Chapter 21 Sera #2
“I don’t—” Alik groans, dropping his head, cutting me off from whatever turmoil he’s going through. “I hate what happened,” he forces out. “I hate what they did to you. Hate how terrified I was when I saw that asshole trying to strip you. Hate that I almost couldn’t stop him in time.”
“But you did.” I feel the need to comfort him even though I don’t understand why. “You shot him and we got out in time and, honestly, I was doing fine until someone dumped champagne on me and everyone saw those numbers…”
Holy shit. The numbers.
I completely forgot about the numbers. I look at my chest. My PJ tank top is dry now but barely holding on by a one strap. It’s torn in multiple other places, but it doesn’t matter which way I tug it or how much skin I expose, the numbers aren’t there.
“I don’t understand. I saw them. A row of them. They were there.” I’m as freaked out as I sound. I didn’t imagine it. I’m not losing my mind. “I saw them. Everyone did.”
I rip my top over my head, press my palms to my bare chest, trying to feel for the thing I can’t see.
There’s nothing but empty skin. Alik is trying to catch my hands, but I’m moving too fast, frantic with the need to figure out what’s been written on me.
I don’t realize I’m clawing at myself until blood blooms beneath my nails.
“Sera, stop. Stop.” Alik succeeds in manacling my wrists, pulling my arms until they’re above my head, pressing them against the door.
We’re both breathing hard, both staring down at my exposed skin. The longer we look, the angrier the scratches become. The more swollen my breasts. The harder my nipples.
Alik is so close I can feel the not-so-subtle shift of his body. The tension that grips him from head to toe. The solid press of his erection against my stomach.
This would be the perfect moment to say any number of things.
About the thing that looked like a tattoo on my chest. About what it means and who put it there and why I’ve only just seen it tonight.
About whether or not Alik really hates me.
About the bizarre tug of war we keep playing with each other.
Any or all would make a lot of sense, but the only thing I can think about, the only thing I can manage to say is, “Why did you kiss her?”
God help me, I’m jealous and now Alik knows it. I expect him to grin, to gloat, to rub it in. Instead, he drags his gaze up from my breasts, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted, his hands trembling around my wrists. “I didn’t.”
“You did. I saw you.”
Alik drops his forehead to mine. Brushes our noses together. “She kissed me, Sera. I’d never kiss that woman.”
“You’re not with her?”
Alik’s laugh is pained. “She was my access to the club. A necessary evil. Nothing more.”
He is staring at my mouth. I open it, slip out my tongue. Watch his pupils dilate as I wet my lips. Shiver when his cock gets even harder. “I think you were lying,” I whisper.
Alik’s attention drifts back down to my breasts. His grip on my wrists tightens. “About what?”
“You don’t hate me.”
He groans something in Russian and it sounds so desperate I can’t help but smile.
Because I’m desperate too. Insane with it.
Reckless with it. I push my stomach against his cock, have to bite my tongue when a rush of arousal arrows straight to my core.
Have to suck in a breath when Alik crushes his body against mine, his shirt rough and absolutely amazing against my nipples.
When Alik looks at me, his pupils are so blown his eyes are almost black. “The only thing I hate about you, moya voitelnitsa, is how much I fucking need you.”
Need. It’s the only word that makes sense, the basic necessity that explains what I do next.
I kiss him.
Hard.
He kisses me back, just as violently. I moan and I feel his answering groan somewhere deep inside me. It unravels every rational bone in my body. I no longer care about what I should or shouldn’t do. I just want him. Now, before he has the chance to walk away for the third time.
I twist my arms until Alik lets me go, his hands dropping to my face. He digs his fingers deep into my hair. He tips and angles my head, manipulating my jaw until I’m open-mouthed beneath him, giving him access just the way he wants.
His touch is possessive, domineering. I love it. Love how hard he’s pressing me against the door, love how hard his cock is against my stomach.
With my hands free, I’m able to feel him everywhere. His neck, his shoulders, the narrow cut of his waist. I half expect him to stop me, to pull away at any second. Instead, my touch seems to drive him on.
He licks deep into my mouth, my neck arching under the onslaught.
I drag my nails across the fabric covering his stomach. He thrusts his hips against me.
I drop my hands to his fly and he growls, the sound harsh and primal.
He bites my bottom lip, and I practically melt against him, butterflies dive bombing in my stomach before settling deep in my core. I feel a rush of arousal soak my underwear, every part of my body instantly too hot for clothes.
All the while, Alik keeps kissing me, his fingers skimming my cheek bones, my neck, the underside of my jaw.
Like he’s mapping my face as he conquers me with his mouth.
We’re both so lost in it I’m not sure either realizes that I’ve pushed my PJ bottoms and underwear off until I wrap a bare leg over his hip.
I’m entirely naked and he’s entirely clothed and the contrast sends my blood pressure sky high. I remember how the woman in gold writhed against him in the club and it’s like my body has decided to outdo her. I rock my hips into Alik, lapping up the sound of pleasure that escapes him.
He grips my hair hard, angling my head back, whispering words I don’t understand as I fumble with his belt, his fly. He sucks at my neck and my fingers clench, my whole body lighting up as he exploits a sensitivity I didn’t know I had.
“Oh, God.” I squeeze my eyes shut, my head pressed against the hard wood door as he licks and nips the line of my throat. Every touch fires up a part of my nervous system that’s been dormant until now.
The more systemic his onslaught, the more reckless I become. My hands have a mind of their own, my fingers tearing at the fly of his pants and dipping into the opening. His cock is right there. Thick, insistent, just begging to be touched. I love how it feels in my hand, so hard yet so silky.
One squeeze, and Alik thrusts into my grip. “Shit, Sera. You shouldn’t—”
I shouldn’t but I can’t stop. So, I stop him from saying anything.
I kiss Alik, curling my tongue around his, stroking and licking until I see stars behind closed eyelids and there isn’t a single reason in the world to not wrap my other leg around his hip, slide the head of his cock through my soaked slit, and notch him right where we both need him to be.
He’s hot and heavy against my entrance. Our breathing is ragged, echoing in the empty front hall. Alik’s eyes are dazed when they meet mine, his throat working overtime and his shoulder muscles bunching as he holds me up by my hips.
For one awful second, I think he’s going to stop, to reject me. I’m on the precipice of something too big to understand and I need him here, with me. I don’t know much about anything else right now, but I do know that.
I pour every ounce of that certainty into my eyes and hold my breath.
Alik stares at me, his shaft throbbing at the entrance of my pussy.
I grip his shoulders, nod.
Alik’s eyelids fall, his breath catching as he pins me against the door and slowly impales me with his cock.