Page 81

I can’t speak. Warmth radiates against my palm as her body shifts slightly with every breath. There’s a baby in there. Growing inside her.
My baby.
Our baby.
“Three months?” I murmur, thinking back to the first time we slept together. Surely, that means it was fate?
I look up at her and when our eyes meet, warmth spreads out across my chest and the urge to weep tickles behind my eyes once more. I’ve hurt her. The one thing I swore never to do, and I did it.
“Anastasia—”
“Shh,” she murmurs, her own eyes misting over. Then, without a word, she surges forward and her lips collide with mine.
I don’t deserve a kiss.
But I’m so greedy for her that I’ll take it and more. I’ll take everything she wants to give me and I won’t stop until she has all of me.
Maybe it was the conversation, or maybe it was just the touch, but something drives Anastasia into my arms, and I can’t turn her away. We kiss like it’s our first and last kiss, all at the same time. My hands roam her body and pull her close when she slides off her stool. Her hands tug at my T-shirt, then slide up into my hair and pull hard enough to make me gasp.
I tell myself it’s just a kiss.
But it’s so much more than that. Her kisses turn desperate and when she pushes her body against me, I’m powerless to resist. She’s in my arms pushing up against me, then she’s hopping up onto the bar and dragging me between her legs. Each kiss begins soft but quickly dissolves into warring tongues and a flash of teeth. Her fingers turn to claws against my neck and as her teeth nip my lower lip, she tugs insistently at my shirt.
I should ask her what this means.
Maybe I should even stop this to make sure it’s the right move.
But I can’t.
She’s a drug and I’m so addicted to her. The taste of her lips, the softness of her skin underneath my fingertips as our clothes rumple and shift, the warmth of her thighs as she pulls her dress up and wraps her legs around my waist, the silkiness of her hair as I twist it in my palm and force her head back.
When I kiss her throat, her pulse races against my tongue and she moans loudly. When I pull her panties aside, she curses me. When I thrust into her tight, slick heat and pound deep inside her where I want to belong, she pulls my hair and bites at my shoulder to muffle her sounds of pleasure.
I was made for her. Every piece of me was molded for her, and I’ll gladly give myself to her over and over again, even if she just wants to throw me away afterward. Our kisses are a war for dominance and I don’t give up without a fight. She scratches down my back as I pound into her, fucking her harder and faster as she tightens her legs around my waist and demands more, more, more.
I give her everything I have.
I ache to fuck so deep inside her that I stay there, exactly where I belong. That way, I can care for her the way she deserves. My thighs ache, my back throbs from her scratches, and each time she bites my lower lip, my thrusts falter in their rhythm. I’m pounding into her like each thrust is the next lyric in my apology.
I love her.
I fucking love her.
Before long, Anastasia is screaming out her pleasure across the bar as she tightens her grip on me and pulls me so close that we become one. We come together, gasping and trembling with each powerful surge of pleasure that passes and rebounds between us.
For a few minutes, I forget everything.
It comes back in a rush when I move to kiss her again and this time, she turns her head away.
The moment is over.
She pulls away completely, pushing at my chest, so I take a step back and my softening cock slips out of her. Anastasia hops down from the bar and passes me my T-shirt as she adjusts her dress, then she looks up at me with a sad smile.
“Erik.”
“Anastasia,” I say, clutching my shirt in my hands. “Please… I’m so sorry that I hurt you. Let me make it up to you. Let me prove to you that I meant everything I said because I will do that. I will do that until my last breath.”
She wavers. I can see the debate raging in her eyes as she sorts herself, and then she sadly shakes her head.