was always something about Mikhail Novikov that drew me in. Even before I was willing to admit it.
“You want me,” he counters. “You want my cock inside of you right now. I can feel how much you do. But when this is over, I don’t want there to be another doubt in that beautiful fucking head of yours about what this is and what we’re doing here.”
He’s worried that this is the lust talking.
I accused him of not wanting our baby and now, he’s making sure we both go into this with eyes wide open.
His concern for me would be sweet—if it wasn’t so absolutely ridiculous.
“I know what it’s like to carry your baby, Mikhail. I’ve done it before and it was the single greatest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” I take his face in my hands and look him in the eyes. “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t have charged up here and walked through that door. Now, put another baby inside of me right now. Please. I’m begging you.”
His eyes flare just before his mouth crashes over mine, bowing me back. Our tongues slide together, tasting and teasing. I moan as he slips his fingers out of me. Then he pulls back and brings them to his lips, tasting me.
He licks them clean. If I wasn’t horny out of my mind, I’d memorize the pull of his lips over his fingers. The way he savors me.
As it is, I have tunnel vision. I want to skip everything in the middle and get to the blinding light at the end. My body clenches hollowly, aching for him.
But Mikhail doesn’t drive into me.
He grabs my hips and slides me off the table.
“What are you?—”
He spins me around and presses on my shoulder until my ass is in the air and my bare breasts are smashed against the top of his desk.
Then he cracks his hand against my ass.
My skin ripples from the force of it. The sound echoes in the quiet room and I’m frozen. From the pain blistering on my backside… and the jolt of pleasure that is still vibrating directly between my legs.
“You spanked me,” I breathe, too stunned to move.
Mikhail cups my ass in his large hand, smoothing calloused fingers over the red hot skin. “That’s for ever doubting me.”
Before I can tease that he’s tempting me with a good time, Mikhail grips my hips and finally slides into me.
There are no soft, building thrusts. He presses and presses like he’s as desperate for this as I am. Like we’re making up for lost time.
I cry out when I’m sure I’ve taken all I can. But Mikhail soothes a hand down my spine and thrusts deeper as he coos, “Just like that.” His legs are flush against the backs of my thighs. “Do you feel how perfectly we fit?”
I nod weakly. It’s all I can manage. This is all I’ve wanted since he sat me on the desk, but now, it’s more than I can handle. My brain is short-circuiting.
Mikhail wraps my hair around his fist and tugs, arching my back, pushing himself just that little bit deeper. “I asked you a question, Viviana.”
I open my mouth and a desperate, pleading sound slips out. I have to search the lusty, muddied waters of my brain to find a single syllable. “Yes.”
Of course I feel it. How could I not? Sex with Mikhail has never been just sex. It isn’t enough for him to claim my body. He needs my mind, my soul. All of me.
Well, he can have it.
Each thrust has me stretching onto my toes, nearly lifting off the floor. I’m pinned between the table and his body, completely at Mikhail’s mercy.
“This is how deep I’m going to be when I come,” he says, sinking into me to illustrate the point. “This is how I’m going to put my baby inside you.”
He’s toeing a fine line between torture and pleasure. I’m panting and pleading. “Yes. Please.”
Suddenly, his hand is around my throat and I’m lifted up, up until our bodies are flush together. My shoulder blades press into his sweat-damp chest and my head is on his shoulder. I’m pinned, unable to move, unable to do anything but take him at a new, devastating angle that has my eyes rolling back in my head. I reach for any bit of his skin I grab, settling on digging my nails into his muscled thighs.
With him right behind me like this, I can feel the ways he’s falling apart, too. His heart pounds against my back. His breath is wild on my neck. He kisses my throat and my shoulder and I’ve never felt more out of control and more protected than in this moment.
Mikhail’s voice is a dark whisper in my ear. “Come with me, Viviana. Let’s make a baby together.”
The words push me over the edge.
My body clenches, tightens. I hold him inside of me, gasping in time with his small thrusts until his hips slam against me and hold. His hand tightens around my throat and we’re perfectly still, save for the pulse of him between my legs.
Finally, he lets me go and we collapse forward, a panting, sweating mess on top of the desk. He’s still inside of me when he kisses the base of my neck. “I want every part of you, Viviana—inside and out. Never doubt that.”