Page 17

17

ERIK

S he’s kissing me.

Again.

All thoughts of keeping my distance out of respect for her while working to get Viktor the answers he needs fly right out of my mind, just like every other time she’s this close to me.

She’s intoxicating, and I throw myself down willingly at the mercy of her poison because I’m addicted.

I shouldn’t be.

But I am.

Everything about her utterly captures me, and the more I learn about her, the harder I fall.

It might have started as curiosity and lust, but something more profound is forming inside me.

I find myself eager to make her flash that small, hidden smile.

I want to find the softness in her eyes and warm myself with the knowledge that she’s fed and watered because of me.

I want to stare at her while the wind drifts through her hair and the sun warms her cheeks.

I want to hear her voice in my ear like my own inner thoughts.

I want to hear her talk about the things she enjoys, which seem so few in her current life.

All of that collides fiercely with my loyalty to Viktor and his own desires.

How do I make peace with my feelings for Anastasia while trying to bring satisfaction to the man who’s been like a father to me?

Right now, she’s winning.

The soft press of her lips against my own makes me float.

I breathe in, and her slightly creamy, fruity scent nestles into my lungs like some kind of aphrodisiac.

My temperature immediately shoots up, and warmth curls across the surface of my skin, mainly radiating from where her hand curls into my shirt and grips like some kind of lifeline.

I close my eyes and touch her cheek.

Her skin is soft underneath my fingertips and warm to the touch.

Strands of her hair brush against the back of my knuckles as I cup her face and slide my fingers into her hairline in order to firmly clasp her jaw.

Sliding my hand down until the edge of my palm rests against her neck, I thread my fingers around her ear and tilt my head to deepen the kiss.

She doesn’t let me go.

She kisses me harder and then her lips part, inviting me in.

I can’t resist.

I don’t want to.

My tongue slides past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth, chasing the lingering heat left from the tea she was drinking.

The cup clinks slightly to my right as she sets it down somewhere, and then her body melts against mine while our tongues weave and dance together.

She presses up so I press down.

She goes left, I go right.

We curl together, massaging and tasting the depths of one another until the desperate, small breaths through my nose aren’t enough.

We part quickly, gasping for air.

I open my eyes.

Anastasia’s cheeks are flushed red and saliva shines against her lower lip.

With her lips parted and her eyes slightly glazed over, she appears stunned and happy.

Then her lips press together and as I slide my thumb down the length of her throat, I feel her swallow.

“I…” She tries to speak, but her voice is already throaty, so I lean forward and kiss her, hushing her.

“Let me take care of you.”

She meets my eyes and nods.

I kiss her again, but this time I use pressure and my own body to press her down onto the couch and into the pile of cushions she’s been resting against.

A soft gasp escapes her when our lips part and I move my mouth to the sharp line of her jaw.

Her head falls back, and her hands move from my shirt to my shoulders.

When her fingers dig into my muscles, I graze my teeth lightly against her throat and draw another gasp from her parted lips.

I take my time.

Each kiss is soft and tender.

Each nibble against her jaw and throat is gentle enough to leave a subtle mark but bring no pain.

I map her out, from jaw to collarbone, until I’m certain I can redraw her from memory.

She’s panting and gasping by the time I reach the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

Bracing my bodyweight on one arm planted next to her shoulder, my other hand caresses her breasts and then follows the rumpled lines of her T-shirt down to the soft hem of her leggings.

I’m about to ask her if she wants more, but just as I part my lips and take a breath, her hips suddenly jerk up into my touch and it’s all the answer I need.

Dipping beneath the waistband of her leggings, my fingers slide into the warmth built between fabric and skin.

Anastasia’s hands cup my face and she pulls my head up to press a kiss to my lips just as my fingers reach her panties.

A subtle flash of pain throbs across my lower lip as she bites down just enough to get my attention.

My revenge comes in sliding my hand deeper into her underwear until my fingers press between her soaked outer lips and I’m lost to the searing heat of her pussy.

Anastasia arches up against me and a deeper, more sultry moan rolls from her lips as I press my fingers between her soaked folds and stroke across her clit.

A jolt moves through her body.

One hand remains gripped on my shoulder while the other slides up into my hair.

She winds strands around her fingers and grips on, but it’s nothing too tight.

My fingers work through her folds, stroking and caressing around her clit, then through her inner folds and gently pressing inside her.

Each time I’m knuckle deep, I retract and tease her clit once more.

Anastasia’s moans deepen, and her face utterly enraptures me.

Her brows repeatedly knit together.

She stares up at me but then eventually closes her eyes and presses her head back into the cushions.

I study the subtle flickers of pleasure that dance across her features, from the parted lips to the constant swallowing, the shallow breaths and the way she rocks her head from side to side each time my fingers slide inside her.

She’s like an instrument, and I’m playing her to the sound of her beautiful moans.

Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she pulls me down an inch, then uses the grip to pull me back like she can’t decide where she wants me.

Higher and higher she whimpers with her body rolling up against me.

Our legs are tangled together but they shift back and forth, seeking purchase in order to thrust her hips up further.

I watch it all.

Suddenly, her eyes fly open and our gazes lock.

“Erik!” she gasps sweetly, then her eyes roll back in her head and she comes with a breathless moan.

Her pussy clamps down around my fingers and her chest rises to meet me while her back arches.

Each rippling pull of her muscles draws my fingers a little deeper inside her, and I continue my attention to help her through her orgasm.

I don’t pause until she slumps back against the cushions, panting.

“Holy shit,” she whimpers, licking her lips with a dart of her pink tongue.

“Wow.”

“I’m not finished yet.” I kiss her again, trying to catch a flick of her darting tongue, and then I detangle her hand from my hair and move down her body.

She’s rather boneless as I remove her leggings and panties, and it isn’t until I press a kiss to the inside of her silky, warm thigh that she speaks again.

“You don’t have to,” she says in a scratchy voice.

“I never do anything I don’t want to do,” I assure her, though a small voice in my head highlights how blurred our lines are considering she pays me.

Settling down on the couch, I slide her legs over my shoulders and immediately press my face against her swollen, hot pussy.

Anastasia jolts and gasps.

Her thighs tighten about my head, and something about the way she grinds up against my face when I slide my tongue through her soaked folds sends a spear of pleasure straight to my dick.

But my focus remains on her.

Burying my face against her pussy, my tongue delves against her folds and seeks out her clit.

Hardening my tongue to a point, I’m flicking back and forth as the muffled sound of her louder moans drifts down around me.

Hands land on top of my head, and she can’t seem to decide between pressing my head down or gripping my hair and holding on.

One of my own legs slips down to the floor, but the new angle allows me to thrust my tongue deep inside her alongside my fingers.

I alternate between that and licking over her clit and sealing my lips around it to suckle hard in between strokes.

The heat she radiates is enough to sear me down to the bone, and I love it.

Her sweet taste bursts over my tongue, and I tongue-fuck her harder just to drown myself in her juices.

My mind calms, and nothing else matters but the sounds of her whimpers, gasps, and moans.

Her thighs repeatedly flex around my head, and the heels of her feet tap-dance down my back with each roll of pleasure that takes her.

This time when she comes, it’s loud, but it’s muffled in some way.

Her legs crush me, sending a thrill of arousal straight through me, and I moan myself as I continue to eat her out until the last tendrils of orgasm have faded.

When I pull away, Anastasia has her fingers stuffed into her mouth to muffle herself.

It’s easy to forget that this is a secret.

“See?” I say with a sly smirk.

“I’m here to take care of you.”

She huffs out a laugh and looks utterly beautiful with rosy red cheeks, a flushed throat, and sparkling eyes.

“Maybe I should faint more often.”

“Maybe,” I tease.

“Though you really should get some proper rest.”

“Not yet,” Anastasia says, and her eyes drop down to the tent in my slacks as I stand.

“Come here.” She reaches out to me with one hand, and when I accept it, she pulls me down onto the couch next to her and slides on top.

“Take off your pants.”