“Sweet mother of…” he groans as another spasm hits.
Sitting back on his heels, he drapes my thighs over his. One hand wraps around my neck, while the other slips between our bodies. The hold is possessive and dominant. He’s careful not to squeeze too hard as he picks up his pace. He hates leaving marks on me. The control etched on his face is stark and raw. He looks like a beautiful, wild animal.
Changing the angle of his penetration, he hits the spot that makes my toes curl. My eyes roll back as he adds pressure to the circles he’s drawing on my clit with his thumb. The rhythm of his hips becomes punishing, but it’s what I need. My pleasure is already climbing again. The dark lust twisting around my body and stealing my reason demands instant gratification. It unleashes an uncontrollable wildness that makes me lift my hips to take him harder and deeper. It creates a tunnel vision in which nothing exists but him.
I’m close, so close. I chase my release, meeting his every thrust. When he tightens his fingers around my neck, I almost come. I’m drunk on passion, barely registering reality when he pulls out and flips me over.
Before I have time to protest, he’s back inside me, taking me with relentless thrusts.
“I want your ass,” he says raggedly, folding his hands around my middle and pulling me up on my knees.
Leaning over me, he opens the nightstand drawer and removes a tube. He’s better prepared this time. He keeps a warm hand on my back as he unscrews the cap and dribbles cold liquid between my cheeks. The pressure of his cock on my dark entrance stills me.
He kisses my spine. “Tell me if I need to stop.”
The words reassure me.
I trust him with this.
I trust him with my life.
He works himself in slowly, and the discomfort is significantly less than the first time, though there’s still an extreme feeling of fullness, a sense of being stretched beyond my limits, of being invaded in a strange, unnatural way. But the burn that comes with the stretch only adds to my need, fueling my pleasure, and when he finally starts thrusting, I’m on the verge of coming again.
“Not going to last, princess.”
It’s been so long since he’s called me princess that the word jars me from my delirious state. Where he’s used the term in a derogative way before, now it’s laced with endearment. Pressing my cheek to the mattress, I watch him from over my shoulder. His face is tight with concentration, all his focus on me.
Fastening one hand on my hip and the other on my breast, he orders hoarsely, “Touch yourself.”
The moment I do, I know it’s over for both of us. My climax is like an electric shock. I’m falling apart and coming together all at once. My lower body tightens, triggering his release, and he plunges deep, then stills with a groan, his cock pulsing inside me. Warmth fills me, and it goes much deeper than flesh. The love I thought I’d never know spreads through my veins, melting the last of the numbing chill in my heart. It should be dirty, this joining of ours, but instead, it’s pure and whole. Beautiful.
Surrendering to Yan is the most meaningful act of my life.
We collapse flat onto the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I can hardly breathe, but I want to stay here forever and pretend there are no bars on the windows or defective cells in my body. I want to just lie here and love him, and pretend he loves me back.
“I’m crushing you,” he says, kissing my neck.
Too soon, the cocoon in which I’m hiding lifts. And there’s no transformation or butterfly, only stark, empty reality.
He pushes up, keeping his weight on his arms. “Take a deep breath.” He pulls out when my lungs expand, leaving an after-burn, but the pain is grounding. “Stay.” A command he loves giving.
He goes into the bathroom and comes back with a wet washcloth. After cleaning the spillage between my legs, he turns me over. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head.
“Painkiller?”
“I’m good.”
He dumps the washcloth on the floor and stretches out beside me, spooning me from behind. “Sleep.”
“I should have a shower.”
“Tomorrow. I like the idea of you sleeping with my cum in your ass.”
I swat his arm that lies snugly around my waist. “You’re so filthy.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
“I thought you’re not telling me when to sleep any longer.”
He nips my earlobe and nuzzles my temple. His lips stretch into a smile against my skin. “This time, you’ll want to obey.”
“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because tomorrow, I’m taking you to see your grandmother.”
29
Yan
Mina is in love with me.
I try to wrap my mind around it on the way to Budapest. It’s not what I expected, and so much more than I could’ve hoped for. How can anyone love me, let alone someone as guarded as Mina? At the same time, the attraction makes sense. We’re so much alike. We’ve both seen the uglier side of life, and we can be ruthless. Yet we’re both loyal as hell to the family we love. Not to mention, we both need a little more spice in our lives than most people.
Still, we’re a world apart. For all the numbing trauma of her past, she feels more, cares more for people than I do. I can see it in the way she interacts with my brother, and even Anton, to some extent. Her hard shell is just that, a shell. Inside, she’s vulnerable, fragile. Wounded. And there’s a soft side to her, a nurturing and caring part that draws me like a prickly thorn to a lamb’s wool.
Even now, as I sit opposite her in the Cessna Anton is piloting, my hand is resting on her knee. The hold may seem casual to an onlooker, but it’s
