43. Anastasia
Chapter 43
Anastasia
Bash opens the passenger door, and I cross my arms. “I’m not going in there with you.”
We’re in front of his house. This bastard whistled throughout the drive home as I did my best to freeze him out. I swear I’ve never seen him happier. There isn’t a word strong enough for how infuriating he is.
“Come on, Princess. Don’t be that way.” He reaches in and unbuckles my seat belt. It’s not lost on either of us that I don’t stop him. Within seconds, I’m lifted into his arms and being carried inside. The two guards stationed at the front do everything they can to look anywhere but at us as Bash carries me into his house.
The second the door closes behind us, he swings me off his shoulder and pins my back to the wall. My toes can’t reach the ground, and I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him. He doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the position and presses his hard length against my core.
I whimper as he rocks again, the sensation sending pleasure between my thighs, but I won’t let him off that easy.
I dig my nails into his shoulders and shove him back. “You betrayed me.”
“I love you.” He reaches a hand back and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the red crescents from my nails.
I groan internally at the sight of his flexed muscles, my core already growing wet. “You can’t.”
Bash reaches between us and brings my hurt palm to his mouth, grazing a kiss just to the side of the sore. “I do. I love you.”
“I don’t love you.” I meet his eyes, searching for any tell, but all I see is warmth.
“Marry me, Stasia.”
My head yanks back, connecting with the wall, and I wince. He rubs it in soft motions until the ache dissipates.
“That’s enough of that. You aren’t allowed to hurt yourself anymore.”
“I…” I cut my words off, not sure what I can say. He’s saying everything that I’ve ever wanted to hear.
“I love you,” he reaffirms.
I shake my head, needing him to tell me one more time. To wash away any doubt remaining before I let my body take over. “I never know what to believe. You’re always kidding.”
“I’m never kidding when it comes to you. You may not like how I caught you, but there’s never been any other ending for us. I have always been your future husband.” He states it as fact, no room for disagreement, and the tight knot in my stomach finally uncoils.
It’s complete stupidity to fall for him after everything, but it’s way too late now.
I crash my mouth to his, eating his low moan as I deepen the kiss. My lungs burn by the time we pull away, our lips still pressed together.
“I love you.” I can feel his smile.
Words form at the back of my throat, but I swallow them down.
His eyes search mine, his touch turning gentle.
“I’ll wait,” he says, then rocks his length against my clit, stealing my every thought.
Our movements turn hurried as we tug each other closer, our hands moving in frantic, hurried motions. I can still taste the blood from where I bit him, and he groans when I run my tongue across it. There’s nothing soft about our touch. It’s turned into a needy, wild thing, one that demands all of our senses.
My back arches, my head pushing into the wall, as he grips my ass, better positioning me to thrust against my core. I despise the material between us, craving to feel his heat against me. He hums approvingly at the back of his throat as I undo his belt, pushing the button through. My arms are pulled away when Bash lifts my shirt, forcing them into the air. They’re tangled in the fabric, and he pins them to the surface behind me.
I gasp as he sucks my nipple through my bra, his teeth grazing the sensitive tip. I struggle to free my arms, wanting to pull him closer.
Bash tears my bra in the middle and groans as he gains access, his mouth devouring me. It’s hot and wet, the sensation going right to my clit. I rock against him, all of my movements uncontrolled as I search for more.
His chuckles are soft against my skin. “Your reactions are so fucking sexy. I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
“Good,” I reply.
His eyes grow black, his playfulness switching to a deviousness I’m familiar with. One that I crave. This is the Bash who makes me come undone.
“Do whatever you want with me.” My voice is shaky, but I don’t take it back.
“Fuck.” He groans and lifts me from the wall, carrying me to the room. “You won’t be able to take that back.”
I clutch his shoulders, barely maintaining any semblance of sanity. There’s a warning in his tone, but I want whatever he has to give. I want exactly what he’s promised. I want him to own me.
Bash divests us of our clothes, leaving them in a trail to the bed, and crawls on top of me as my back meets the mattress.
His shoulders are hot under my palms, the sting from my rope burn long forgotten. Rough fingers trail over my sides and down my navel before pausing just above my clit. A whimper escapes me, and I squirm to get closer. His snarl curls up my neck, where he’s pressed his face as he strokes through my folds.
“You are so fucking wet. So fucking ready for me.” He circles my clit, causing my eyes to roll back, before sinking two fingers into my pussy.
My breath catches as he works them in and out, sending pleasure rippling around them.
I whine when he pulls his hand away, sucking them into his mouth. “Fucking delicious.”
His cock’s against my core as he leans down and takes my mouth with his, my taste still on his tongue. Our kiss is all desperate nips and sucks as we each struggle for more. I’m practically begging for him to shift lower and drive into me, but he doesn’t give me what I want, instead placing open-mouth kisses down my jaw and neck, traveling down my breasts, leaving a wet path to my core.
I’m shaking by the time he lifts my thighs over his wide shoulders, spreading me wide. I feel vulnerable beneath his gaze, completely exposed to him, but it’s burned away when he looks up at me through narrowed eyes, an animalistic hunger clear in them as he licks my clit.
I cry out, the sensation overwhelming as pleasure courses through me. He doesn’t look away as he devours me, circling his tongue over and over my clit as he brings me closer to my orgasm. Just as I’m about to come, he moves, lowering to my entrance.
He chuckles at my frustration, but it’s cut off as he delves his tongue deep inside of me. My eyes roll back as I grind into him and grip his hair in my fist. I hiss at the pain, and he grabs my injured hand and pins it to the bed beside me, nipping my clit in punishment.
“I told you not to hurt yourself,” he growls.
“I need more,” I plead, desperate for my release.
Bash groans and sucks my clit as he delves two fingers, fucking them into me. Pleasure ripples down my spine, and it builds and builds as every muscle in my body clenches. He adds another finger, curling them into the sensitive part of my core, and I cry out as my orgasm ripples through me.
I collapse, gasping as my release continues to pulse. He draws it out longer with his soft touches until I flinch away, too sensitive for any more. Bash places sweet kisses along my hip bone as I come down from my high, still dizzy from breathing so hard. Or was I holding my breath?
He never fails to make me lose myself, forgetting any worry or guilt I’ve ever held. All that matters is him, touching me…loving me.
Warmth builds in my chest, and my ribs expand. This man is promising me with both his words and his body. I look down, and he’s smirking at me.
“Don’t look so proud of yourself.”
Bash might as well be the Cheshire cat for how hard he’s grinning. “No promises.”
His hand shifts between my legs, and I squeal as he runs his fingers through my overly sensitive core, dragging my wetness from my clit all the way back. I jerk when he presses down on my back hole. His dark eyes meet mine, and he does it again.
It feels good and wrong at the same time. I quiver as he swirls his fingers and promises, “I’m going to take you here. I’m going to make every inch of you mine.”
I swallow hard, knowing it’s more than just a promise.
He moves his tongue to my clit, following the same path as his fingers press into my ass, agonizingly slow, melting my mind until I’m pressing against him, the need for more taking over. He groans in the back of his throat as he pushes his pinky finger into me, sucking my clit hard, leaving nothing but pleasure.
I’ve never thought I’d want this before, but I’m suddenly dying for his touch. His promise sends tingles prickling along my skin. With each of his movements, I grow more desperate as he builds another orgasm. This one’s deeper, like he’s trying to pull it from my very soul.
I’m shaking by the time he sinks two fingers into my core, pleasure erupting through me like an explosion.
“That’s it, baby. Come all over my hand. Come picturing me fucking your ass.”
Another release rocks through me, and my vision goes white with the force.
Bash is stroking my cheek when I finally come down. “Breathe. You’ve got to breathe, Stasia.”
I take a breath, too out of it to do anything but listen. At this point, he’s in full control.
“You are such a good girl.” He shifts over me and notches his head to my entrance, sinking into me before I can process what’s happening. I’m stretched wide, barely able to take him as he grows even larger, filling every inch of me until the only thing I can think of is his touch.
Bash’s cupping my chin, his movements slow as he enters me tenderly. “I love you, Anastasia.”
His mouth is soft and warm as he kisses me gently, as he takes his time memorizing the contours of my mouth. His thrusts are slow and controlled as if he knows he has all the time in the world. Every time he enters me, it feels like he’s confessing his love. His lids are hooded as he takes me in slow, easy movements, carefully stoking a flame within me, building another orgasm. It shouldn’t be possible to come this many times, but he won’t stop until he’s wrung out every last ounce of pleasure.
As my release grows, I grow restless, needing more to bring me over the edge. My hips shift, and I hook my heels behind Bash’s thighs, yanking him toward me. He growls low in his throat, biting my neck.
“If you do that, I’ll come right away.”
Giddiness bubbles in my chest at the thought of making this man lose control. I grind myself down, forcing him deeper.
He stills on top of me, his breaths coming out ragged before sitting up so he’s kneeling and lifting my ass off the bed. “I warned you.”
His hips snap into me with a pounding force. I can’t do anything but take it as he thrusts into me over and over, claiming me. My pussy clenches as another release threatens to break me apart. I scrape my nails down his chest, and it drives him harder.
I’m crying out his name as he rips another orgasm from me. His movements turn jerky as he growls, spurting hot cum into my core.
He collapses on top of me, careful not to crush me with all of his weight, and nuzzles my neck. “I love you so fucking much.”
We stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing each other’s air. I want to believe all of this is real. That I can have everything I want. That I deserve it. The doorbell rings, and Bash groans.
“This better be important, or I’m going to kill them.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed, twisting to bring the covers up to my neck and tuck them around me. He places a delicate kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
His back muscles flex as he puts on a pair of dark gray jogging pants that curve around his ass perfectly. Honestly, I’ve never been a butt girl, but I think I’ve been converted. His hair’s messy from where I ran my fingers through it, and he’s wearing a sleepy smile.
“You keep looking at me like that, Princess, and I’m going to crawl back into bed.” His voice is a low rasp.
My mouth waters, and his eyes track my tongue as I wet my bottom lip. Just as he takes a step toward me, the doorbell rings again.
His jaw ticks, and his gaze is slitted with annoyance. “Hold that thought.”
I laugh as he rushes out of the room, not wanting to waste a single second. My thoughts are clear without him here, but where I expect doubt and anger at the way he’d tricked me, all I feel is warmth. Sebastian Everette, Lord of the Order of Saints, loves me. I scoot up the bed and rest my back against the headboard while I wait. There’s a giddiness bubbling up my stomach, and I can’t contain my smile when he appears, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the hallway.
His gaze roams over my face, and he grins. “Marry me.”
I roll my eyes, not willing to risk speaking, the action only encouraging him more.
“Silent treatment? That hurts.” He kneels to the side of the bed, tall enough that he’s only a few inches below me. That’s when I notice the two boxes he’s holding, one tin and the other a smooth black.
I lift my chin toward them. “What’s that?”
“These? The only reason Xander isn’t dead.” Bash opens the white tin, revealing medical supplies. It’s some kind of medical kit, and it’s fully stocked. I don’t even want to know why they’d need to have this.
“Let’s see your hand.” I reach out, and he holds it delicately in his, sucking a breath through his teeth. “Fuck, Stas. I should have been more careful.”
“I didn’t notice at the time,” I admit.
His eyes glint, and he bites the corner of his lip. “I’m doing my best to behave here.”
I’m about to tell him not to when he brings a cloth to my palm.
“This is going to sting a little.” He looks apologetic as he dabs it over the red skin. I flinch but stay as still as possible.
He blows softly on my palm, cooling it.
“That’s the hard part,” he says, grabbing a small tube of ointment and covering my wound. “This has a numbing agent, so it should help.”
There’s a crease between his brows as he concentrates, and he meticulously wraps a bandage around my hand. His movements are slow and controlled, as if he’s holding something delicate.
Once it’s wrapped, he turns it over and kisses my knuckles, looking up through his lashes. “I love you. Marry me.”
There’s a seriousness to his words and the way he’s holding himself, making it clear this is an actual proposal.
“You hurt me,” I whisper back, even though all my fight has been drained out. If his plan was to fuck it out of me, it worked.
Bash wraps his arms around me, whispering into my ear. “I know. I’m sorry.”
I nuzzle into his chest and lie. “I don’t believe you.”
His thumb draws calming circles over my back. “Give me your command, and I’ll make it happen.”
He says it with so much confidence there’s no doubt he means it.
I pull back and meet his gaze. “Get my brother back and destroy the Russians.”
There’s a wicked smile in his voice.
“My fucking pleasure, Princess,” he says and places the Kokoshnik Tiara on my head.