Chapter 8 #3
“I thought you didn’t like labels.” I look up at him, trying to not show how much his comment means to me or how quickly I’m forgetting all the bad about him and only seeing the good.
He gives me another wink. “I like them on you.”
A pleasant shiver runs through my body at his words. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t figure him out. I can’t understand how he can be so violent and so unbelievably sweet. How can one person contain such polar opposites inside themselves?
Before we walk into the building, he stops and presses a soft kiss to my furrowed brow. “You won’t be able to work it out, my little Cyn. Spare yourself the headache and stop trying.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I just do. I’ve been trying to figure myself out for over twenty years and I’m no closer to an answer now than I was when I first realized something was off. Believe me, Cyn, when I say it’s a lost cause and it’ll only leave you frustrated.”
“We’re not done talking about this,” I warn him, knowing he’s just opened himself up to me in a way that he probably doesn’t do for others, and as much as I want to pepper him with questions, I don’t want to do it while we stand outside the dorms. I also don’t want to push things too far and make him uncomfortable.
“When you put your foot down, it’s pretty damn cute, krovinka.”
“You still haven’t told me what that word means.”
“No, I haven’t.”
He laughs at my frustrated sigh and takes my hand so he can pull me inside.
When we’re in my room, he tosses my bag onto my bed and cups my face, tilting me up as he leans down and kisses me again.
Just like every time his body is pressed against mine, I forget about everything else.
Sasha is so all-consuming that it makes it impossible to hold anything else in my mind.
When he makes an appearance, everything else gets shoved aside.
His masculine groan nearly does me in as he cups the back of my head and slowly nudges my legs so I’m walking backwards, clearing the small distance to the bed in seconds.
He gives my bottom lip a soft bite before he hooks one hand under my ass and lifts me up before gently laying me back on the bed that’s not nearly big enough for the two of us.
“Sasha,” I start to say, unsure of how far I want to take this.
He lifts his head so he can look down at me. Supporting his weight on one arm, he runs his fingers along my face like he’s memorizing every detail of it. “Don’t worry, Cyn. This isn’t where we have our first time.”
“It’s not?”
“No, krovinka. You think I would take you right here on this bed that my feet hang off of by a foot and with a roommate who could walk in at any second?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I start to say, feeling stupid for even thinking it.
His thumb runs along my blushing cheek. “Don’t think for one second that I don’t want to, though.
Sliding into you is all I can fucking think about, but I’m not sharing you, not with neighbors who can hear you, not with someone who might see something if the door is opened.
Every inch of you is mine, every scream from your lips is mine.
You are mine, and I won’t share, not one goddamn part of you. ”
The fierce look in his eyes mixed with the territorial growl of his words makes it clear that he’s already laid his claim on me. Maybe it shouldn’t make me as happy as it does, but there’s no denying that I like the idea of belonging to this man.
As long as it’s mutual.
Reaching up, I brush aside a strand of dark hair off his forehead before tracing a finger along his dark brow. “And what about people seeing you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not the only one who’s feeling possessive,” I say. He grins at my words as my fingers caress the side of his face. “I don’t want anyone seeing you either. No one gets any part of you but me.”
“I see my girl’s feeling territorial.” The words send a thrill through me as he kisses a line down my jaw and along my neck. His teeth graze my skin before he whispers, “I am yours, krovinka. I hope you don’t ever grow to hate that I am.”
“Why would I do that?”
His tongue runs along my throat, causing a relentless throb between my legs and an ache to my breasts as my nipples harden, begging for the wet heat of his mouth.
“Because I can’t change who I am.” His whispers the words like a confession against my skin. “Not even for you, my little Cyn. There’s no changing what’s inside me.”
I’m about to tell him that I don’t want to change a single thing about him, but he chooses that exact moment to bite the crook of my neck and slowly slide his hand under my shirt, grazing his fingers along my side.
My whole body freezes, not because I don’t like it but because I’m afraid he’s not going to like what he finds.
“What’s wrong?” He lifts up to meet my eyes again. “I just want to feel your skin. Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I say, and then look away from his gorgeous face when I add, “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Disappointed by what? I don’t understand.”
Ignoring how embarrassed I am, I quickly say, “Because I’m soft.”
“Why would I want you to be hard?”
He seems so genuinely confused that I can’t even get frustrated at having to explain it in greater detail. “I’m bigger than a lot of the other girls. I don’t look like Brittney. I don’t have a flat, toned stomach or small thighs. I’m just,” I give up and gesture towards my body and say, “bigger.”
“Yeah, so?” When I just stare at him, he says, “I’m not even going to pretend to understand what you’re trying to tell me.
I know what you look like, Cyn. I have eyes.
I can see you, I can feel you against me right now, and I gotta say, I fucking love it.
I don’t want you hard.” His fingers graze my side again. “I like you soft.”
To prove his point, he moves, positioning himself so I can feel the hard length of him against my thigh. His fingers dance along my stomach. “You feel what you do to me?”
“Yes.” The word is a whisper between us, and when he drags his fingers higher, grazing right under my bra, I suck in a quick breath, hoping like hell he won’t stop.
“You’re the only woman who’s ever made me hard, Cyn,” he says, repeating what he’d said the other night, but I still find it nearly impossible to believe. “So, yeah, I like you soft. I love your curves, I love your thighs, your stomach, your ass, and your tits. I’m obsessed with every part of you.”
I’m as drunk on his words as I am by his touch, and when he ghosts his fingers over the curve of my body, it takes me a second to realize he’s tracing the lines of my ribs.
I’m about to ask if we’ve discovered another one of his kinks, but before I can, he lifts my shirt and lowers his head.
Going over the path his fingers had just made, he kisses a line beneath my bra, following the natural curve of my body until he’s at my side and nipping gently at my skin.
I thread my fingers through his thick, dark hair, marveling at how soft the strands are and how good it feels to be able to reach out and touch him like this.
I’m not going to kid myself into thinking I know everything about this man, but I do know he doesn’t let people in.
For whatever reason he’s decided to make an exception for me.
I’m not going to waste the gift he’s giving me, because in my heart that’s exactly what this is.
He’s letting me get close to him, letting me see a side that he doesn’t often share.
Maybe it shouldn’t make me feel special, but it does.
“My little Cyn,” he murmurs as he licks and sucks and nips his way along my rib cage. After a few more seconds of the sweetest kind of torture, he sighs and lifts up, resting his weight on his forearms as he looks down at me.
The intensity of his stare makes it impossible to look away.
He looks ravenous, like he’s imagining everything he wants to do to me in great detail, but there’s also a glimmer of violence in his light-blue eyes.
I’m beginning to understand that with Sasha there will always be a tinge of violence to everything he does.
“We need to leave this room, krovinka.”
“We do?” I ask. “Because I think we’re pretty good right where we’re at.”
He grins and lets his fingers fist around my hair. “If we stay here, you’re going to end up naked, and I can’t risk your annoying roommate walking in and seeing what is for my eyes only. Plus, you need to eat. You skipped lunch earlier, remember?”
I grin at the memory of him pressing me up against the science building and kissing me senseless. I usually take the thirty minutes I have between classes and grab a quick bite to eat, but I’d wanted him more than I’d wanted food, and I don’t regret my decision.
“You skipped lunch, too,” I remind him.
“I’d rather have my fill of you,” he says.
“Then why are we leaving?”
He exhales a soft laugh and runs a finger down my cheek. “Because I don’t trust myself to be alone with you right now.”
His eyes run over me before he sighs and forces himself to stand. Before he helps me up, he readjusts himself and then arches a brow at me. “I had no idea how fucking annoying it would be to get hard so often.”
My eyes run over him, landing on the sizable bulge that’s still very noticeable. “If you were smaller, it’d be easier to hide.”
His smile is contagious when he gives me a wink and says, “Sorry, krovinka, but there’s nothing small about me.”
My breath hitches at his words, the obvious warning about the pain that will soon be headed my way, and the obvious delight he’s going to take in it. Figuring we’ll cross that particularly thick and heavy bridge when we get to it, I take the hand he offers and let him help me out of bed.
“So what are you in the mood for? I know a place nearby that makes a really good cheeseburger.”
When I hesitate, he says, “Or we could get something else. Do you like steak?”