Chapter 11 Rurik
Rurik
I watch her slump onto the sofa opposite me, the weight of the day crashing down on her like a wave she can't outrun.
The news drones on in the background, cycling through headlines that no longer matter.
Not to me, at least. Not when Jessica is here, her green eyes shadowed with exhaustion, her body still carrying the marks of what we've done.
She's a storm contained in fragile skin, and every instinct in me screams to shelter her from it.
"Don't," she whispers, but her voice lacks conviction. It's laced with the same confusion that's twisting her up inside, the same heat that's been simmering between us since the moment our paths crossed.
"Please, Jessica. Let me."
I don't wait for more protest. I rise from my seat and cross to her in two strides, dropping to one knee in front of her. Her breath hitches as I reach for her, my hands gentle but firm on her knees, parting them just enough to slide between.
She's still in that damn skirt and blouse, rumpled from earlier, and the sight of her like this, vulnerable, spent, yet radiating that quiet fire, stirs the primal thing in my chest that I only discovered yesterday.
"Rurik..." Her voice is a soft warning, but her body betrays her, leaning into my touch as I run my palms up her thighs, pushing the fabric higher. I can feel the tremor in her muscles, the lingering ache from our encounters in the office.
"Shh," I murmur, my eyes locked on hers. "You've fought enough today. Let me take care of you."
I start with her blouse, my fingers deft on the buttons, popping them open one by one. The silk parts like a curtain, revealing the lace bra beneath, her skin flushed and marked faintly where my grip was too tight earlier.
I slide the blouse off her shoulders, letting it pool on the sofa behind her. She doesn't resist; instead, her head falls back slightly, a sigh escaping her lips as I trail my fingertips down her arms, raising goosebumps in their wake.
"You're beautiful," I say, my voice low and rough. It's not flattery, it's a fact. Every curve, every freckle, every inch of her is mine now, and I intend to worship it properly.
Next, the skirt. I find the zipper at her side and ease it down, hooking my fingers into the waistband along with her panties, which are still damp from before. She lifts her hips without me asking, helping me slide them off in one smooth motion, leaving her bare from the waist down.
Her legs part wider instinctively, and the sight of her exposed like this, glistening and ready, sends a surge of heat straight to my groin.
I lean in, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, then higher, tasting the salt of her skin. She gasps, her hands finding my hair, threading through it as if to anchor herself. "Rurik, you don't have to—"
"I want to," I cut her off, my breath hot against her core. "I need to taste you. Taste us. Need to make you forget everything but this."
I don't linger or tease. Not tonight. I part her folds with my thumbs and dive in, my tongue flat and broad as I lick a slow, deliberate stripe from her entrance to her clit. She arches off the sofa with a cry, her fingers tightening in my hair.
The sweet, musky taste of her, mixed with the faint salt of my own release from earlier drives me wild. I groan against her, the vibration making her hips buck.
"Fuck, Jessica," I murmur between laps, sucking her clit into my mouth and flicking it with my tongue. "You taste like heaven."
She whimpers, her thighs trembling around my ears as I devour her.
I slide one hand up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple through the lace until she moans louder, her body writhing under my assault.
The other hand joins my mouth, two fingers slipping inside her easily, curling to hit that spot that makes her shatter.
She's so responsive, clenching around me, her arousal coating my chin as I work her relentlessly.
"Rurik—oh God, please—" Her words dissolve into gasps, her back bowing as the tension builds. I can feel her climbing, her muscles tightening, and I double down. I suck harder, thrust my fingers deeper, until she breaks.
She comes with a shattered cry, her whole body convulsing, flooding my mouth with her release. I drink her down, lapping every drop, drawing out her pleasure until she's shuddering and spent, her hands falling limp from my hair.
Only then do I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I look up at her. Her eyes are half-lidded, her chest heaving, a soft, sated smile tugging at her lips. She looks utterly wrecked in the best way.
"Good girl," I whisper, pressing one last kiss to her inner thigh before gathering her clothes and scooping her up into my arms. She's light, pliant, curling against my chest without protest as I carry her through the suite to the bedroom.
The bed is massive, sheets crisp and cool as I lay her down gently. She murmurs something incoherent, already drifting as I pull the covers over her, tucking them around her body like a promise.
"Sleep," I say, brushing a strand of red hair from her forehead. "You're safe here."
She nods faintly, her eyes fluttering shut, and I watch her for a moment longer, the possessiveness swelling in my chest until it's almost painful. This woman has upended my world in a day, and I'll be damned if I let anything touch her now.
I leave her there, closing the bedroom door softly behind me, and head back to my desk in the living area.
The governor's mess won't resolve itself, and with Lena back in the picture, the game just got more complicated.
I pick up my phone, already dialing contacts, my mind sharpening back to the edges of control.
She'll sleep, and when she wakes, she'll know exactly where she belongs.