19. Aurora
19
AURORA
It's not his offer that leaves me breathless, but the way he asks, like my answer genuinely matters to him.
Like I matter.
"Do you want me to show you?"
Those simple words make me feel more seen than I have in years.
I nod slowly, my throat too tight for words.
"Where would you like me to show you, zarechka ?" Ruslan asks, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrates through my body.
I glance at the table between us, the wine glasses still half-full. "Here," I whisper. "Right here."
Without warning, Ruslan rises from his chair, his hands gripping my waist. He lifts me as though I weigh nothing, and the sudden sensation of being airborne makes my stomach flip. I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to his solid warmth.
He places me gently on the edge of the table, his movements careful despite the hunger in his eyes. The hard surface presses against the backs of my thighs as he steps between my legs.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, his golden eyes searching mine.
I nod again, unable to find my voice as he leans forward to capture my lips. This kiss is different from before. This one is slower and more deliberate.
I lean back and brace my hands on the table behind me.
My heart thunders against my ribs like it's trying to escape. Every nerve ending in my body ignites at his touch, a sensation both terrifying and exhilarating.
For years, I've existed in a half-life of constant vigilance and careful distance. Every sensation dulled by necessity. But Ruslan's hands on my body cut through that numbness like nothing else could.
The fear is still there. A voice warning me this is dangerous territory. That I'm letting someone too close. That I'm risking everything.
But for once, another voice speaks louder: You deserve this. You deserve to feel.
I tremble beneath his touch, my hands gripping the edge of the table so hard I can feel the wood biting into my palms. Not from fear, but from the effort of staying anchored as waves of anticipation crash through me.
I let out a breathy moan as Ruslan opens my legs. This time, I know we won't be interrupted. My pulse races as his fingers trail along my thighs, slowly pushing my dress higher to expose me completely.
"Let me see all of you," he whispers, his voice deep with desire.
I nod, suddenly shy despite wanting this more than my next breath. He reads my hesitation and pauses, his golden eyes meeting mine.
"Tell me that you want this, zarechka ."
"I do," I whisper back. "I want this. I want you."
His fingers find the zipper at the back of my dress, and I arch slightly to give him access. Each inch of exposed skin tingles in the cool air.
"Beautiful," he murmurs as my dress loosens. "So beautiful."
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by his words.
"You deserve this," Ruslan says, as if reading my thoughts. "You deserve to feel everything."
The dress slips from my shoulders, and I shiver.
Not from cold, but from the revelation washing over me.
This is why I feel safe with him. Not just because of his power or his protection, but because he gives me space to be who I want to be. To reclaim parts of myself I thought were lost forever.
With the dress gone, I feel my body slowly falling backward. Guided by Ruslan's strong hands until I'm lying flat on the table in just my bra and panties. The smooth surface is cool against my heated skin.
Ruslan leans over me, his broad frame enveloping mine completely. I should feel trapped, but instead, I feel sheltered. Like nothing can touch me here.
"You are everything," he whispers against my lips before kissing me deeply, draining the breath from my lungs.
I pull him closer, my fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back. For the first time in years, I'm not running away. I'm running towards something.
Towards him. Towards pleasure. Towards life.
Ruslan breaks the kiss, his lips moving away from mine. I nearly protest until I feel those same lips pressing against my neck. The sensation is entirely different.
Softer and more deliberate.
"One," he murmurs against my skin, his breath warm.
My eyes flutter closed as he moves lower, pressing another kiss just a little lower.
"Two," he counts, his voice a rumble that vibrates through me.
I tilt my head back instinctively, giving him better access. His fingers trace my collarbone as he places a third kiss at the crook where my neck meets my shoulder.
"Three," he whispers. "Your neck is three kisses long, zarechka ."
I laugh softly, the sound catching in my throat as his fingers find my bra strap. He rolls it down slowly, watching my face the entire time. There's something reverent in his gaze that makes me feel cherished rather than exposed.
With a practiced flick I barely register, my bra comes undone. I gasp as the cool air meets my skin, but Ruslan doesn't give me time to feel self-conscious.
His mouth finds my right nipple, and everything in my world narrows to that single point of contact. This isn't the rough handling I remember from my past. The painful bruising squeezes that I can't forget.
This is something entirely different.
"Oh," I breathe, unprepared for the gentle suction, the careful attention.
Ruslan hums against my skin, the vibration sending new waves of sensation through me. His tongue circles my nipple before he takes it between his lips again, and I arch toward him instinctively.
It feels like worship, like every part of me is worthy of this careful devotion. I whimper, my fingers threading through his hair to hold him closer.
Each small sound I make only seems to encourage him. He alternates between gentle suction and feather-light kisses that leave me squirming on the table.
While his mouth continues its sweet torture, his hand begins to stroke the inside of my thigh. The dual sensations make my head spin. His fingers trace maddening patterns on sensitive skin, moving higher with each pass.
"It feels so good," I breathe, my voice hardly my own. "So good."
"We're just getting started, zarechka ," Ruslan murmurs against my skin, his voice dark with a promise that makes me shiver.
When his attention shifts to my left breast, I cry out in surprise. The previously neglected nipple is somehow more sensitive, almost painfully so. Where the right side had gradually built to pleasure, this new sensation explodes through me instantly.
"Oh," I gasp. "Oh my God."
My mind struggles to process the overwhelming feeling. It's like he's plugged a live wire directly to my core. Each gentle pull of his lips sends electric currents racing from my breast to my toes before doubling back in the searing heat between my legs.
I never knew my body could respond this way. Like every nerve ending is suddenly, gloriously alive.
The wetness between my thighs increases, and I squeeze them together seeking relief only to meet his powerful body in between. Ruslan gently pushes them open again, denying me that small comfort.
"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for.
He's drowning me in fresh sensation. All of it terrifying and wonderful and exciting. My hips move instinctively, seeking friction that isn't there.
His careful touch continues to escalate as his mouth roams over my breast. His hand traces maddening patterns on the inside of my thigh. Each motion brings me closer to something I've never experienced before. Pleasure laps at me in waves, each one higher and harder than the last.
I twist beneath him, caught between wanting to escape the intensity and needing more of it. My fingers grip his shoulders desperately, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
"Ruslan," I moan, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears.
I want to tell him that it's too much. But it isn't.
It's exactly what I need, what I've wanted, what I've been missing my entire life.
The cresting pleasure erases everything else. My fear, my past, even my name.
In this moment, I'm not a woman hiding from a monster that hunts her.
I'm just a woman being worshipped by a man who sees all of me.
His teeth graze lightly against my sensitive peak, and I cry out again, louder this time. The small hint of pain amplifies the pleasure, making everything sharper, more intense. My entire body tightens in response, coiling like a spring.
Ruslan's hand leaves my thigh, and I whimper when he slips beneath the thin material of my underwear.
For just a heartbeat, anxiety flutters in my chest. A ghost of memories I don't want to revisit.
But this is different. This is Ruslan.
His fingers move through my folds, and I gasp at the intimate contact. The sensation is overwhelming, both familiar and completely new at once.
"You're soaked, zarechka ," he murmurs.
Heat rushes to my face. I turn away, suddenly self-conscious about my body's eager response to him.
"Don't," Ruslan says, his free hand gently turning my face back to his. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. This is beautiful. You're beautiful."
His words wash over me, soothing my insecurity. I relax under his touch, letting my thighs fall open wider for him.
Then one thick digit slides inside me, and I cry out, my back arching off the table. The stretch is delicious. An intrusion that my body welcomes completely.
"Take me in," he encourages, slowly working his finger deeper. "Show me how much you want this."
His golden eyes hold mine captive as he begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me panting within seconds. The wet sounds of his movements fill the room, unbelievably erotic.
"Can you hear that, zarechka ?" Ruslan growls. "Can you hear how ready you are? How long you've waited for this? How long you've waited for me? "
I can't form coherent words, can only manage breathless moans as he adds a second finger, stretching me further. The fullness is exquisite, awakening nerve endings I never knew existed.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he asks, curling his fingers inside me, pressing against a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
"Yes…" I whimper.
His palm presses against my clit, rubbing it with maddening precision as the two fingers inside continue their relentless pace inside me.
"Please," I gasp, not sure if I'm begging him to stop or never stop.
"That's right, beg for it," Ruslan commands, his voice husky with desire. "Tell me how good it feels to have my fingers inside you."
"Your fingers feel amazing inside me," I gasp as pleasure radiates from my core. "So good... so deep..."
My words dissolve into moans as Ruslan works his fingers in and out. Every stroke sends electric shocks through my body, making coherent thought nearly impossible.
"Tell me more," he commands, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
"I love how you're stretching me," I pant, shocking myself with my boldness. "How you're touching me in a place that no-one else has ever touched. A place no one else is allowed to touch."
Ruslan's free hand suddenly captures my wrists, and pin them above my head on the table in one swift motion. The position leaves me completely open to him, vulnerable and exposed. My chest rises and falls rapidly as he holds me in place.
"Keep talking," he orders, tightening his grip on my wrists.
"I'm so wet," I moan, the words spilling from me without filter. "I've never been this wet for anyone but you."
He comes down to claim my mouth in a searing kiss that steals what little breath I have left. His tongue mirrors the movement of his fingers, thrusting deep and commanding. I'm completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on mine, his hand restraining me, and his fingers working magic between my legs.
All the while, those skilled fingers continue their relentless rhythm, never slowing, never giving me a moment to catch my breath. The heel of his palm grinds against my clit with each thrust, creating a perfect storm of pleasure.
I squeeze my eyes shut as my thighs begin to quiver uncontrollably. My entire body tenses as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak.
"Oh God, Ruslan," I cry against his mouth. "I'm close... I'm so close..."
Every muscle in my body strains toward release. My hands flex helplessly against his restraining grip. My hips rock desperately against his hand, seeking that final push over the edge.
"Open your eyes," Ruslan commands, his voice rough with desire. "Look at me, zarechka ."
I force my heavy eyelids open, struggling against the overwhelming sensations threatening to drag me under. His golden eyes capture mine, holding me prisoner just as surely as his hand around my wrists. The raw hunger I see there leaves my breath still in anticipation.
No one has ever looked at me this way before, like I'm something precious and wild simultaneously. Like he wants to possess me and worship me in equal measure.
"Look at me when you come for me," he says, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that makes my vision blur.
The intensity of his voice ignites something primal inside me. I'm exposed completely. Not just my body, but everything I've kept hidden in my soul. The need for connection. The yearning to be seen. The desperate hunger for touch that I've denied myself for years.
"Ruslan," I gasp, trying to hold his gaze even as pleasure threatens to overwhelm me.
"Yes," he encourages, never breaking eye contact. "Say my name when you come."
His fingers move faster, deeper, the heel of his palm pressing against my clit with perfect pressure. My body tightens around him, hovering on the precipice of release.
"I can feel you getting closer," he murmurs, his eyes drilling into me like his fingers. "Your body is telling me everything you need."
I'm trembling now, every muscle taut as a bowstring. The coil of pleasure winds tighter and tighter until I can barely breathe through it.
And still, I keep my eyes locked with his.
In those golden depths, I see something that breaks the last of my resistance and transform into acceptance. Complete and total acceptance of who I am, of my darkness and my light. Of everything I've been running from. Of…
"Come!" He commands and I obey.
"Ruslan!" I scream as the first wave crashes through me.
The orgasm rips through me like nothing I've ever experienced. Violent and beautiful and perfect. My body convulses around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure pulses outward from my core.
Ruslan's fingers slide out of me, leaving an emptiness that makes me whimper. I'm still quivering from the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced.
The only real orgasm I've ever received.
I watch through half-lidded eyes as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. My breath falters as he slowly, deliberately licks them clean, his golden eyes never leaving mine.
"You taste divine," he murmurs.
The sight triggers another pulse of desire despite my sensitivity.
"I had no idea," I whisper, my voice hoarse from crying out. "I had no idea anyone can make me feel this good."
"Not anyone, zarechka ," Ruslan corrects me. "Only I can make you feel this good."
Before I can respond, he leans forward and captures my lips in a deep kiss. The taste of myself on his tongue is shocking at first, tangy and intimate. But I find myself moaning into his mouth, chasing the flavor.
His hands move down my body, hooking into my underwear and slowly dragging the damp fabric down my legs. Cool air kisses my exposed center, and I shiver.
"Do you think we're done?" he asks, his voice dark with promise.
I look up at him, breathless and confused. "What?"
A knowing smile spreads across his face. "The marvelous thing about women, zarechka , is that you can have multiple orgasms. Back to back."
Before I can process his words, Ruslan moves to the end of the table and kneels between my spread legs, his broad shoulders keeping my legs spread while his eyes darken with hunger. His hot breath laves my soaked pussy as he looks up at me.
The position should make me feel vulnerable, but all I feel is anticipation.
And excitement that this powerful man—a bratva pakhan—is on his knees in worship of me .
"Eyes on me," he commands softly.
I prop myself up on my elbows, my body still trembling from the first orgasm.
When his mouth finally presses against my center, the sensation is so intense I cry out, my head threatening to fall back. But Ruslan's voice keeps me anchored.
"Keep staring at me," he orders, his breath hot against my most sensitive flesh. "Don't look away until you come again."
His tongue takes a long, slow swipe that makes my entire body jerk. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, my eyes locked with his as he feasts on me.
I don't look away from Ruslan's molten gold eyes as his mouth works magic between my thighs. Every lick sends lightning through my core, each gentle suck on my sensitive flesh makes my legs tremble uncontrollably.
"Oh my God," I whimper, propping myself up on shaking elbows.
The sound of his mouth against me is obscenely wet. Slick, hungry noises that should embarrass me but instead stokes the fire building inside.
I can hear him swallowing my pleasure, drinking down every drop my body offers him.
"You taste better than anything I've ever had," he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words sending new shockwaves through my system.
The intimate scent of our pleasure fills the space between us. Musky and sweet and primal. It mingles with his cologne, creating an intoxicating blend that makes my head spin.
His strong hands grip my thighs, keeping them spread wide as he devours me with single-minded focus. The contrast of his rough palms against my soft inner thighs only heightens every sensation.
"Ruslan," I pant, my voice high and desperate. "Please..."
He responds by circling my clit with the tip of his tongue before drawing it between his lips and sucking gently. The sensation is so intense that my body rises off the table.
"Don't you dare look away," he growls when my eyes threaten to roll back.
I force myself to maintain our connection, watching as this powerful man feasts on me like I'm his last meal. The sight of his eyes blazing with hunger nearly sends me toppling over the edge.
When he sucks harder on my clit, everything inside me detonates. The orgasm crashes through me with devastating force, somehow even more intense than the first.
"Fuck!" I scream.
But he doesn't stop. His mouth stays locked on me, drinking down the fresh flood of wetness as I convulse against his mouth.
My arms give out and I collapse back onto the table, unable to hold myself up anymore. My fingers find his hair, gripping tightly, but instead of pushing him away, I pull him closer.
"Don't stop," I beg, even as my body shakes uncontrollably.
Another orgasm follows immediately after, then another, and another. Each one crashes into the next, adding to the intensity until they blend into a single continuous wave of pleasure.
My consciousness fragments into pure sensation. His mouth, my pleasure, and our connection.
I'm trembling all over now, completely at his mercy, completely undone. My throat is raw and raspy from screaming. My body twists and writhes on the table as he refuses to relent, refuses to give me even a moment to recover until nothing exists beyond this moment, this man, this pleasure.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Ruslan pulls away, and I whimper helplessly.
My entire body is tingling. Every nerve ending feels like it's exposed and raw.
Even the cool air against my skin feels like too much stimulation. Almost as if my body has forgotten how to exist without his touch.
"I can't..." I whisper, my voice is hoarse. "I don't think I can move."
A small smile plays at the corners of Ruslan's mouth as he rises to his feet. His lips glisten with the evidence of my pleasure, and the sight sends another aftershock rippling through me.
"You don't need to move, zarechka ," he murmurs.
He bends down and scoops me into his arms with effortless strength. I melt against his chest, too boneless and spent to do anything but curl into the solid warmth of him.
The sudden shift in position makes my head swim, and I close my eyes, letting myself be completely vulnerable in his arms. My dress is somewhere on the floor, but Ruslan manages to grab it and drape it over my naked body as he carries me out of the dining room.
Each step he takes sends tiny ripples of pleasure through my over-sensitive body. I tighten my grip around his neck, burying my face against him to stifle the small noises that escape with each jolt.
"Careful," I mumble against his collar. "If you keep bouncing me like this, I might come again."
His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
We reach the staircase, and Ruslan ascends with the same effortless grace, barely disturbing me with his movements. I feel weightless in his arms, protected.
"Here we are," he says, finally reaching my bedroom door.
He pushes it open with his foot and carries me inside, laying me down on the bed with surprising gentleness. The soft mattress cradles my exhausted body, and I sink into it gratefully.
Ruslan leans over me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Tomorrow," he says softly, "we'll need to see our wedding planner."
I nod sleepily, the euphoria of multiple orgasms making my eyelids heavy.
He presses a kiss to my forehead, then to my lips. A gentle touch so different from the passionate ones we shared earlier.
There's tenderness in it that makes my heart flutter.
"Goodnight, zarechka ," he whispers against my mouth.
"Goodnight," I breathe back.
Ruslan straightens up, gives me one last lingering look, then turns and walks to the door. The soft click as it closes behind him echoes in the silent room.