Chapter 40 #2
“How are your brothers doing? You all need to start visiting your mother more often.”
“Caine and Roman are fine Ma. They send their regards, and you know Caine, he wants a batch of your special cookies.”
When the dishes are cleared and my mother shoos us upstairs with a smile, I take her hand and lead her down the familiar hall to my room.
The moment the door shuts, it’s like the air changes.
She doesn’t hesitate when I guide her into the bathroom.
I made sure a bath was ready for us. Steam clings to the mirrors, curling thick around us as the water laps against porcelain.
I undress her slowly, reverently. I sink into the tub with Anastasia between my legs, her back pressed against my chest. The water is warm, lapping at her shoulders, carrying the faint scent of lavender I slipped into it.
The world falls away, leaving just her soft sighs and the sound of water lapping against porcelain.
The heat seeps into my muscles, but nothing unwinds me like the feel of her soft skin under my hands.
My hands rest on the edge of the tub, caging her in without touching.
She breaks the silence first. “I like your mom.” Her voice is soft, almost shy, the kind of admission she doesn’t give easily.
My brows lift. “Do you?”
“Mhm.” She tips her head slightly, enough that I feel the brush of her temple against my jaw. “She’s kind. Gentle. Not what I imagined from… your family.”
I take my time. My palms glide over the delicate line of her throat, her shoulders, down her arms, circling her wrists before bringing them to rest over my thighs. A low laugh rumbles in my chest, vibrating against her spine. “You expected another Ivanov shark in pearls?”
Her smile ghosts across her lips. “Something like that. But she looked at me like I wasn’t… damaged goods. Like she didn’t see all the cracks.”
That twists something sharp in me. I lower my mouth close to her ear.
“She doesn’t. She never will.” My mother has a way of peeling back armor without you noticing.
She tilts her head back when I start to lather her hair slowly, my fingers massaging into her scalp, working through each strand.
She leans into me, trusting me completely, eyes closed as if surrendering is the most natural thing in the world.
I hesitate, then ask, “What about your mom, will you tell me about her?”
Her body goes still, and for a second I wonder if I’ve pushed too far.
But then she exhales, water rippling with the movement.
“Well, you know that she died when I was fifteen. Car accident.” Her voice is quiet, stripped bare.
“It was so sudden. One second she was there, the next…” I don’t interrupt.
I just listen, the steam rising around us, wrapping her words in something fragile.
“I used to think I’d always feel her,” she says, fingers drawing restless lines along the water’s surface.
“Like she’d be woven into everything. But sometimes…
sometimes I forget what her voice sounded like.
And when I realize it, it feels like losing her again. ”
The ache in her words lodges under my ribs.
I slide my hands forward, resting them gently on her arms beneath the water, grounding her against me.
“Do you miss her?” I ask, even though I already know.
Her head tilts back against my shoulder, eyes closed, lashes damp.
“Yes, all the time. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe,” she whispers.
“We used to plant peonies every summer, they were her favorite. Now, they’re mine, too.
Every time I see them it feels like I’ve got a little piece of her with me. ”
I press a kiss to her wet hair, tasting salt and steam.
If I could take that pain and drown it in this bath, I would.
But all I can do is hold her, and let her know she isn’t carrying it alone.
Her lips part, her chest rising and falling against mine.
It’s not just heat, not just want. It’s something deeper, something I can’t name without choking on it.
She lets out a quiet sound—half sigh, half moan—and it rips through me.
“Careful,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, “you keep making noises like that, and I’ll forget all about washing your hair. ”
Her lips curve into a smile, eyes still shut. “Oh yeah, or what?”
Fuck. She doesn’t know what those words do to me.
I tip her head back, rinsing the soap out, watching water spill over her throat and chest. My lips follow, brushing the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her neck.
She shivers beneath me, heat chasing every drop of water I touch.
“You’re dangerous,” I whisper, my mouth trailing over damp skin.
“Sitting here in my arms, looking at me like you do. You think I’ve got any chance of keeping control?
” She finally opens her eyes, turning just enough to meet my gaze.
There’s mischief there, but softness too.
“I don’t want you to.” Her hands grip my shoulders, nails biting faintly as she shifts closer, pressing against me.
Heat coils between us, water sloshing higher with every movement.
“Eryx…” she whispers, breathless, pleading.
My restraint snaps like a wire pulled too tight.
I haul her closer, her slick body sliding against mine, and kiss her like I’ve been starved for it.
The water splashes over the edge of the tub, but I don’t care.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging, urging me deeper, closer.
Every brush of her mouth, every gasp she gives me, coils heat low in my gut until the steam isn’t just from the water anymore. It’s us, burning.
I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in, forcing myself to slow down before I lose myself completely. “You have no idea how much I want you,” I rasp, dragging my thumb over her lower lip. “No idea how hard it is not to take everything right here, right now.”
Her answer is simple, devastating. “Then don’t stop.”
And I know, watching her in this tub, wrapped in steam and candlelight, that I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone take this from me.
I smile, dark and certain, before pulling her back into another kiss.
This one slower, deeper, every bit of it a promise of what comes next when the water is no longer enough to hold us.
Anastasia
He flips me so that my back is to him again. His hands trail up and down my body, caressing every curve. My legs are spread wide, as much as the tub will allow. His hand traces the contours of my thigh until his fingertips reach my core.
“My girl is always so wet for me isn’t she?” He coos in my ear. His fingers rubbing small circles, gliding up and down my slit.
“Yes,” I breathe out. I’ve never been so infatuated with anyone like I am with him. Every part of me wants all of him on me. I want to be consumed by him.
“Is this all for me?” He asks, his other hand gently massaging my breast.
“Yes, all for you. Always.” I breath out. I feel him beneath me. Hard and ready.
“I bet I could just slide in here if I wanted to right now, couldn’t I?” He inserts two fingers, curving them so they rub against my wall. His thumb on my clit. I lean my head back on his shoulder, “Please,” I plead.
“You know I love it when you beg.” He inserts a third. “Is that what you want Nastasya, you want me to fill this pretty pussy of yours full of my cum?”
I’m so close now. “Oh god, don—” but my words are cut off by his hand gripping my throat.
“Shh baby, there’s no god here. Only me.
” Then he slowly adjusts me so that he’s sliding in me agonizingly slow.
Making me feel every inch of his thick cock.
His pace never wavering as he thrusts inside me.
His fingers still rubbing circles on my clit.
I hate how good he is at keeping me on the edge.
Making me ride this out as long as possible.
He moves his hand from my throat and places it under my thigh. Bringing my knee to my chest. “Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me.” He kisses my neck. “Let me feel you fall apart. Let me feel you come on my dick baby. Then I’m going to fill you up.”
And fuck do I want him to. I want to feel all of him.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight baby.”
I’m so close now. My back arches up, but he doesn’t let me get away.
He holds me close, speeding up, “Come,” he commands me, and I do.
My body convulsing in his arms with the overstimulation to my clit.
He follows behind me with a grunt as he spills inside of me.
We sit there in the water, in each others hold, not wanting to move.
Everything about this moment feels right.
After a little while longer he gets out and holds out a towel for me. I stand and try to take it but he swats my hands away and wraps me in the towel before carrying me to the bed.
“What are you doing? I’m still wet and I need to dry my hair,” I say. He takes my towel, throwing it on the dresser sitting in the corner of the room. “What, you thought we were done? I still haven’t had my dessert.” A dark and hungry look in his eyes.
He then proceeded to eat me out like a starved man and fucked thrice more. Against the wall, bent over the dresser, and lastly in the shower. When I had to condition my hair again. Told him I was not going to sacrifice waking up to tangles just because he wants to fall asleep still in me.
The libido of this man. Oh my poor vagina. Sorry not sorry girl. The man knows exactly what my body needs.
As always, he puts me in one of his shirts, and I fall asleep wrapped in his arms. And damn this man, I think I’m in trouble. I swore I wouldn’t put myself through this again. Not after Thoren, not after Aiden, but yet here I am. I think I’m falling in love with him.