Chapter 9 The Point of No Return #2
"Are you sure?" he asks against my lips, and the careful control in his voice tells me how much this is costing him.
Am I sure?
Sure that I want him? Yes. Sure that this won't complicate everything? No. Sure that I'm making the right choice? I have no idea.
But I'm sure that I'm tired of being afraid. Tired of the other options.
"Yes," I whisper. "I'm sure."
That makes something change in his eyes. When he stands and extends his hand, I take it without hesitation.
He leads me toward the bedroom, and with every step, I feel more certain that whatever happens next will change everything. That there's no going back from this moment.
That I don't want to go back.
The bedroom is dimly lit, while Mikhail closes the door behind us with quiet finality.
"Last chance," he says, and I can see him fighting for control. "Once we cross this line---"
"There's no going back." I step closer, until we're almost touching. "I know."
"Mariana---"
I silence him with a kiss, pouring two years of suppressed attraction into the contact. He responds immediately, his arms coming around me like he's been waiting for permission to claim me completely.
Like he's been waiting for me to choose him.
And I am doing it. Not just for tonight, but for whatever comes after. For the dangerous possibility of a future that includes both of us still together in the long term, long enough to fall in love.
Love.
For the first time, that word means something to me.
The room becomes a blur of movement—cloth, breath, the sound of lust returning in waves. Our world narrowed to rhythm and heartbeat. Each kiss draws me deeper until the line between surrender and choice disappears entirely.
His mouth meet mine forcefully. He's being rough and dominant and so incredibly attractive that I lose track of my thoughts. His wide, hard thigh rubbed against mine and if my eyes weren't already closed, they would roll around inside my head.
Mikhail's lips moved along my jaw, until his teeth grazed the cord of my neck and I can't help but moan.
My hips began to move on his thigh.
Then his lips met mine again, as if playtime was over.
The latent fire that started in my center became unbearable when he moved his body, lifting me until I wrap my legs around his waist, simulating thrusts above the clothes in a back and forth movement that managed to drive me crazy until I annulled my consciousness.
His hands find the hem of my tank top, and I lift my arms to let him pull it over my head. The move leaves me bare from the waist up, and the way he looks at me - like I'm something beautiful instead of something to be conquered - makes me feel more confident than afraid.
And next thing I know, he unclasped my bra to kiss my body until his lips circle my nipple while his hand pinches the other.
And for once, all I can do is feel.
"Oh, that's so good."
He laughs against my skin. "Am I going too fast?"
I look at his face, his lips an inch from my hardened nipple. "No, please don't stop."
"Beautiful," he murmurs, tracing the curve of my collarbone with reverent fingers. “Perfect.”
His hand slips from my chest down. He grabs my hands and lifts them above my head. "Hands up, and don’t move, little wolf". His eyes met mine, motionless until I nodded slightly. "Good girl."
My breathing quickens even more as his hands slowly but firmly travel up my arms, over my breasts, and hook into the waistband of my sleep shorts, pulling them down, exposing me completely on his bed.
He is still dressed, still in control, and I’m loving every second of it.
"Open them, beautiful."
And I feel beautiful. Perfect. I didn't realize how long I've gone without that feeling, without all this confidence, but the way he's touching me makes me believe it might be true.
Mikhail lowers his head, inhaling deeply before licking, sucking, kissing and nibbling on my arousal, increasing it.
My fingers find his hair, sliding through the strands.
"Ah, ah..."
My thighs tighten and I feel the heat spreading under my skin, ribbons of pleasure growing and growing...
"Oh, God. I'm…” Arching my back, my heels dug into his back. "Ahhh…," I sob, my lungs finally inflating and spots appearing in my vision. My body and mind go in a blank state.
I barely register his soft kisses running over my body.
My fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, and when I push it off his shoulders, I'm struck again by the contrast between his elegant exterior and the evidence of violence written across his skin.
Even knowing what to expect from our earlier encounter, seeing him like this - powerful and completely focused on me - sends heat spiraling through my core.
Beautiful and dangerous.
"Say it again," I demand, tracing one of the scars near his ribs.
"Say what?"
"That I'm beautiful, and perfect."
His laugh is low and rich. "You're magnificent. Fierce. Intelligent. Brave."
Brave. Maybe that's what this is. Not stupidity or desperation, but courage. The courage to choose something different, although uncertain.
When he lifts me onto the bed, his touch is gentle despite the strength I can feel in his hands. This is what I never expected from the man I thought I know - tenderness. Care.
He makes me feel cherished.
"I've imagined this," he admits, pressing kisses along my throat. "Imagined having you in my bed, being able to touch you without pretending I didn't want to."
"Tell me more."
His mouth finds the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and the contact makes me arch against him. "Taking you apart slowly. Learning what makes you gasp, what makes you beg. Showing you exactly how much I've wanted you."
The words combined with the scrape of his teeth against my skin are making me wet between my thighs.
"Then show me," I breathe.
It seems to click something in him, and I feel it in everything: in his touch, in his breathing, in his hold. He's been holding back, and I sense the exact moment he stops, when he lets go.
Possessiveness, longing, fear of loss, suppressed passion; his body seems to betray all these feelings without the need for words, only through his touch, speaking with his body to mine.
“Remember you asked for it, little wolf.”
The seductively sinister smile that follows his statement turns out to be the most accurate warning I’ve ever received.
We lie tangled together in sheets that smell like sex and possibility. My head rests on his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing from the frantic rhythm it maintained while he showed me exactly how thorough his imagination had been.
Holy hell.
I knew he'd be skilled - a man doesn't reach forty-two without learning how to please a woman. But this was different. This was worship. A long wait channeled into making me come apart in his hands until I was boneless and breathless.
Claimed. That's exactly how I feel.
And he belongs to me too.
"Any regrets?" he asks quietly, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare shoulder.
"Only that we waited this long."
His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "If we'd done this two years ago, you would have arrested me afterward."
"If we'd done this two years ago, I would have been too busy planning round two to remember I was supposed to arrest you."
Round two. The thought makes heat unfurl in my core despite the fact that he just spent an hour turning my body into liquid fire.
"Is that an invitation?"
"It's a statement of fact." I lift my head to look at him, noting the satisfied expression on his face. "You look pleased with yourself."
"I should. I just made Special Agent Mariana Castillo scream my name loudly enough that if I had neighbors, they would have already called to complain.
" He pauses, a slight smile playing at his lips.
"Though of course, this place is built to withstand missile strikes.
The soundproofing means no one outside these walls heard anything. "
No one heard anything. The reminder that we're completely isolated in his fortress makes the intimacy feel even more private, more ours. A world created where nothing exists except the way his hands felt on my skin and the way he murmured praise in Russian while he made me come apart.
"What were you saying? In Russian?"
"That you're beautiful. That you feel perfect. That I've been wanting to touch you like this since the first time I saw you."
"Mikhail?"
"Yes?"
"When this is over, when we clear our names and expose Harrison's corruption..." I trail off, not sure how to voice the question that's been building in my chest.
"When this is over," he says quietly, "I want to take you to dinner. Somewhere expensive and public where I can watch you eat and pretend we're a normal couple, and after that, I want to bring you back here and spend the entire night learning new ways to make you say my name."
The promise sends heat spiraling through me despite my exhaustion. "Just your name?"
"Or God's name if I do it right. You might even end up learning some Russian."
If he does it right. Based on the evidence of the last hour, he definitely knows what he's doing.
I laugh. "That sounds like a plan."
"Good." He pulls me closer, until we're pressed together from chest to hip. "Because I'm not letting you go, little wolf. Not now that I finally have you."
And just like that, he's making the choice to be with me, despite every reason this shouldn't work.
"Even if it gets complicated?"
His lips brush against my temple, a soft kiss that feels more intimate than anything we just shared. "I've been alone all these years. I'm not going back to that."
The words settle in my chest like a warm weight. He tilts my chin up so I'm looking at him, and the honesty in his dark eyes makes my breath catch. "The thought of losing you now makes me want to eliminate every threat in a thousand-mile radius."
Possessive. Definitely dangerous. Exactly what I want to hear from the man who's just claimed me so thoroughly.
"And you? What does this feel like to you?"
"Like everything I always wanted and never allowed myself to admit," I whisper.
The point of no return.
And I don't regret it for a second.