Page 11 of Hostage with Benefits
“From hostage to fiancée in less than two weeks,” I said, trying to lighten the moment before I did something embarrassing like cry or say I love you back. “Is that some kind of record?”
“For me, certainly.” His glanced up, still kneeling, his hands warm around mine. “I've never kidnapped anyone who irritated me into falling in love before.” He rose, pulling me to my feet with him. His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer. “Now, I believe this calls for a celebration.”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, though the heat in his eyes made his intentions clear.
His answer was to devour me more than kiss me.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs. His hands had slipped beneath my shirt, warm against my skin.
“Here?” I asked, glancing at the dining table. “ What about?—“
“Everyone has the morning off. I made sure of it, remember?”
The thought of being fucked on the table where anyone might walk in despite his assurances, sent a thrill of arousal through me.
His hands moved to the buttons of my shirt, deftly undoing them. “Besides, you'll need to practice being quiet if you're going to be my wife. My business associates don't need to hear what I can do to you behind closed doors.”
“Confident,” I remarked, but my breath hitched as his fingers brushed against my collarbone.
“Not just confidence. I have experience to back it up now.” He pushed my shirt from my shoulders, his gaze darkening as it traveled over my body. “I now know exactly what makes you scream, Natalia. And I intend to use that knowledge thoroughly.”
He backed me against the table, lifting me to sit on the edge. Dishes clattered as he pushed them aside, making space for me to lie down. His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below my ear, making me gasp.
“Remember.” He nipped at my earlobe. “Be quiet.”
His hands made quick work of my remaining clothes, leaving me naked and exposed on the polished wood. He stayed fully dressed. But when he looked at me, what I saw in his eyes wasn't dominance but reverence.
“Beautiful,” he said softly, hands skimming up my thighs. “Mine.”
“Yours,” I agreed, the word still new and strange on my tongue.
He dropped to his knees between my legs, hands pushing my thighs apart. I was completely open to him, exposed and vulnerable. I bit my lip as his breath ghosted over my core.
Then his mouth was on me, hot and insistent. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.
His tongue found my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to drive me wild but not enough to make me cum.
I tangled my other hand in his hair, tugging lightly. He hummed against me, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through my body. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open as he feasted on my pussy with single-minded focus.
It was exquisite torture, being forced to stay silent while he systematically dismantled my control. He slid two fingers in, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his tongue continued its relentless attention to my clit, I had to bite down on my palm to keep from crying out.
He knew exactly how to read my body, when to ease back, when to press harder, how to keep me hovering on the edge of release without quite letting me fall. By the time he finally, finally let me come, I was trembling, sweat-slicked, and desperate.
The orgasm crashed through me in waves, all the more intense for having been delayed. I bit down on my hand hard enough to leave marks as my body convulsed around his fingers and mouth.
He worked me through it gently, easing me down until I was boneless and spent. I lifted myself on my elbows, trying to get a look at him still between my legs.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “So quiet and perfect for me.”
He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a gesture that should have been crude but somehow wasn't. His eyes were dark with arousal, but he made no move to undress so he could take his own pleasure.
“What about you?” I asked, still breathless.
“Later,” he said, helping me sit up. “This was for you. A proper celebration requires time I don't currently have.”
“Business?”
“Unfortunately.” He gathered my clothes, handing them to me with unexpected tenderness. “I'll be back for dinner. We can continue this then.”
As I dressed, I caught him watching me.
“What?” I asked, putting on my shirt with hands that weren't quite steady still .
“I still can't quite believe this is real,” he admitted. “That you're real. That you said yes.”
I looked down at the ring on my finger, the diamond catching the light. It was heavier than I'd expected, reminding me that this wasn’t a dream or a delusion.
“It's real,” I said softly. “For better or worse.”
“For better,” he insisted, stepping closer to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “Only for the better.”
After he left for his mysterious “business,” I remained in the dining room, the reality of what I'd agreed to settling over me gradually.
I was engaged. To a man I'd known for less than two weeks. A man who had kidnapped me from a parking lot while I was holding frozen dumplings.
What the hell was I doing?
And yet, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. I couldn't imagine taking the ring off, telling him I'd changed my mind. Whatever this was, it felt more real than anything else in my life.
When Mikhail returned that evening, I was waiting in the foyer. When he saw me, his expression brightened with genuine happiness.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked, noticing my serious expression.
“No,” I said honestly.
He crossed to me in three long strides, gathering me against him as if he couldn't bear even today’s brief separation.
“My Natalia,” he whispered against my hair. His arms tightened around me. “Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“For staying. For saying yes. For seeing me as more than what I am.”
I pulled back enough to look up at him, at this dangerous, complex man who had somehow become essential to me in the span of two weeks.
“I see you exactly as you are,” I corrected. “That's why I said yes.”
And as he bent to kiss me, I realized it was true. I saw him, both the darkness and the light, the danger and the tenderness. And as impossible as it seemed, I was choosing him, with my eyes wide open.