Chapter 47
GABBY
His mouth claims mine like he’s been starving for it. The kiss is deep, unhurried, but edged with a fire that makes my knees buckle. I taste a bit of whiskey on his tongue, and I make sure to take a slow lick.
My hands fist in his shirt, yanking him closer until his chest crushes against mine. The ring on my finger catches the desk lamp’s amber glow.
Sasha breaks the kiss just enough to growl against my lips. “Lock the door, Krasotka. We’re celebrating properly.”
“Are you worried the cleaning lady might bust in?” I ask with a smirk as I lock the door.
“Honestly? I really don’t care who sees us. Now,” he continues, “get over here.”
“Is this the sort of bossiness I have to look forward to when we’re married?” I approach him, that delicious, familiar scent greeting me once more. I’m so slick between my thighs, I can hardly stand it.
As soon as I’m within reach, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close. He kisses me again, squeezing my breasts through my shirt. I let out a little squeal—it’s more intense than I’d anticipated.
“You alright?” he asks, pulling back for just a moment.
“Yeah, fine. It’s just my boobs. They’re a little sensitive.”
His lovely, wolfish smile returns. “I suppose I’ll have to be gentler with you.”
“But not too gentle.”
“As you wish.”
He places his hands on my middle, his touch tender. He knows the precious cargo I’m carrying. His grip moves up, scooping my breasts into his hands. Sasha teases my nipples just a bit. I close my eyes and moan.
“Come.”
He lifts me by my hips as I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the edge of his desk like I weigh nothing. I’m in awe of his strength. I love the way he holds me, carries me, makes me feel so goddamn safe. And I’m going to need all of that strength in the months to come.
“This body,” he says, gently undoing the buttons of my blouse. “Beautiful. Mine.”
“Let’s see if you’re still saying that after I push a couple babies out of it.”
Without the slightest beat of hesitation, he says, “I know I will.”
His hands move up, along my thighs, pulling up the hem of my skirt with them. “Spread for me.” It’s a command, but it’s laced with a please, his dark eyes pleading in this delicious way I love.
I do, easing my legs apart and hooking them over both corners of the side of the desk. Sasha lowers himself, his breath warm over my lace panties, already damp. He places his hand on my inner thighs, squeezing me gently before moving his touch up, right to my lips.
“Mmm, look at you. So wet for me already.”
“Always.”
In that moment, I find myself wondering if it’ll always be this way, that Sasha will never stop being able to turn me on with just a look. We have a whole lifetime to find out.
I slip my hands into his thick hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.
Mercifully, he doesn’t tease—something about my pregnancy hormones makes me have zero patience for that.
Teeth graze the edge of my panties, and then they’re gone, his thumbs slipping underneath the waistband and ripping them off.
His mouth is on me, his hot, insistent tongue lapping slowly at first, circling my clit like he’s savoring vintage wine.
I buck, pulling a gasp into my lungs, the edge of the desk biting into my ass.
“Sasha—”
“Hush, Solnyshko.” He pushes my thighs wider, and his right hand moves up again, thumb stroking the plush inner line of my lips. “Let me taste how much you love me.”
He moves deeper, two fingers sliding inside my pussy. He curls just right, hitting the spot that makes my vision blur. I bite my lip to stifle the cry, but he doesn’t let up—not even a little. He sucks my clit perfectly, humming against me as he works and pushing me to another level of pleasure.
“That feels amazing.”
He flicks his eyes up to me, dark and hungry. “I know.”
Pressure builds white-hot. I grind my hips shamelessly into his face. He takes it, drinks it, his growl vibrating through me until I shatter, thighs quaking.
“Sasha… I…” The orgasm steals my words and my breath.
He rises slowly, licking his lips like he just ate his favorite dessert and doesn’t want to miss a single morsel, his chin slick with my juices.
“I hope you don’t think this is all my fiancée’s getting this evening,” he says. “Because you deserve far, far more.”
“Then show me.”
That wolfish smirk still on his lips, he unbuttons his shirt and slides it off his gorgeous, perfect torso.
I drink in the angles and lines of his muscles, but I don’t have long to stare before he takes me by the hips and spins me around, bending me over the desk, my palms slapping the polished surface, my breasts pouring out of my bra and grazing the cool top.
The air kisses my exposed ass, and I arch back instinctively, feeling the weight of my plush hips settle into his grasp.
“God, this view,” he growls. He kneads the fullness underneath his hands, thumbs parting me wide open for him. “You are so fucking perfect. Made for me; made for my hands.”
I’m too turned on to think straight, my mouth open, my body humming with anticipation of what’s next.
Slacks rustle behind me, then I feel his cock, hot and heavy, pressing against my entrance, teasing my slick heat.
I push back with impatience and he groans, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling enough to bring me into a deep arch.
“Patience, my little fiancée,” he says.
He thrusts slowly, the stretch burning perfectly, sweetly, as it always does.
My toes curl and I gasp as he bottoms out, holding there for a moment as I grip his thickness.
He pulls back, then plunges in again. The thrusts soon pick up speed and rhythm, the pleasure coursing through me.
His free hand sneaks around, finding my clit and rubbing tight circles.
“Take me, Gabriella,” he says. “Squeeze that perfect little pussy around me. Show me you’re mine.”
The dirty praise hits just right. I moan, pushing back into his thrusts, making him go deeper and deeper still. He holds my hips tightly, driving into me over and over, the pressure building further. His thrusts are perfect, his fingers relentless.
“Come, Gabriella. Come for me again.”
That’s all it takes for the second orgasm to explode. I shatter around him, walls fluttering and pulling him deeper inside as waves crash through me. But he doesn’t stop, drawing it out until I’m trembling.
“That… that was…”
“Not the end of it,” he says, sliding out of me. “Up.”
I stand and he turns me once more, this time facing him.
His manhood is slick and throbbing, my mouth watering at the sight of it.
His hands go back to my hips, and he perches me on the edge of the desk.
We’re face-to-face now, his hands cradling my thighs, spreading them wide.
His eyes are locked onto mine, like I’m the only thing in this world that exists.
“Look at me, Gabriella. See how much I love this—how much I love you.”
He notches himself at my opening again, sliding deep into me with one more perfect glide.
We both moan at the intimacy of it, how goddamn good it feels.
This angle brings him in deeper, and he takes his time with his thrusts, rolling his hip slowly, just right.
Sasha hits the spot perfectly, pressing his forehead into mine and letting me lose myself in those deep, dark pools.
Our breaths are sharp and ragged, mingling together. I wrap my legs tighter around him, heels digging into his ass, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move from my thighs, one splaying protectively over my belly, the other cupping my breast, rolling the nipple under his touch until I whimper.
“You feel that?” he whispers. “This body’s my heaven. Your curves, your heat—your everything. I love how you take me, how you bloom for me.”
I can’t say anything in response, hanging on his words, the pleasure of his deep, incredible strokes.
He goes on, the words pouring out of him. “Fuck, you’re everything. Come with me—let me fill you, love you, keep you forever.”
His words completely unravel me, the pace of his thrusts building to a perfect frenzy, deep thrusts laced with tenderness. Our bodies are slick and synced. I grab his shoulders and kiss him fiercely.
“I love you,” I gasp against his mouth. “Fill me, please.”
He breaks first, roaring into my neck, spilling hot inside me, his cock pulsing as his body shakes. His orgasm takes me with him, the climax feeling like an exploding star between my thighs, my walls gripping him and carrying us both through the pleasure.
When our orgasms fade, we cling to each other, sweat-slicked and spent, his arms wrapped around my shuddering body. He pulls back just enough to search my eyes, then he kisses me gently on the lips.
“Mrs. Orlova. I like the sound of that.”
I smirk, tracing his jaw. “Earn it, Pakhan. Lifetime contract.”
His laugh rumbles. “Happy to put in the work.”
I’m still wrapping my head around what this is between us.
But it feels eternal.