Chapter Seventeen #4
He kissed her while his hand continued, swallowing every sound she could not contain. The pressure inside her built slowly and relentlessly, each movement drawing her farther from thought.
She turned her face into his neck.
“Don’t stop.”
He said something in Russian.
“What?”
“I do not stop.”
The answer was strained.
He didn’t.
Tessa’s body tightened beneath him, her fingers digging into his shoulder as the sensation finally broke through her. Matvei held her through it, his mouth against her temple and his hand slowing only when her breathing began to settle.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Tessa reached for him again.
Matvei drew in a sharp breath.
“You need minute.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are shaking.”
“So are you.”
His eyes opened.
Tessa smiled, still breathless.
The expression he gave her was dark enough to erase the smile.
He kissed her hard.
The remaining hesitation disappeared as they shifted together, sheets twisting beneath their legs. Matvei stopped long enough to reach for protection, his movements clumsier than anything she had seen from him on the ice.
Tessa watched him.
He looked back at her before moving between her legs.
“Still sure?”
She reached up, caught the back of his neck and pulled him down.
“Yes.”
When he entered her, both of them went still.
The stretch and closeness were more intense than Tessa expected. Her fingers tightened against his shoulders while her body adjusted around him.
Matvei’s face pressed into the space beside hers.
A low Russian curse left him, broken by an unsteady breath.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He did not move.
Tessa turned her mouth toward his ear.
“Matvei.”
“Yes?”
“Move.”
He lifted his head and searched her expression one final time.
Then he did.
The first thrusts were slow, careful enough that she felt every inch of movement between them. Matvei braced one arm beside her head and kept the other hand firmly at her hip, holding her close while their bodies found a rhythm.
Tessa wrapped one leg around him.
His control fractured.
The next movement drove deeper, pulling a sharp sound from her. Matvei stopped immediately.
“No,” she said, tightening her leg around him. “More.”
His eyes darkened.
He obeyed.
The pace built gradually. Each thrust became firmer, the bed shifting quietly beneath them. Matvei kissed her whenever her sounds grew louder, as though he could contain them inside his mouth.
The awkwardness returned in small, human moments that made everything more intimate rather than less.
His elbow caught in the sheet. Tessa’s hair became trapped beneath his hand until she laughed and pulled it free.
Matvei apologized in the middle of a kiss for something that had not hurt, and she silenced him by drawing him deeper against her.
Then neither of them laughed for a while.
Tessa’s hands moved across his back, feeling the muscles tighten with every motion. Sweat gathered along his shoulders. The rhythm became harder and less controlled as she met him, their bodies moving together without the careful thought that had guided the beginning.
Russian came from him in fragments.
Low curses against her mouth. Her name wrapped inside words she could not understand. Something rough and desperate when she shifted beneath him and the angle changed.
Tessa clung to his shoulders.
The pressure began building again, faster this time. Matvei seemed to recognize it before she did. One hand moved between them, and the combination of his touch and the relentless rhythm pushed her beyond anything she could control.
“Matvei.”
“I know.”
His voice broke.
Her body tightened around him.
Matvei buried his face against her shoulder and swore in Russian, his movements losing their last trace of restraint as she came apart beneath him.
Tessa held him through it, nails pressing into his back.
He followed moments later with her name against her skin, body tense above hers before collapsing carefully beside her.
For several seconds, the only sound in the room was their breathing.
The world beyond the hotel room had disappeared.
Later, the city had gone entirely quiet.
Tessa lay beneath the white hotel sheets with one arm across Matvei’s chest. The room remained dark except for light slipping around the curtains from the street below.
His breathing had slowed.
She could feel it beneath her cheek.
Neither had spoken much after. The intensity had receded into a silence that felt less awkward than the one when they first entered, but more vulnerable. Clothes remained scattered near the bed. Matvei’s sweater lay across the foot of it, one sleeve touching the floor.
Tessa traced a small line over his chest with one fingertip.
Matvei’s hand moved along her back.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Sure?”
Tessa lifted her head.
“You ask that a lot.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure.”
Matvei looked toward her face in the dark.
“Regret?”
“No.”
The answer required no thought.
Something in his body softened beneath her.
“You?” she asked.
“No.”
She rested her head against him again.
The immediate truth was easy.
The future remained waiting.
In less than two days, Tessa would fly back to Canada. Matvei would return sooner. Atlantic Centre would replace the old bar, the Christmas lights and the quiet streets where nobody knew them well enough to notice.
She would stand beside his stall with a recorder.
He would answer while Rick, Linda and television cameras surrounded them.
Nothing about this night provided an answer for how that would work.
Tessa felt Matvei’s fingers move slowly through her hair.
“Tomorrow,” she said.
“No.”
She smiled faintly against his chest. “Tomorrow still happens.”
“Yes. But not now.”
The words echoed his answer on the walk.
Not back yet.
Tessa closed her eyes.
For tonight, the distance between their hotels no longer mattered. Neither did the ocean, the beat or the job waiting to become complicated the moment she walked into the rink again.
Matvei’s arm tightened around her.
Tessa allowed herself to stay where she was.
Not because the risks had disappeared.
But because for one night, she had chosen him knowing exactly what they were.