18. Chapter Eighteen #4
Sergei wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me closer.
Then, he brushes a single wet strand of hair away from my face.
The pad of his thumb drags across my bottom lip as his eyes drink me in.
My lips instinctively part for him, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if I’ve finally lost it.
I don’t even know how we ended up here. One moment we were in the living room, his gaze more intoxicating than the wine in my system, and the next I’m half-naked in the pool with him.
But the craziest part of all is that I don’t want to pull away from him.
I don’t want to leave. I want to drag my fingers down his chest, lick a path up his sternum, feel him come undone beneath my touch.
His chin drops lower so that we’re now sharing the same air. It isn’t cold enough for us to see our breath, but it’s charged with an electricity that crackles between us. As if our proximity sets off a chemical reaction, two volatile elements on the verge of ignition.
What am I doing?
Investigating him for his wife’s murder, the annoying voice in my head taunts.
Before I can think anything else, his mouth crashes into mine.
The kiss is fast and desperate. He tastes me with a hunger that suggests he’s been starved, and in this moment, I become his oxygen, his source of energy, his everything.
I try not to read into it because it’s likely driven by raw passion, basic chemistry, the primal forces that have brought us together.
But the attraction is undeniable, and neither of us bothers to pretend otherwise.
Sergei grips my jawline while his other hand slides up my back. His fingers press possessively into my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He smells like something distinctively himself, mixed with chlorine and a hint of a floral fragrance, likely from Misha’s shampoo.
When his tongue slips into my mouth, a desperate whimper escapes me. Sergei responds by tightening his hold, his mouth moving possessively down my neck and across my collarbone while he whispers Russian words against my skin.
My body trembles, my thoughts turning hazy with want. Because I do. I want him so badly it feels like my heart might burst through my chest.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I become painfully aware of the hardness pressed against me. The ache between my thighs grows wilder with every slow roll of his hips. I run my hands over his broad shoulders, letting my nails explore the hard planes of his back before tangling in his hair.
“Sergei…” I breathe out in between kisses.
He responds by pushing me against the pool’s edge, trapping me as the water laps around us.
The press of his body against mine sends my bra strap falling down my shoulder.
He drags his tongue back up before finding my eager mouth waiting for him.
His hands come around my ass as he squeezes hard enough that I know I’ll find bruises tomorrow.
The thought sends a thrill through me, because I’ll have physical evidence that this has happened. That this hasn’t been another fantasy.
The angle of his body makes my eyes roll back, because yes, yes, that is the spot.
I’m wrapped like a tight coil, every nerve ending on the edge of burning out as the pressure builds higher and higher.
All logic slips away, drowning in the pool around us.
The reasons why this is a bad idea dissolve under the incinerating way he touches me.
I forget about why we shouldn’t keep up this madness, and imagine sliding inside his boxers, wrapping around his thick length and bringing him to my entrance.
It would be so easy for him to move my panties and bury himself deep inside me.
If the mere thought of this is enough to bring me almost over the edge, I fear that if we were to let this progress further—the way the tension between my legs screams at me to do—I might combust entirely.
My head drops back, hitting the pool’s edge, causing my ears to ring.
I push Sergei’s head to my chest, urging him to kiss me.
He knows exactly what I’m asking because a second later, his large hand cups me, fingers pinching my nipple through the wet fabric of my bra.
More. More. I need more. I rub myself against him—shaking, shamelessly whimpering, my breaths coming out quick and sharp as I gasp for air.
“Sergei!” I call out, not caring if anyone hears us.
He grunts against me, and I never thought a single sound could ever make me feel so wanted. It’s like the first time I’m being touched in a way that feels like he might die if he doesn’t. He whispers my name like a prayer, and I think I’m about to come—
“Papa!” Misha’s voice vibrates through the monitor at the other edge of the pool, breaking the spell we found ourselves under.
Startled, I dive under the water. Waves push against me as Sergei swims to the other side.
I keep my head submerged, watching him pull himself out, and wait a few moments before I break the surface with a loud splash.
Cold air hits my face, creeping beneath my skin. Then I realize Sergei has gone inside.
What am I doing?