Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
THORA
It’s been hours since he left, and I’m starting to wonder how long business meetings are supposed to take.
Part of me worries whoever shot him last time will come after him again, but I don’t want to nag or make him feel like I’m checking up on him, so I don’t bother calling.
Instead, I lie across his bed with Volchok beside me, his massive head—which weighs more than a small child, by the way—plopped on my stomach.
I scroll through my phone and try to ignore the missed calls and texts from my family staring back at me. Makes me feel like a total bitch that I haven’t called back, but I don’t have anything to say at the moment.
I texted Mama, telling her I was back in New Jersey and that I’d be taking a break from the farm for a bit.
She said she understood, but when she asked where I was going, I didn’t answer.
None of them would understand my relationship with Anton.
Greer definitely doesn’t, and knowing her, she’s probably already told everyone enough to make them worry.
Volchok perks up before I hear anything, his ears lifting and his tail thumping once against the mattress. A second later, rough footsteps echo up the staircase, and I know it’s Anton before the bedroom door even opens.
Volchok lets out a low, unhappy hum as I push myself up from the bed, personally objecting to me leaving after giving him attention for the last few hours.
“There you are.”
Anton barely gets one foot inside before I cross the room and throw my arms around his neck, while his hands grab my waist.
“I missed you.” My face presses against his chest before I pull back to look at him. “Am I allowed to say that?”
His lips twitch with a half-grin. “You can say it. I don’t mind.”
“I’m so glad.” My mouth grazes his cheek, then his jaw, and when his palms tighten at my waist, I stop teasing and kiss his lips, unable to get enough of this. “How was your meeting?”
“Good.”
“That’s it?”
“It was a meeting.” He shrugs. “People talked. I was bored. All I wanted was to come home to you.”
“Nice save.” I nod slowly. “I’m starting to get impressed with your boyfriend skills.”
“See? I’m learning.”
“I can tell.” I suck in a deep breath and brush my mouth over his again. “I like this.”
“What?”
“Being able to kiss you whenever I want now.”
He groans, his hand sliding into my hair before he kisses me, passion dripping between us as his tongue slides past my lips, swirling with mine.
Heat rushes through me as he flips us around and pins me against the wall, his palm sliding up my thigh, rough fingers dragging over bare skin before finding the edge of my panties through my loose shorts.
The first slow press of his fingers through the fabric makes my knees go weak. He flicks my panties over and guides his fingers through my slit, letting out a rough growl when he finds me already soaked.
“Clearly, you did miss me.” The devilish grin he wears only sets me off even more.
My core is throbbing, my nipples achy and needing his mouth and touch to take the pain away. My fingers knot in his shirt as he slips two fingers inside me, thrusting slowly before tipping my chin up and forcing me to hold his stare.
“Anton,” I breathe against his mouth, my body growing desperate.
“You’re killing me, printsessa.”
His mouth descends along my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while I fist his hair. His fingers continue fucking me, his thumb rolling around my clit until I’m hovering on the edge, desperate for the final push.
The instant I palm his cock through his trousers, a guttural sound rips from him. He catches my wrist, trying to stop me, but I stroke him anyway, watching his features harden as his fingers plunge farther inside me.
“You’re a bad girl.” His teeth catch my lower lip before his mouth moves along my jaw. “I came home to tell you something.” His fingers circle my clit with just enough pressure to make my hips follow his hand. “Not to fuck you.”
My shaky laugh dissolves into a whimper when he quickens his pace. “You’re doing a terrible job.”
His rough laugh vibrates against my skin as his fingers slide out, then drive back inside me with urgent strokes. “That’s because I can’t control myself around you.”
I turn in his arms and arch my ass against him, looking over my shoulder as his hard cock presses between my cheeks. “Let’s see how true that is.”
“Nu blyat, ty menya zeryozna ubivayish.”
“I think you need to start teaching me Russian.”
Keeping my back pressed to his chest, I reach behind me and catch the collar of his shirt, tugging until he bends over my shoulder and brings his mouth to mine.
He comes willingly, one hand working his pants open while the other tangles in my hair, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
He shoves my shorts and panties down, bends me over, and buries himself inside me with one punishing thrust.
“Yes. Yes, Anton!” My cry breaks as I brace my palms against the wall and take every brutal stroke.
“Ty ostaneshsya moyey.”
His pace turns merciless, his palm cracking across my ass and leaving a delicious sting behind. He reaches between my thighs to strum my clit while his cock pounds the perfect spot, each thrust pushing me closer.
“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come.”
A rough curse tears from him as he fucks me faster, the slap of skin filling the room while my orgasm builds toward the breaking point. I arch into him, desperate for the release rushing closer.
“Give it all to me, detka.” His fingers dig into my ass before another hard slap lands. “Take what you need.”
I tighten around his cock, feeling every thick stroke as his command sinks into me. When his fingers sweep my clit again, the pressure finally breaks. My orgasm tears over me, my pussy clenching around him as pleasure consumes every nerve.
His release follows with a grunt, his body locking behind mine. “Take it all.”
He pumps faster, filling me as his cock pulses inside me, each thrust turning rougher before his rhythm gradually slows. When it’s over, his arms band around me and hold me against his chest, his mouth peppering kisses down my neck while he remains buried inside me.
Being held like this feels almost more intimate than everything that came before. He fits into a place inside me I hadn’t known was empty, and the thought of being away from him already hurts.
I reach behind me, dragging my nails over his scalp as I guide his mouth to mine, our lips moving softly together. “So, what did you have to tell me?”
Anton kisses the side of my neck while his fingers drift between my thighs again, toying with my swollen clit until my oversensitive body jerks against him.
“I did some digging on your family after I left the meeting, which is why it took so long. I didn’t want to tell you unless I found something. ”
Everything inside me goes still as I push off and turn to face him.
“Tell me everything.”
He pulls his pants up, zipping back up. “Your mother might have had a sister, but it looks like June remembered the state wrong. It’s not Kentucky. It’s Kansas.”
That gets my attention.
“There’s a woman with Mara’s maiden name,” he goes on. “Close enough in age to be her sister, and I found old records connecting her to the Hales before she moved.”
This could be my aunt.
“Can we go see if it’s her?”
“Yeah.” He grabs my waist and drops his body over mine. “But not for a few days. My brother will start wondering if I disappear again, and I need to handle some things here first.”
A few days seems like too long, yet not long enough at the same time.
“Okay.” I throw my arms around his torso. “I can wait a few days.”
“Good.” He bends, grabs me behind the thighs, and lifts me off the floor, his eyes boring into mine as he stands there staring at me.
“What?” I laugh. “Do I have something on my face?”
He shakes his head, and my heart beats faster as he takes me in like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“You’re…” His knuckles coast over my cheek. “You’re beautiful. I didn’t know beauty could hurt until I looked at you.”
My pulse gives a sharp thump and tears fill my eyes, though I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I know a bit about his past. How little love he had, how badly he might’ve wanted it—or worse, never even knew what it felt like to have it.
I reach down and clasp his face between my palms, lowering my mouth to his and kissing him slowly, taking my time with every brush of our lips.
My legs wind around his waist, my arms circling his neck as he carries me toward the bed.
Volchok jumps down with an irritated grunt when Anton lays me across the soft mattress, and the feeling of his body covering mine sends need rushing through me all over again.
“Take it off,” I whisper.
His gaze flits over me.
“Your clothes.”
His jaw grinds as he rises on his knees, then the shirt comes open, button by button, revealing ink and scarred skin and all that hard muscle I’ve touched. Then he stands, unzips his pants, and shoves them down with his boxers.
My fingers ache to trace every mark, but before I can reach for him, he steps closer, catching my ankle and dragging me to the edge of the bed. I grin as his palms slide up my legs, and he yanks my shorts and panties down, spreading me open as his eyes take me in.
“You’re…” Strain pulls at his features.
“What is it?”
He goes quiet, and when he speaks, the confession rocks the very depth of me.
“You’re my first, Thora.”
“What do you mean?” I sit up, unable to comprehend what he’s saying.
He catches my foot and presses a kiss to the arch before guiding me onto my back again. Then he spreads my thighs, and the instant his tongue glides up my center, the question vanishes beneath the rush of need.
But that only lasts a second, because I need to know.
“Anton, what did you mean?” Grabbing his bicep, I wait for his answer, bracing myself up on my elbows.
He holds my stare long enough to send my heart flipping.