Chapter 28 #3
He lifts me, guiding me to kneel over him before producing a condom from his back pocket. Smiling, I pluck it from his fingers, carefully opening it and rolling it onto his hard length. I pump once, twice, before lining him up.
His hands tug my neckline down, exposing the lace of my bra. He brings the fabric to his mouth, tongue working the hardened peak. A low moan escapes us both as I sink down onto him.
Maybe it’s the possibility of being caught that makes this hotter. It’s not like Viktor to be reckless. And I love that I turn him into this.
His hands settle on my hips as he bucks up to meet every thrust. When he hits that perfect spot inside me, I can’t contain the strangled sound that tears from my throat. It’s too loud. Everyone will know. But I don’t care.
My hips move faster, harder, urging him to match my rhythm.
But he slows deliberately, pulling himself out of me until only his tip remains.
I pant as he frees my breast from its confines, lavishing attention that turns every nerve into fireworks.
He slides into me slowly, holding my hips so I can barely move.
Who knew sex could be this explosive? No one has ever made me feel so depraved and worshiped at the same time.
His tongue swirls around my nipple as he sheaths himself fully, stilling to focus on my breast.
“Please...don’t tease me,” I whimper.
I feel his laugh vibrate between our chests, sending shockwaves through me.
He pulls out again before sinking me down inch by torturous inch.
My head falls against his shoulder. “Oh God…” I shudder.
His hand cups my chin, thumb sweeping tenderly over my lip.
Again, he withdraws, then pushes in. The slowness is driving me wild.
“You’re beautiful, Avelina,” he murmurs before his thrusts turn faster, changing pace until I can only ride it out with him. “Viktor,” I gasp, my body trembling on the verge of release. My eyes slip shut as pleasure rolls through me.
“Eyes open,” he grits out.
I lock my gaze with his, seeing need and pleasure reflected in his eyes. Sweat beads his brow, and everything tightens.
“Who’s fucking you now?”
“You, Viktor.”
“That’s right,” he murmurs against my jaw. The way he asks and the way he talks makes my whole body shudder, winding that coil tighter.
“Viktor...oh God...”
My eyes roll back as I shudder around him. He pounds into me even as my orgasm mounts, making me tighten even more around him.
“That’s it, baby.” Each of his words is punctuated by another thrust until fresh waves of pleasure roll through me. His fingers fondle my breast as he thrusts harder, frantically, desperate to follow me over.
He pulses inside me, sending me over the edge again. His hand brushes through my hair, cupping my face before kissing me like he didn’t just wreck my entire world.
“Shit,” he moans, his head falling back against the couch, and I can’t help but laugh.
He looks thoroughly wrecked. I’m sure I’m no better, but seeing him come apart like that does something to me. I brush my hand against his cheek—slowly, carefully. To my amazement, he leans into the touch.
And my heart squeezes, knowing he trusts me enough for this tenderness.
The house is quiet, and everyone is asleep.
I tiptoe into the kitchen like a thief, praying the floorboards don’t creak and give me away.
I’m not hungry…not really.
But I just need something.
Something sweet.
Just a cookie. Just one…
I find the box in the pantry. I run my fingers over the individually wrapped cookies, debating which one to choose.
Picking a salted caramel and chocolate chip cookie, I tear it open with shaking fingers, the crinkle of the plastic sounding like a siren in the stillness of the night. My cheeks burn as if the darkness itself is judging me.
I scarf one down, then stuff the wrapper in the trash can, making sure it’s hidden under some vegetable peelings.
I can’t help picking out a second one. Just one more.
This time, it’s a triple chocolate fudge swirl one.
I eat it just as quickly, trying not to think about how many calories there are in it, although I already know by heart the exact number.
I shove the empty wrapper into the trash can, again under the vegetable peelings, and I’m just starting my third cookie—chocolate hazelnut praline—when a low voice rumbles behind me.
“What are you doing, Avelina?”
I startle, practically jumping out of my skin. Then I freeze, the cookie halfway to my mouth. My stomach plunges straight to my toes. And my breath catches as I turn.
Viktor stands in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame, hair mussed from sleep, and sweatpants slung low on his hips. He looks like a sexy dream come to life. And he’s staring straight at me.
“I…uh—” I swallow the bite like a criminal getting rid of the evidence. “Nothing.”
His dark brow arches. “Were you hungry?”
“No…” Heat floods my face. Because if I were hungry, at least I’d have an excuse.
He crosses the kitchen with a slow, predatory grace. “Why are you sneaking around at night, instead of eating in daylight?” His tone is direct but gentle.
I shrink back into myself. “I didn’t want you to think I’m…greedy.” My voice cracks. “Or…you know, too—” The word fat sticks in my throat like barbed wire, and I can’t say it out loud.
His expression shifts instantly, his dark eyes softening. “Too what?” he asks softly.
I shake my head, mortified. Tears sting my eyes, and I shove the wrapper of the last cookie deeper into my pocket, wishing I could crawl inside a hole and disappear forever.
Viktor exhales sharply, then steps past me and opens another cabinet. My breath catches.
Because on the shelf sits a pristine stack of my favorite cookies—several boxes, neatly lined up.
“I bought these for you,” he says, voice low.
My mouth falls open. “You…what?”
He shrugs, as if it’s obvious. “You like them, yeah? I noticed you save the last one every time, like you’re rationing for wartime.” His lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile. “So now, no rationing needed.”
I blink at him, completely thrown off balance. “You noticed that?”
“Of course. Now, stop looking like you’ve been caught committing a crime and sit.”
Before I can protest, he takes a box, pulls out a chair, sits down, and tears open a pack. He takes a cookie, bites it clean in half, and nods approvingly.
“Come,” he says around a mouthful. “Eat with me.”
I lower myself into the chair, stunned, and nibble a cookie—milk chocolate and caramelized pecan—while he demolishes four without hesitation.
By the time we’ve both had enough, I’m left staring at him, my heart pounding like a set of drums.
Because maybe, just maybe…he’s not ashamed of me after all.