32. Anastasia
Chapter 32
Anastasia
Vrrrr…Vrrrr…Vrrr… My phone vibrates on the nightstand, pulling me out of sleep. I hit the Cancel button without looking at the caller ID and pull the pillow over my head. Every muscle in my body aches, bringing back memories from last night. Bash had me pinned in every position imaginable. He’d been absolutely feral in the way he took me. That a-hole edged me to the end of the Earth until I begged him for what I wanted. And oh, did he give it to me. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm that many times.
I’d kill myself before I’d ever admit it to him, but he may have actually ruined me for anyone else. He’d skated the line between pain and pleasure, teetering on the edge until I was about to give up before plunging me back into bliss. Any thought I managed to have was fried when he’d handled me like he could read my every thought.
By the way it hurts to move, it took a toll on my body, but I can’t say I mind. If anything, I have to be careful not to grow addicted before this all comes to an end. My fingers skim over the cold side of his bed. Did he leave? It’s the sound of rushing water coming from the closed bathroom door that has my breath releasing in a sigh. I refuse to acknowledge the relief easing my mind because I’d have to admit I’d been disappointed he wasn’t here in the first place.
Vrrr…Vrrr…Vrrr… I ignore the twinge beneath my ribs and grab my phone. Shit. Six missed calls from Nikolai. There’s no way I would have slept through them all. I glance at the bathroom. Did he have something to do with this?
Inhaling through my nose, I let it out slowly before answering in my most cheerful tone. “Hi, Niko.”
“Hi? Hi? Is that all you have to say to me after ignoring my calls for the last four hours?” Oh, he sounds mad.
I move the glass of water so I can see the time. My mouth falls open when it shows past noon. I haven’t slept in like this for years. No wonder Niko was worried.
“I’m sorry, I must have had my phone on silent.” Lie, but I’m not explaining the situation to him. I can only imagine how that would go… Oh, my pretend boyfriend broke someone’s hand for touching me, and it got me so turned on I ended up having crazy sex all night that caused me to pass out for several hours. Not a freaking chance. I’d rather chew off my own arm.
I clear my throat, still thick from sleep. “I’m sorry for worrying you. It was a mistake.”
“Are you just getting up? Were you with that bastard Everette?” The accusation is clear in his tone.
I freeze, every joint going rigid. I’d purposely kept him in the dark. As a little sister raised by her older brother, I’ve learned a few things. One of which is that he’ll absolutely lose his shit if he finds out I’m sleeping with Bash. Which is honestly how I’m supposed to feel, yet here I am, having mind-blowing sex with the devil himself. I put on my innocent tone I take out for special occasions. “Of course not. Why would you even say that?”
“Don’t mess with me right now, Ana. Do you have any idea how many pictures there are of you two making out?” His tone switches from anger to concern, and I relax. He never could stay mad at me.
I rub my hand over my face, pushing back my hair. My fingers tangle in the wild strands, providing further proof of my wild night. Thank God Niko didn’t FaceTime me, or I’d have been completely screwed. “Calm down. I told you I had a plan. I’m so close to getting my hands on the Kokoshnik Tiara. Just a few more days.”
He scoffs, incredulous. “And Bash is how you’re planning on doing it?”
“Yeah, he is a Lord of the Order of Saints. If anyone can help me, it’s him,” I say, each syllable more clipped than the last. He might be my brother, but he has some audacity to judge how I get this done. “You’re going to have to trust me to do this. We need that tiara, and this is our chance.”
“You know I’m going gray prematurely because of you, right?” He blows out a breath in defeat, knowing full well he isn’t winning this one.
“Haven’t you heard? Gray hair on guys is totally in right now.” I try to lighten the mood, and he chuckles, at least pretending he thinks everything’s okay.
I know he’s going to worry until I get this done.
Changing the subject, I ask, “You’ve been with our family for a bit now. Hear anything useful?”
There’s a long pause that has my hair standing on end. “Something’s not right here, Anastasia. I’m figuring it out.”
The use of my full name has me uneasy. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know when I do.”
I want to demand answers now, but if I want him to trust me, I’ll have to trust him. My brother’s more than capable of taking care of himself.
“Fine…just be careful,” I say.
“You’re one to talk.”
I laugh. I have nothing to say to that. If I told him I plan on sneaking back into the Vault, with Bash Everette, of all people, he’d likely lose his mind. We share some small talk for a bit before getting off the phone. Whatever’s up with him, I’m going to have to wait until after I get the tiara to find out.
I swing my legs off the bed, then freeze as the silky black sheet slips, revealing the top of my bare breast, and clasp it to my collarbone. I’d been too exhausted to get dressed last night, choosing to collapse in place instead. I expect to feel sticky, but I’m clean. The idea of Bash wiping me down, careful not to wake me up, has unwanted fluttering in my chest.
The bathroom door opens, and Bash steps out, surrounded by thick steam. My heart races, and I swallow hard as he approaches. Water drips down his chest, following deep grooves between his muscles until they disappear into the low-slung white towel around his hips. My thighs rub together as I take him in, my mouth suddenly dry with the want to catch the rivulets with my tongue.
“You keep looking at me like that, Princess, and I won’t be responsible for what happens next,” he says in a thick, gravelly tone.
My gaze snaps to his face, and where I expect to see his usual playfulness, it’s replaced by a dark, heated hunger. Goose bumps rise along my arms. If we keep this up, it’ll be me jumping him.
Cowardly, I wrap the sheets around me and scurry to the bathroom, his chuckle following me through the closed door.
I lean against the wood, head tipped back and resting on the door. My heart goes wild, pounding in my ears, as my body feels like it’s going to combust any second.
I adjust the temperature all the way to the right, making it as cold as I can handle before climbing under the spray.
My teeth are chattering by the time I’m done, but at least I’m not about to jump him.
Bash is sitting on the bed, an innocent look on his face as he watches me. “Feel better?”
“Get out!”
He raises his hands, brows shooting up, wearing a smug grin. “As you wish, Princess.”
The door closes behind him, and I collapse onto the mattress, groaning into the comforter.
“Thank God we’re grabbing the Kokoshnik Tiara. I can’t take too much more of this.”
Bash’s unwavering attention as I move through the kitchen has heat burning between my shoulder blades. He’s been following my every move since I came downstairs after my shower, like a puppy looking for attention. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t tempting. He’s dressed in an oversized hoodie that looks like it would swallow me whole and gray sweatpants that are entirely too revealing whenever he moves. From the smirk he wears, it’s definitely intentional.
He’s hot in his usual attire, but his casual attire makes me want to curl into him, sucking up his heat. I bet he feels soft and warm…I need to get out of here.
The doorbell saves me from my thoughts. “I’ll get it.”
Bash is up, following closely behind me. “You shouldn’t answer the door to strangers.”
“Why? The guards are out there.”
“Fine.” His guarded expression brightens when the entrance swings open and Scarlet and Misty push their way in.
“Hi,” I say, a little tentative.
“We’re here to steal your girl,” Misty says, eyes so bright she’s effervescent.
Scarlet shoves a stunned Bash back and grabs my hands. “We’re kidless. Please tell me you’ll come out.”
How can I deny her when the plea is so clear in her voice? I’m not sure why they need me, but I’m not going to turn them down. Our society is full of women willing to step on each other if it gives them the chance to move. These two definitely give off supportive vibes.
Without knowing what I’m getting into, I answer, “Count me in.”
Misty hops, clapping her hands together. “Perfect. Grab your coat.”
When they came and got me, I didn’t know they were bringing me to a spa day. We sit next to each other in large massage chairs while women in pink uniforms work on our feet and calves. We’ve been here for hours, starting off with massages, then facials and manicures. At this point, I’m Jell-O with how relaxed I am.
I should have known better than to let down my guard.
“So…how are things going with you and Bash?” Scarlet asks, sipping on a red can.
“Yeah, you two looked pretty cozy when we got to your place.” There’s a gleam in Misty’s gaze that tells me I’m in trouble.
A muscle in my neck twitches. I’m still not used to Bash’s place being mine…nor should I get used to it since it won’t last for much longer. I need to figure out how to get out of this because I can’t exactly tell these two that without blowing up Bash and my deal. We’ve already successfully tricked the Everette brothers into believing Bash has settled down, fulfilling my end of the bargain. Once I get my hands on that tiara, it’ll be over.
Guilt swirls in my stomach, mixed with an unknown ache. These two have been accepting of me, warm and welcoming as they welcome me into their family. I feel gross inside, lying to them. The least I can do is downplay it. The trick to lying is to stay as close to the truth as possible.
“It’s not that serious. We’re more of a fling than an actual relationship. Really, it’s more about getting his brothers off his back than anything.” The words taste bad on my tongue.
Scarlet and Misty look at each other, then back to me.
“Bash isn’t the type of person to care about what anyone thinks,” Scarlet says, giving me a knowing smile. “I’m positive he hasn’t listened to his brothers a day in his life.”
My throat’s thick. I have no idea how to respond to that. What they think and what I know are complete opposites. I shrug, doing my best to look natural. “You know how he is. He’s not serious about anything.”
“Exactly,” Misty calls me out. “Which is why he’s clearly serious about you.”
The women painting our nails murmur to each other as they work, occasionally casting glances our way.
There’s a lightness in my chest that has no right to be there. I know Bash and my relationship is for pretenses only, so why do I feel like there might be more here?
“Believe what you want,” Scarlet says when I don’t respond. “You never know. These Everett brothers have a way of getting exactly what they want.”
Misty snorts. “Definitely sneaky about it too.”
Scarlet leans in as close as the chair will allow. “Seriously, I’ve never seen him this way. Take care of him.”
Shock ripples through me. Out of the two of us, it’s not him in danger of getting hurt.
Misty covers the bill, ignoring my protests, just making me feel worse. I did my best to enjoy today, knowing this won’t happen again. Once Bash and I break up, there’ll be no reason for the three of us to hang out. Which totally sucks. In a society full of vipers, it feels really nice to have women on my side.
They go ahead while I use the washroom. By the time I walk out the front door, the sky cracks open and lets out a deluge of rain, bringing a chill with it. I stay under the overhang and pull up my phone, groaning. I’m supposed to text Carter to come pick me up, but I’m still resistant to let Bash control any aspect of my life.
I assess my options. Bash’s place is less than a fifteen-minute walk away. I’m wearing a coat, although it’s not exactly rainproof. I’m still in slide sandals, not wanting to mess up the cute flower designs painted on my toes. I raise my foot, wiggling it around, causing the shoe to pop off. I’ll probably die trying to run in these, which means it’s impossible to avoid being soaked through.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Hubby: Do you need a ride, Princess?
How can he possibly know that? I huff out a breath and change his name back to Mr. Delusional in my contacts. There’s no question that I should take him up on his offer. It’s cold, it’s rainy, it’s master-level miserable, but I can’t bring myself to do it. After listening to Scarlet and Misty go on about Bash treating me differently than anyone else. I need to get my head on straight. There can be only one delusional person in this non-relationship, and it won’t be me. I tuck my phone back into my pocket before I can do anything stupid, like beg for a ride, and button up my coat until it covers my neck.
The rain’s coming down in huge droplets that splat as they hit the ground. I groan inwardly; this is totally going to suck. I inhale deeply. It’s now or never. I take a moment to brace myself before stepping out from under the protection of the canopy.
It’s freezing, the water immediately soaking through my clothes, causing the wet fabric to stick to me. Goose bumps erupt on my skin as the cold seeps into my bones until it feels like it’s setting up camp to stay there for good. In some form of divine punishment, the rain comes down harder, so thick it’s hard to see.
A whimper pulls from my lips when the strap of my shoe breaks and my bare foot touches the freezing ground. My scream doesn’t travel far in this weather, and nobody can hear my tantrum as I shout my frustration. Get a grip on yourself. No one is getting you out of here but you.
My pep talk works because I make my way slowly to the house. What should have been a fifteen-minute walk is quickly stretching into twenty. I wipe the wet hair off my face, pushing the stringlike strands out of my sight. At this point, I’m positive I look like a drowned raccoon, and I’m really starting to doubt my decision to ignore Bash’s offer.
I’m normally pretty smart, but this moment is proving otherwise.
I got myself into this situation. I will get myself out. Even with shielding my eyes with my hand, it’s hard to see more than a few feet ahead of me as I struggle forward. I’m fine. It’s just a bit of rain. So what if my teeth feel like they’re going to chatter out of my head. A little water never hurt anyone.
Floods, hurricanes, and drowning all come to mind. Jesus…
Since when have I been such a whiner? I lower my chin and look at the ground. So long as I can see the sidewalk, I can make my way home. A shiver travels down my spine, quickly causing my entire body to shake. Come on…one foot in front of the other. Think of the toasty bath you’ll take when you get home.
That’s if I don’t catch my death out here. Have I always been this stubborn, or is it new? The image of a particularly stubborn man crosses my mind. God, I hope he’s not rubbing off on me.
I scrunch my nose, thinking about my choices lately. Dressing up like my brother, sneaking into the Vault, where being caught could lead to being literally executed, only to be caught by Bash, who just so happens to be a Lord in the Order of Saints. Proceeding to agree to pretend to be his girlfriend. Then have sex with him…
Okay, so maybe my judgment has been off lately. Still, once I pay off the Salvatore Organization and Nikolai’s safely back, I can put all of this behind me. My days of sneaking into buildings and hiding in closets will be over.
A knot forms in my gut, and my eyes prickle. I sniff, nose running from the rain. There’s no way I’m going to miss him. None. Nada. Absolutely zilch.
I’m just frozen and want to go home.
“Anastasia.” My name cuts through the wall of water moments before Bash comes into view. “What the hell are you doing? Why didn’t you call the driver?” His words are clipped but soft, like he’s trying to hold back his worry.
“I…I…” My jaw trembles too hard to form words.
His warm arms wrap around me, tucking my head under his chin as his umbrella protects us. He rubs his hands up and down my arms and along my back. The friction and heat from his hands aren’t enough.
“Jesus Christ, Stasia. What happened to your shoe?” he says, then lifts me into the air, cradling me to his body. I give in, curling myself into his chest and grabbing his coat. If I could meld myself into him, I would.
He grumbles under his breath about crazy women as he approaches his car, parked half on half off the curve. The flashing four-way lights illuminate the ground around them in rapid blinks.
I go to get out of his arms as we approach, but he growls, stilling me. “I dare you to move.”
It’s low and rough and sends heat between my thighs.
Bash swings open the passenger door and sets me down on the heated seat before rounding the car and getting in on his side.
My teeth are audibly clicking together as I try to warm my trembling hands in front of the air vent. At this point, I think it’s fair to say I was thoroughly and embarrassingly wrong.
Bash cranks the temperature higher, then stares at me, one brow raised in question. “Well?”
“I…I…m-made a mistake.” I can barely get the words out. I’m shaking so hard.
“Fuck.” It’s not cruel or harsh; instead, that one syllable is laced with panic as he hauls me onto his lap.“You’re killing me here.”
“You’re getting wet.” I try to push off him, but his hand grips my waist, banding me in place.
“Are you kidding me right now? You’re worried about me getting a little wet when you’re shaking so hard I’m worried your teeth are going to break? Have some mercy on me and take care of yourself.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “I’m not cut out for worrying. It’s bad for my image.” Amusement infuses the end of his sentence, and I bite back my smirk.
Sebastian “doesn’t give a fuck about anything” Everette, out here fretting about me.
Struggling to take off my coat, Bash helps me remove the wet fabric that’s suctioned itself to me. It’s a little warmer without it now that the hot air is able to reach my skin.
My head tilts to the side when I’m finally free. “How did you find me anyway?”
“I tracked your phone,” he deadpans without an ounce of apology.
I give up. “You know what? I’m not even mad.”
A slow smirk lifts the corner of his lip, clearly enjoying my answer. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, and his arm bands around my waist. Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped me into the passenger seat, adjusting it back before climbing over me. His hardness rests along my clit as he bends my knees forward toward my ears.
I push my palm into his pec, shoving him back. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you warm, what does it look like?”
“We’re outside. Someone could see,” I protest.
He cants his head, the movement oddly animallike. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover you.” His rough thumb rubs along my abdomen, his hand tightening around me in possession. “No one’s going to see you naked but me.”
The rain’s still pounding down around us, providing a screen of privacy. I’ve obviously lost my mind because I shift, making room for him to raise my shirt. Goose bumps rise over my exposed breasts, and I gasp when Bash flattens his tongue, running it along the seam of my bra. The sound I make should be embarrassing, but I’m too enraptured in his touch to care.
His gray eyes are dark as he watches me, waiting for my move. I don’t waste time, pulling him toward me by the back of his neck and connecting my mouth with his. Our tongues swirl together, and I moan deep in my throat as he sucks on mine hard. There’s a desperation to him that has me clinging to him. His mouth masters mine in a variation of slow, deep kisses, mixed with sharp teeth biting my bruised lip.
He maneuvers so I’m folded in on myself and guides my pants and underwear to below my knees, leaving my lower half exposed beneath him. The way he adjusts me gives him a full view of my pussy. He hums, and his tongue travels over his top teeth.
I should feel vulnerable, but his intense gaze has me spreading my legs wider, wanting him to see more of me.
“Such a pretty pussy, Princess,”he says as he runs his thumb through my slit. It glides easily, and his demeanor darkens as he raises his hand and sucks my wetness. “You taste so fucking good.”
He opens his mouth, and his spit pools from his lips into the palm. Shock ripples through me, replaced with lust as he fills me with two fingers. I instinctively rock into him, and he lowers his face, murmuring into my ear. “You’re so greedy. Your pussy’s already clenching around me, begging for more. That’s what you want, right? More?”
His words are like hot liquid filling my veins. My pulse pounds into my ears, making his voice the only thing I can hear.
“It’s not enough though, is it? You want my cock stretching you wide and filling you deep. Fuck, Stasia.” He presses another finger into me and grinds his palm over my clit. I’m rocking against him, chasing my orgasm.
“Yes, please. Yes.” I’m so close that I cry and dig my nails into his back when he removes his hand. It feels like torture having him remove his touch.
I hadn’t noticed him taking out his length, but he’s pressing the tip to my entrance. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
Thank God. I nod, and his eyes never leave mine as he fills me. The sensation is overwhelming, and my head tips back. “It…it feels good. So good.”
“Fuck.” He groans low.
He pulls back and thrusts hard, sending a ripple of pleasure through me. His pace is brutal as he seems to lose any semblance of control he had left. Sex with Bash is rough, untamed, like the very touch of me has him coming undone. I love it.
I raise my hips, and he growls as he goes deeper. He thrusts with a pounding force that steals my thoughts until all I can feel is ecstasy.
“Stasia. You’re so tight.” His movements grow uneven. “Come with me, baby.”
As if his words commanded me, the orgasm he’s been stoking rips through me with a thundering force. He pulls out, fisting his length and spurting hot cum over my stomach.
I’m barely coherent as he wipes me off. “This wasn’t the plan.”
I want to ask him what the plan was, but I’m light-headed from breathing so hard. He replaces my underwear but drops my pants to the floor. I expect him to move to his seat; what I don’t anticipate is for Bash to bring me with him. I’m seated across his lap, my feet in the passenger chair with his arms bracketing me.
“You can’t drive like this.” I go to lift up, but he stops me.
“You’re going to have to deal with it because I can’t let you go.”
He holds me with one arm and steers the few remaining blocks to his house with the other. I try to get off him, but he swoops me into his arms and carries me inside. He must have remotely turned the heat up because it’s warm when we enter. I relax into him, giving up on any resistance, too tired to care as he rushes up the stairs and into our room.
Bash turns on the tub, then takes controlled steps until he crowds me, fingers running along the edge of his coat in unhurried movements. “Let’s take this off.”
There’s a magnetic pull toward him that I know I should stop. “I can do this myself. Thank you for bringing me home.”
“What are you shy now?”
That freaking smirk.
I press my palms against his chest, but there’s no strength in them. “I said I’m fine.”
“Princess, you are shaking so hard I’m afraid to let go of you. You are not fine .”
Bash’s knuckles graze a few inches beneath his coat, resting on my shoulder. It’s sweet and soft, breaking down the barrier I’m trying to put between us. If he keeps touching me like this…
“I won’t look if you don’t want me to?” he murmurs into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. His fingers span my waist as they make their way up. My chest expands as they graze the underside of my breast.
“Liar,” I whisper. There’s an ache deep inside me as I wait for his touch.
A low rumble forms in the back of his throat. “I’m trying to be good here.”
His white shirt is plastered to his chest. The curve and indents of his pecs are visible through the see-through fabric. My mouth waters, and I’m no longer cold. Instead, heat is coursing through my veins, converging between my thighs until my clit aches. My restraint snaps, and I undo each of his buttons, revealing more and more of his tanned skin. I’m frantically pushing it off his shoulders, then working at his belt. I don’t care what’s taken over me; the only thing that matters right now is him.
Bash stills my hands with his own. “Easy. I’m not going anywhere.”
I look at my feet as embarrassment takes over. What the hell am I doing? “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to.”
He grabs my hand and presses it against him, making it clear just how much he wants me. “I’m fucking dying for you, Princess. But I’m more worried about you catching pneumonia. So let’s get you in the tub, shall we? Let me do this for you, Stasia. Let me take care of you.”
My gaze travels up his face until I meet his gaze. It’s not the frantic hunger I expected but a deep pool of warmth that’s beckoning me to get lost in it, promising everything will be okay.
Let me take care of you. The words settle in my chest as a seed grows. There’s been a bone-deep guilt inside me, one that reminds me that I hurt the ones I love, that I don’t deserve the people around me. But Bash…the way he looks at me…the sincerity in his voice…has that little seed opening. His request is so simple, but it feels so much bigger than this moment. Like if I just lean against him, everything will change.
I’m scared.
Bash grazes his thumb over my cheek. His calming strokes run along my neck, settling my racing thoughts. He doesn’t repeat himself, not pushing me any further than I want to go.
Just this once…just this once, I want to sink into him and let him take everything away.
“Okay.” I swallow, unable to meet his eyes in case he really can read my mind.
Bash’s smile is brilliant, like he’d just received a gift he’s been waiting for as he guides his coat from my shoulders, the heavy fabric falling to the floor. He takes care to remove the rest of the thin fabric still clinging to me until I’m standing in front of him naked, goose bumps raised along my skin.
He barely kicked off his shoes before lifting me into the air and entering the tub with me in his arms.
“What are you doing?” I gasp as I’m submerged under the hot water.
Bash shifts me so I’m nestled between his knees, and his chin rests on my shoulder.
“You’re cold.” His voice is low, breath fanning over my temple, his words so matter-of-fact I could almost believe it’s normal to get into a bath fully dressed.
“You’re insane,” I say out of habit, but there’s no edge to my voice. I’m being sucked under by this man, and for now, I don’t intend to stop it. The warm water and his heat surrounding me finally eliminate the last of the chill that was clinging to me.
I try to ignore the way the rough fabric of his shirt and pants makes every inch of where we touch more sensitive.
Bash ignores my taunt as he lifts the shower wand and turns on the tap, taking several seconds to get the temperature right. He tilts my chin back with his thumb and forefinger, rinsing my hair under the warm stream. I’m frozen in place as he washes my strands, his fingers massaging my scalp and delicately running through the ends.
As he works, he murmurs a meaningless stream of conversation, from what he had for dinner to how his coffee tasted burnt this morning. The mundane topics and his deep, soothing tone coax me until I’m resting against him, languid in his arms.
The cloth slips where he’s washing my thigh, and the end brushes my clit. It was barely a graze, but it has embers crackling, growing within my core as every inch of him beneath me seems to imprint on my skin.
Bash hums low in his throat, the sensation vibrating through my shoulder blades. He does it again, this time intentionally, and a slight moan escapes my lips.
His fingers tighten over my thigh momentarily before releasing. His voice is gravelly when he says, “Princess, look at me.”
As if compelled, I twist, my inhale cutting off when I meet his gaze. The air around us is heavy, a seriousness taking over as emotions I’ve been burying start to rise. His gray eyes reach into me, making promises I’m not ready to decode.
The distance between our mouths closes until his breaths fan against my mouth. I want this…it’s a truth that settles deep inside me as I close the distance between us. His lips are soft as they press against mine, seducing them open and deepening the kiss.
If our kiss earlier was a crash of desperation, this one is a slow descent into need. Our tongues dance together as our shallow breaths merge. Each touch of his fingers along my back is a drawn-out caress, like he’s taking his time memorizing my every curve.
He shifts us so my face rests against his chest, nestled below his collarbone, and continues his path over my skin. Tingles erupt where Bash’s thumb brushes my inner thigh, each sweep lower than the last. It’s torturously slow. Every nerve ending, every molecule, every fiber of my being is focused on the barely there pressure, tension pulsing in my clit until it feels like I’ll come apart the second he grazes it.
I let out a frustrated huff, and he chuckles, pressing his mouth against my forehead. There’s a current, alive under my skin, one that isn’t above begging.
“I’ll always take care of you,” he murmurs.
It’s a promise, and my heart aches, but he silences my thoughts when his fingers slip between my folds. He touches me as if he knows me, a book he’s already memorized, as if he already owns me.
My orgasm builds over and over until it crashes like a wave into a cliff. I’m drowning in it, the never-ending pulses holding me underwater, unable to breathe. He strokes my neck, arm, back, helping me come down from my high.
Bash kisses my forehead. “You are my addiction, Anastasia. I hope you’re ready for what that means.”