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Mikhail lifts his head, trailing his mouth downward, leaving open-mouthed kisses on my stomach before pausing just above the juncture of my thighs. He glances up, catching my eye witha look so filled with possession and devotion that my pulse hammers even harder.
Slowly, he spreads my legs, the cool air hitting my skin for an instant before he leans in, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh. The anticipation coils tighter. My fingers clutch at the sheets, and I bite my lip when I feel his breath near my clit.
He touches me with the tip of his tongue—light, testing—sending a sharp pulse of pleasure that makes my toes curl. A soft cry escapes me as he grips my hips gently, holding me in place.
I can’t hold back the gasp that tears from my throat as he circles my clit, the sensation so overwhelming that my thighs tremble. He takes his time, lapping at me with deep, patient strokes, learning every response, drawing out each whimper and moan until I’m almost frantic.
My hands fly to his head, tangling in his hair, trying to ground myself against the onrush of pleasure. His growl of satisfaction vibrates against my skin, sending another wave of heat through me. He licks and suckles at my clit in a measured rhythm that makes my eyes roll back, and I feel the pressure building, building?—
“Mikhail,” I whisper, my voice ragged. I’m close to unraveling, each flick of his tongue winding me tighter.
He grips my hips, pressing me deeper into the mattress. My back arches, and I let out a broken moan as everything inside me tightens, then snaps. The orgasm hits me hard, pleasure coursing from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes. For a moment, I’m lost in sensation, my breath catching in my lungs. Mikhail eases me through it, his tongue continuing to lap at me.
I’m still riding the aftershocks as he slides back up, his cock nudging my thigh. I reach for him, pulling him closer, my body still pulsing, wanting more of him, always more.
He leans in, kissing me deeply, and I taste the faint salt of my own arousal on his lips. It’s dizzying, and all I can think is how right this feels.
With a low sound in his throat, Mikhail shifts his weight, sliding his hand down between our bodies. My pulse kicks as his palm grazes over my still-sensitive clit, and I let out a soft, helpless sound. I’m already over sensitized, and yet the hunger he’s stoked in me begs for more. My body arches up, seeking him.
Then he nudges my knees apart, and I feel the firm, demanding pressure of his cock against me. I drag in a shaky breath. My hands clutch at his shoulders as he sinks forward, inch by inch until he’s seated inside me. A low moan spills from my lips, and Mikhail’s eyes close briefly, like he’s savoring every second.
His pace starts slow, each thrust deliberate, as though he’s re-learning every contour of my body. Pleasure swirls through me, coiling tighter with each gentle push. My breasts press against his chest, still heavy and tender from nursing, and the sensation—his skin gliding over my oversensitive nipples—fuels the sweet, insistent ache building inside me.
“Mikhail…” I whisper, voice catching on another moan. I curl my legs around his hips, urging him deeper.
He responds with a groan of his own, picking up the pace just enough to make my head spin. The pressure at my core ramps up fast, toes curling against the sheets, my fingers digging into his back. His mouth finds mine again, and we share a desperate kiss as the sweet pressure inside me winds to a breaking point.
My mind fogs with that familiar, heady rush, and just when the pleasure becomes too bright to contain, I feel him thrust deeper, harder, pushing us both over the edge.
I cry out, a shudder ripping through me as wave after wave of pleasure courses through me. Mikhail follows, his thrusts growing more and more uneven until he comes with a shout, spilling himself inside me.
Slowly, he eases off, rolling to the side but keeping an arm around my waist, anchoring me to him. My pulse is still erratic, my lungs working to catch air, and I can’t help but smile against his shoulder.
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, and I watch him roll onto his side, a hint of a tired grin teasing his mouth. Soft lamplight spills across his sharp features and the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. My heart squeezes at the sight—a feeling that’s become achingly familiar.
I reach out, letting my fingertips graze his cheek. He catches my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. Gently, he pulls me closer, until I’m curled against the steady rise and fall of his chest.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The air feels warm with unspoken promises, and I can’t look away from the softness in his eyes. This man—who once terrified me, who stole me from everything I knew—has become the anchor I cling to. The force that calms my fears and holds my world together.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Mikhail’s gaze darkens with emotion. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I love you,kiska. More than I ever thought I could love anything.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and he brushes it away with his thumb. I remember the burning hatred I felt when I learned what he’d done—how he maneuvered my life, bound me to him. I remember the turmoil, the desperation to escape.
Yet here I am, tucked against him in a quiet room, content in the aftermath of a thousand storms. He’s my protector, my lover, my partner. The very thing I once despised has become my solace.
I rest my forehead against his. “You’re everything to me.”
His answering smile is all I need. And in the hush of the night, I finally believe that we have the promise of a tomorrow—together.
The End