Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Xeniya Morozova
Moy Oduvanchik.
Fear spiked in my stomach, and for a moment, I had no idea where I was. A shiver ran down my back, and I felt a gentle caress on my shoulder.
I moaned, the sensation so wonderful.
But then my eyes jolted open.
“Hello, Moy Oduvanchik.”
Shock filled the chambers of my heart. I stilled, feeling him behind me, his heat, his presence—everything. His hand still stroked my back. I blinked and then again. What was happening? Where was I?
I peered down, realizing I was very, very naked under the sheets. But were they my sheets?
I took in a slow inhale that turned shallow. No, they didn’t smell like me. They smelled like him—the same man who was currently stroking my back.
Moy Oduvanchik.
Severin Volkov.
Then it all hit me. Him punching my date, chasing me down in the quad, touching me, kissing me, and then leaving.
I groaned.
Kill me now.
I pulled the white sheets up to my chin and rolled over to find him kneeling beside his bed, his head now inches from my face.
I blinked slowly, staring at him, holding my breath. He didn’t move away. Instead, he planted his hand on his bed and watched.
He tilted his head, his gaze stroking over my entire body like his hand had just done over my neck and shoulder.
And once again, I realized I was naked… and what that could mean to him.
Did he think I planned this? That I wanted him to find me naked? Was it an invitation to him?
“I… I… sometimes when it’s—”
“You undress in your sleep when it’s hot,” he interrupted. “I know.”
I pulled the sheets tighter to my chin like they were a shield. “How do you know that?”
His eyebrows wiggled with amusement, but he didn’t say a word. Severin exhaled slowly, controlled, not moving any closer. But his eyes were liquid blue, scanning over me and filling with lust.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest.
I pushed up on one elbow, my hair loose and spilling over my shoulders. Loose hair? I had braided it.
The sheet clung to my skin, my hard nipples pushing into the fabric.
Oh, God. This was embarrassing.
I swallowed. “Could you hand me some clothing?”
I was not going to have any conversation with him while naked.
Severin only stared at me for a long moment. Motionless. Not even his chest rose with breath. But then he grunted and leaned over to grab his shirt and boxers, which I had thrown on the floor. He handed them to me, but he still didn’t move.
“Could you look away?” I asked, taking the shirt between my fingers.
Severin shook his head, the vein in his neck pulsing. “No.”
He wanted to watch.
I just stared at him with disbelief for a moment before realizing he was completely serious.
Either I had to duck under the sheets to change or call his bluff and change with his eyes locked on me.
But it wasn’t a bluff, was it?
He wanted to see me naked.
And what did I want?
I had no fucking idea.
But fuck it. Without taking my gaze from his, I dropped the sheet and exposed my breasts fully to his view.
His biceps tensed, veins straining beneath his skin, while his fists knotted in the sheets instead of reaching for me.
Slowly, I put my arms through the sleeves and pulled his shirt over my head. Then I pulled all of the blankets off and swung my feet over the bed, placing my pussy dangerously close to Severin’s face. All he had to do was reach out and grab my thighs, and he would have full access to me.
But he didn’t move.
Instead, his gaze was latched onto my naked pussy, his chest rising hard with the effort of holding back. Slowly, I bent down, my face inches from his as I pulled his boxers up my legs and over my ass, taking the show away altogether.
The whole time, Severin didn’t move or speak.
Silence settled between us, and neither one of us even flinched. I let the moment stretch, waiting. Tension clawed at my insides. We were mere inches apart, and the distance felt like both nothing and the size of the Grand Canyon.
I wanted to reach out and run my fingers along his jaw and through his hair. I wanted to tell him everything, from the fear coiling in my stomach to my deep feelings for him—feelings I’d never be able to comprehend or speak out loud.
But the truth was dangerous. I was the first to get annoyed by the miscommunication trope in my romance books and on TV shows, but as I stared at Severin, I fully understood it: the truth could end everything.
What if one of us confessed our feelings just for the other not to reciprocate?
It would ruin our friendship completely.
What if we did kiss and have sex, and it was just meaningless to him?
I’d have to serve him in the Bratva forever.
I’d have to watch him get married and have children.
He was the heir to a kingdom, and I was simply a hacker.
My job would always be to support the Volkovs and uncover information for the Bratva, and one day his role would be to lead everything.
And what if he did love me and we did fuck, but he still had to marry someone else? Would he expect me to be his mistress forever?
There were no options that ended well between us.
And yet… I still wanted him with everything I was.
I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. My touch was gentle and soft. Curious.
Shadows fought in his eyes, but he was still a stone statue, waiting for me to speak first and make the first move.
“I’m afraid,” I said, my voice lower than a whisper.
“Of me?”
“Of course.” The corner of my mouth tipped up. “Of course, I am.”
The shadows deepened in his irises. He didn’t say a word, but his hand reached out and held my thigh. He studied me with a cautious eye.
“Nothing is more terrifying than the truth,” I said.
Severin’s second hand settled on my other thigh before he opened my legs and shifted so he was kneeling between them. It was intimate, but not sexual. It was more like he was kneeling before his queen, asking her to command him.
“Severin,” I breathed, my hands slipping down to his face. “I thought about you every single day, too. You are like a willow tree with roots carved deep in my soul, and I don’t ever want to carve you out, Moya Iva.”
His grip tightened, just slightly, my words hitting him deeply. Then he turned his face into my palm and pressed a kiss there. It wasn’t soft. It was far more like a claiming than anything else. But still, no words left his mouth.
He was going to make me say everything.
“Severin, I’m scared.” The confession barely made it past my lips.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. That was my first kiss, and you surprised me, and as you know, I don’t handle surprises well.
I want to kiss you. I desperately want to kiss you, but I don’t know how, and I am afraid…
” My words went on and on, an anxiety spiral flooding out of my mouth.
“And you’re so experienced, and I don’t want to be bad…
and I am afraid that I am just another conquest and that will kill me—”
Severin fiercely dragged my ass to the edge of the bed, cutting off my words completely. “Would you like me to kiss your pussy, or your mouth first?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “I—what?”
His thumb brushed my lower lip, slow and intentional.
“I think you very much understood the question.” His voice was like smoked whiskey. “Your pussy or your mouth, Xeniya Morozova?”
“I, uh—” My brows drew together. I had no fucking idea. My pussy? That was an option? Heat spread over my cheeks.
“Shall I decide?”
I bit my lip. Yes. Yes, I wanted him to decide. I wanted him to control everything. But I didn’t even know how to say that.
“Your pussy it is.” His fingers curled around the top edge of my boxers, but stilled. He tipped his chin up to better scan my face, waiting for my full permission. I had a feeling this would be the last time he’d ever be so accommodating.
I nodded.
I expected to feel tense or afraid because of my past, but I didn’t. I trusted him completely. I trusted him to do whatever he wanted to me.
Severin slowly, gently, tauntingly pulled the boxers down over my ass and down my legs. The pads of his fingers caressed my skin with every movement. He was drawing out each moment, edging me, torturing me—making it so I would beg him to continue.
I wouldn’t.
He lifted my feet, one leg at a time, out of the boxers before throwing them over his shoulder. Then he ran a finger up the inside of my calf. Slowly, oh so fucking slowly. By the time he made it to my knee, I was panting and desperate.
Severin liked to play with his prey.
A whimper escaped my lips when he languidly circled my kneecap with his thumb. His eyes drifted to me, but he didn’t move his hand up my thigh; he circled my knee, waiting. A wicked smile stretched across his face.
I sucked my lower lip into my mouth.
“Beg me.”
No.
He laughed at my obvious refusal, and his fingers stilled for a moment.
I whimpered again before groaning. Then his thumb climbed farther up the inside of my leg, tracing along my inner thigh and up to the base of my pussy, but he still refused to touch any of my folds.
Instead, his finger traced along the crease of my thighs.
He did this over and over again until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Please. Please, Severin.”
“Please, what?” he asked, his breath caressing my pussy lips.
“Ah.” My eyes closed, not knowing what to say. “Please, touch me… I don’t know…” And because I had no idea what to say, I simply clutched his hand and placed it where I wanted it. “Here.”
“Oh, here?” His eyes lit up with mirth as he ran a finger from my clit to my entrance.
“Ah. Oh… fuck.” My body fell back onto my elbows. “Yes, there.”
“All you had to do was ask.” He hooked my legs over his shoulders and pulled me farther off the bed. “But I think I’ll use my tongue instead.” His fingers dug into my ass as his tongue flicked against my clit before traveling down and licking me from my entrance and back up.
He feasted on my pussy, and it wasn’t soft. It was all-consuming, his tongue fucking me in and out of my core until I thought I might faint.
My head hit his mattress, and I could no longer hold myself up on my elbows, and my moans fell from my lips. Pressure built in my core until it ruptured, and I shook with the best orgasm I had ever felt in my entire life.
My bones melted into my body, and I no longer existed, but Severin didn’t stop there. He kept going, his tongue fucking me until I saw stars—like actual fucking stars.
He bit my inner thighs, stroked my clit, and inserted two fingers into my pussy as I screamed without any care for who could hear me—or the fact that my brother’s room was right next door. I didn’t fucking care.
I fell apart again and again until I passed out completely.
I had no idea how long I was unconscious, but I woke up to a cold sensation on my neck and his lips on mine.
What was happening?
I blinked a couple of times, and he pulled away to look me in the eyes. He held a cold washcloth to my neck to gently wake me up. “I figured you might be able to relax more and get out of your head if I exhausted you first,” he whispered against my lips before pressing them once more to mine.
My breath hitched and got stuck at the back of my throat. And I froze for a tiny second, surprised once more, before I gave in and just let the sensations carry through me.
Severin was right: by exhausting me, he got me out of my head. I was able to feel the way he slanted his lips over mine right before his tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine.
And I was lost. To him. To the moment. To passion.
I became completely undone, and I allowed myself to kiss him back.
My fingers curled into his shirt, and I pulled him closer, needing to feel more of him—simply needing more. I was clumsy at first, having no idea how to do any of it, but I learned quickly. He was a great teacher.
I followed his lead, mimicking the pressure and angle of his body and the way he took and took and took until my lungs burned and my heart ached.
His hand slid into my hair, and he roped it twice around his fist before tightening and pulling me closer, leaving me captive and unable to escape his grip.
A soft sound slipped from my throat.
I apparently liked him rough. I think I liked it far, far too much for my own good.
“Moy Oduvanchik,” he murmured against my lips.
Mine.
The words didn’t feel soft anymore. They felt like a brand, like ownership. It felt like I might never have a choice ever again when it came to him.
And it was then, in that moment, I knew Severin Volkov would be the death of me. He would end me, and I would never survive it.