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Her eyes flutter open, that impossible blue darkened to midnight. "Yes," she whispers, voice hoarse. "I didn't know... I never imagined..."
I smile against her lips, tasting the salt of exertion on her skin. "That was only the beginning,kisa."
I shift my hips, still buried inside her, and watch as her mouth forms a perfect 'o' of surprise. Despite having just come, I'm hardening again within her tender heat. The evidence of her virginity stains the sheets beneath us—a crimson badge that stirs something primitive in my chest.
"Already?" she gasps, eyes widening as she feels me swell.
"For you? Always." I withdraw slowly, savoring the friction, before thrusting back with deliberate force. "Turn over."
Confusion flickers across her features, but she complies when I guide her, rolling onto her stomach. I lift her hips, positioning her on her hands and knees. The sight of her like this—ass raised, back arched, hair cascading down her spine—nearly brings me to my knees.
"Mikhail?" Uncertainty colors her voice.
I run my palm down the curve of her back, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake. "I want to take you like this. Deeper. Harder." My hand finds the slick evidence of our joining, stroking through it. "Can you handle that,kisa?"
She shivers, pressing back against my fingers. "Yes."
Her pussy is still slick with her arousal and my seed. The penetration is smoother this time but no less intense. She gasps as I fill her completely, the new angle allowing me to reach places untouched before.
"God," she chokes out, fingers clawing at the sheets.
I grip her hips, establishing a rhythm that has the headboard striking the wall in steady percussion. Each thrust draws a breathless moan from her lips, each retreat a whimper of loss. I reach around to find her swollen clit, circling it with my thumb.
"Come for me again," I command, voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "I want to feel you break apart."
Her body responds instantly to my touch, trembling on the precipice. I lean over her, chest to her back, and sink my teeth into the tender junction of her neck and shoulder. The sharp pain pushes her over the edge—she convulses around me, a sob tearing from her throat as pleasure crashes through her for the second time.
The tight, pulsing grip of her body triggers my own release. I drive into her one final time, holding her flush against me as I spill myself deep inside. For a moment, the world narrows to this single point of connection—her body joined with mine, our breaths synchronized, our heartbeats thundering in tandem.
We collapse together onto the mattress, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and ragged breathing. I gather Kira against my chest, unwilling to break our connection just yet. Her small form fits perfectly against me as if designed specifically for this embrace.
"Sleep now," I murmur against her hair, feeling her exhaustion in the boneless weight of her body.
She turns her face toward mine, eyes heavy-lidded but searching. "Is it always like this?" she whispers.
I trace the curve of her cheek with my thumb. "No,kisa." I press my lips to her forehead. "It’s never been like this for me." As soon as I’ve uttered the words, my heart clenches with guilt.
It's the most honest thing I've said to anyone in years. In my world of calculated moves and strategic alliances, this—whatever this is between us—wasn't part of the plan. As I watch sleep claim Kira, I'm struck by something unexpected, something I hadn't accounted for in my calculations.
Her lashes cast delicate shadows across her cheeks in the dim light. The storm has gentled to a steady rain, a rhythmic lullaby against the windows. I trace the outline of her lips with my gaze, memorizing the slight part, the fullness that had been wrapped around me earlier. Her breath comes in soft, even measures now.
Something tightens in my chest, an unfamiliar ache that spreads outward. I've wanted her from the moment I saw her—that much I understood. Desire is familiar territory. But this... this feels like standing at the edge of an abyss with no bottom in sight.
I brush a strand of auburn hair from her forehead, and she murmurs something unintelligible, nestling closer to my warmth. In sleep, the defiance that so often hardens her features melts away, revealing the youth beneath the bravado. Twenty-two. She's barely more than a girl, yet she faced me with the courage of a seasoned warrior.
The realization slams into me with the force of a bullet: I care for her, not just as a possession, not just as a body to warm my bed. I care for the spark in her eyes when she challenges me,the tremble in her voice when she stands her ground despite her fear.
"Fuck," I whisper into the darkness, my voice barely audible.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Kira was just a means to an end, a wife in name only, not someone who would infiltrate my heart. Yet here I am, feeling the weight of betrayal towards my Alina. I’m torn, caught between loyalty and this unexpected pull.
I stare at Kira's sleeping form, the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the silk sheets. Moonlight spills through the window, casting her in a silvery glow that softens the sharp edges of my bedroom.
I run my fingers through my hair, careful not to disturb her as I shift my weight on the mattress. She makes a slight sound—something between a sigh and a murmur—and turns toward me instinctively, her auburn hair spilling across my pillow like liquid copper.
"Forgive me," I whisper, though I'm not sure if I'm speaking to Kira or to a ghost. “I never meant this to happen.”
Chapter 11