Chapter 21 Sera #2
He types and then frowns at the screen. “Unfortunately, with the requirements provided.” He lists them off. “Rooms on the third or fourth floor, near the stairwell, and adjoining rooms with doors… This is the only option.”
“We need two beds,” Liev repeats.
“I’m sorry, sir. We’re fully booked for junior suites, unless you’d like smaller rooms…”
“It’s fine.” Liev’s eyes whip to me, and I lift an eyebrow. “We’ll make it work.”
Keke is still complaining when we reach her door. “I’m not leaving this room tonight. If anyone so much as breathes near my door—” She disappears inside and slams her hotel door before finishing.
Liev opens the door to our room, and I drop my bag by the chair before gesturing at the elephant in the room. “We’re adults.”
The air feels heavier than it should.
“If it makes you uncomfortable—”
“It doesn’t,” I cut in. “It’s a bed.”
He studies me. “Okay.”
My phone buzzes and I glance at the message. “Her Highness ordered room service again.”
“I’ll stand in the hall until she gets it,” Liev volunteers. “Order ours?”
My fingers are already pulling up the menu. “What do you want?”
“Surprise me. I’m not picky.”
When he’s gone, I scroll through the different food options, my attention constantly snagging on the bed. It’s not like we haven’t been intimate—sort of. I’m being silly.
But this isn’t a heat of the moment thing, or a feeling vulnerable and he’s comforting me kind of thing. Getting into bed to sleep feels more deliberate.
I groan. I’m definitely overthinking this. It’s just a bed, and we’re adults.
Well, he might be an adult. I feel like a giant walking hormone when he’s around. Annoyed with myself, I grab my phone to order two burgers, frowning when I see the battery is low. Again? I fully charged it in the airport lounge before we got on the plane and I’ve barely used it.
Frustrated I fish my charger out of the bag and plug the phone in at the desk.
My phone buzzes instantly.
Hannah: You’re viral.
Me: What’s viral?
Hannah: You getting punched. I would have cried.
Me: No, you wouldn’t. You’d have screamed like you do when you’re driving and get cut off.
Hannah: You might be right.
Me: You were joking about the viral thing, right?
Hannah: Nope. I saw it on Snaptik.
My stomach plummets.
Hannah: Send me a pic. I want to see the bruise.
Me: There’s really nothing to see.
Hannah: How’s Operation Towel Drop progressing
How do I answer that?
What’s going on with Liev feels so much deeper than when she and I were joking in the coffee shop.
Me: I haven’t dropped my towel
Hannah: Boooooooo
I laugh.
Me: But I did finally….
Hannah: You had sex with him?
I feel silly texting this.
Me: No, but I think it’s only a matter of time.
Hannah: Go for it
I smile.
Me: It’s more than just hooking up.
Me: I think
There are several seconds before she answers
Hannah: That’s big news. I’m happy for you.
The door opens, and Liev enters holding our food bags. “Intercepted the guy in the hallway.”
Me: Gotta go. Talk soon.
My phone buzzes a few minutes later with her thumbs-up response.
Fortunately, besides the king-sized bed, the room comes with a small table and two chairs.
We eat straight from the containers, knees brushing now and then without either of us pulling away.
It feels strangely easy. When the food is gone, neither of us makes a move to stand right away.
Eventually, we drift to the bed, claiming opposite sides.
I point the remote at the TV and start flipping through the stations with the volume low.
I stare at the TV, aware of the heat of Liev on the other side of the mattress. Aware and a little annoyed at how far he’s keeping himself from me. He types on his phone for several minutes, and then finally sets it on the bedside table. I turn off the television and will myself to make a move.
Drop the towel, Sera.
“Tired?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Head still bothering you?”
“A little.”
Okaaay. This is awkward.
I stare at the ceiling.
Fuck it.
“Why haven’t you made a move since the other night?”
As he turns toward me, the mattress shifts, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Let’s see… There was Brady’s phone call, then next night you got hit in the face, and last night you clearly had a headache… I didn’t think it was the right time.”
“That’s it?”
His dark brows pinch together. “What are you asking?”
My courage fails me, and I move to pull away, but he catches my wrist, holding me still.
“As much as I wish I could, I can’t read your mind, Seraphina. I need you to tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
“I thought maybe with all the stuff I told you, and then freaking out the other morning, you might have changed your mind.”
Liev’s mouth tightens into a flat line, and a muscle ticks noticeably in his jaw, illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp. He draws a slow, controlled breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, like he’s trying not to explode.
“I know I’m a lot of work,” I rush on. “And I come with so much shit, so I would totally understand if—”
His mouth seals over mine, stealing the rest of my sentence.
The kiss is sudden but deliberate. His lips are firm and warm, and he tastes like mint toothpaste.
He releases my wrist, and the only point of contact now is where his mouth is slowly destroying me.
His tongue slides against mine in languid strokes.
Every coaxing movement makes liquid heat pool low in my belly, melting my tension and worry away.
He pulls back, our unsteady breaths mingling. His lips glisten in the low light.
“If you are asking whether I want you,” he says in a gravelly voice. “The answer should be obvious. If it’s not, then I’m doing something very wrong.”
“I’m asking,” I say, feeling dizzy, “if I’m the only one who feels like this?”
“Like what, malyshka?”
“Like I’m going to die if I can’t touch you.”
I’m worried the real confession is in my eyes: Like what’s between us is more than just physical.
A devilish smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “You can touch me wherever you want.”
I drag in a ragged breath. “I want you to touch me, too.”
His eyes darken as he shifts closer. “I can do that.” The promise in his low rumble sends a shiver racing through me. “I don’t want to rush you into something you aren’t ready for.”
My hands slide over his broad shoulders and curl into his nape. “I trust you not to hurt me.” My hold on him tightens enough that I know he feels my nails pressing into his skin. “I just want more.”
His gaze pins me. “I will never hurt you in any way you don’t ask me to.”
The words spike my arousal into hyperdrive. Sharp and bright, every nerve in my body is awake and alert.
“More?” He repeats, his pupils so blown his eyes look black.
“Please.”
That single word is all it takes.
Liev’s hand slides roughly into my hair, fingers threading through the strands and tipping my head until our gaze locks. “Tell me if I go too fast.”
Need pulses through me. I can’t wait any longer.
I surge up, crashing my mouth against his.
This kiss is harder—hot and claiming. His tongue strokes deep, tasting every corner, while my fingers twist in the soft cotton of his shirt, anchoring myself against the storm building inside me.
My heart hammers violently against my ribs until I wonder if it might burst.
His lips leave mine to burn a slow trail of kisses along my jaw and down the sensitive column of my throat.
I arch instinctively, offering more access.
For one heartbeat, I wonder if he feels the uneven texture of my scars beneath his mouth.
But then his large hands clamp on my hips, his thumbs pressing into the indentation of my waist through the thin fabric of my pajama shorts.
He pulls me flush against him, and I stop thinking all together.
I feel him, thick and impossibly hard, perfectly aligned with the ache between my thighs. When I roll my hips, the friction causes white-hot lights to spark behind my eyelids.
“Oh, god,” I moan, muffling the sound against his shoulder.
He hushes me softly, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Keke’s next door remember?”
I press a finger to his lips in return when my hand slips under his shirt pushing it up and he makes a noise.
My palms flatten against the scorching heat of the skin beneath, my nails tracing over the hard ridges of muscle.
Liev groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through my chest and settles between my legs, intensifying the throbbing.
I explore slowly. Fingertips glide over his inked skin, following the dark swirls and sharp lines that disappear beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. When I drag my nails lightly down the front of his abdomen, his stomach clenches, muscles jumping under my touch.
“Take it off,” I breathe.
He lifts his arms without hesitation, letting me peel the shirt over his head.
The lamplight highlights all of the hard planes of his decorated torso as he lowers himself over me. I stare, breath caught, then my hands are back, learning every dip and rise.
His fingers skim up my sides, grazing the ribs beneath my thin tank top, raising goosebumps in their wake. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, voice almost pained.
I gasp as his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts. He teases higher in maddening passes, circling closer to the aching peaks with every stroke, until I’m panting, hips shifting restlessly against his.
“Please.”
He smiles—an almost predatory expression—but his eyes hold something softer. “I think I like you begging.”
He kisses me again, deep and drugging, tongues tangling when his hands finally close over me.
Warm, calloused palms cup my breasts under my shirt, thumbs circling the tight, straining nipples.
I make a broken, needy sound I don’t recognize.
Liev swallows the sound even as he answers with his own low moan.
“You still with me?” he asks against my swollen lips
I nod frantically. “Very.”
My shirt has risen up, the cool air of the room brushing my stomach before his heated skin presses down on me. His breath stutters, and then there’s a ragged inhale.
Our kisses turn messy and desperate, the mattress dips deeper when his hips rock into mine in hard, deliberate thrusts, the friction through our clothes almost unbearable.
Until the insistent sound of his buzzing phone, over and over, shatters the haze. Whoever it is, they’re relentless.
“Ignore it,” he growls, settling more firmly between my thighs, rocking harder. The pressure is exquisite; I bite my lip to stifle a whimper.
But the phone keeps vibrating.
Fuck.
Liev presses up on his forearms, holding his weight off me. He presses his forehead to mine, both of us breathing in harsh pants.
The phone buzzes again.
“Just get it.” My voice is hoarse. “It must be important.”
Still braced over me, he exhales a curse in Russian, and then he reaches for his phone with one hand. One look at the illuminated screen and his expression changes.
“I have to take this.”
With a soft kiss, he rolls off me and reaches for his T-shirt, pulling it on as he heads for the door. I hear his voice through the door, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Not just because he’s being quiet, but because he’s speaking in Russian.
I close my eyes, reveling in the tendrils of pleasure still running through me, feeling safer and more cared for than I ever have before.