Page 16

MIA

Yulian’s lips feel like fire.

His touch, his scent—it’s like cedarwood and ashes. Like a forest burning up in flames.

I shouldn’t let myself be swept in. Shouldn’t let him drag me back into hell with him, into that fiery passion that almost became our ruin.

But God help me, I do.

I kiss back once, twice. I kiss back a thousand times, until numbers stop making sense and all that matters is his lips on mine.

I can’t help it. He’s all I ever wanted. All I never wanted to lose. And after months of absence, being touched by him again—it’s like coming home.

You. You are my home.

I don’t realize we’re tumbling backwards until my butt hits the couch.

“Yulian—”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he rasps, voice like sandpaper. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Say it. It’s the rational part of my mind speaking—the one that remembers how painful it was to let go the first time around. Say you don’t want it. Tell him no.

But I can’t.

Because it would be a lie.

And there have already been enough lies between us.

“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “For the love of God, just don’t stop touching me.”

Yulian bites a Russian curse between his teeth. “ Blyat’. ”

Then his hands are on me.

They slide down from my face, hot like coals, and rip open my nightshirt. I’m left half-naked, with a flimsy pair of panties and nothing else, my breasts bare.

Yulian’s mouth claims them immediately.

“Fuck,” I gasp. “Yulian…”

It feels terrifying to be doing this with him again. To bare myself to him, let him see every vulnerable inch of me, let him kiss and bite and claim .

But it feels right, too.

It feels more right than anything else.

I arch into his mouth, losing myself to the feeling. Yulian’s tongue is sinful, his teeth dragging gasp after gasp out of me. I can already tell my nipples will be swollen and bruised in the morning, but right now, I can’t bring myself to care. All I can do is toss my head back and bite my tongue.

But how can I keep it down?

“Yulian,” I whisper, “m-maybe we should move to?—”

Suddenly, Yulian yanks me forward. I fall off the couch and into his arms. Softly, he lowers me onto the Persian rug.

“No,” he growls. “Want you now.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. Then it rushes lower, too.

“But Nikita, Eli—they’ll hear?—”

“They won’t.” He sounds so confident—so sure of it. “Do you trust me?”

How can I? my heart screams. How, when you’ve shattered that trust into a thousand pieces?

But my heart isn’t calling the shots right now. My body is.

And my body has never once been let down by Yulian.

“Yes,” I murmur.

Yulian’s eyes go dark. There’s barely any gray now—a night sky without a moon.

Then, before I can do anything else, he moves to kneel behind my head.

My back shifts on the rug. I crane my neck to meet his gaze, confused by this position. “Yulian?”

“Hush.” He presses one finger to my lips. “Don’t think. Just feel it.”

I have a thousand questions, but know better than to ask them. “Okay,” I whisper instead.

“Good girl. Now, close your eyes.”

I obey instantly. Something about Yulian’s praise goes straight between my legs. Distantly, I wonder if I shouldn’t seek a little therapy myself next time we visit Dr. Summers.

Then I can’t think at all, because Yulian’s cock touches my lips.

“Lift your chin,” he orders.

I do. Yulian’s hand comes to rest at the back of my neck, guiding me for a moment, letting me find the angle that will let me take it in from here. It’s unusual, but Yulian’s command rings through me: “Don’t think. Just feel it.”

I part my lips and take him into my mouth.

Heat spreads through my body. I’m so turned on, I could come on the spot, untouched, just from the taste of Yulian’s cock on my tongue. Salty, strong—exactly what I needed.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Easy now. We’re not done yet.”

I lick around the tip and moan. It comes out soft, muffled. Belatedly, I realize he’s doing just what I asked: keeping me quiet.

Then he leans forward.

I feel the shift of his hips, the change in angle. I tilt my head better to accommodate him, and feel him slide deeper into my mouth, almost to the back of my throat.

Suddenly, Yulian yanks on my panties. Hard—enough to snap the waistband, leave me fully naked.

Then I feel it.

His tongue, licking into me.

Oh, God. I’ve never done a sixty-nine in my life—is this what it’s like?

I moan harder around his cock, but again, barely a sound comes out.

“Moan as hard as you like,” he whispers against my wet skin. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you. You don’t need to worry. You don’t need to think.

Let me handle this.

Just like that, my brain turns off all the way.

I start sucking in earnest. Yulian’s taste is everywhere in me, but it’s not enough. I want him to come— need him to come, to fill me up.

My efforts make him groan. I can feel his mouth shift against my pussy, tongue reaching down to lick up all my juices. Every time it brushes against my clit, I feel like I’m about to die.

Yulian’s hands cup my ass, lifting me closer to his mouth. I dig my nails into his back, helpless. It’s too much, too fast, the pleasure overwhelming.

But I still can’t get enough.

Yulian’s cock hits the back of my throat. His hips start moving, driving into me. Slowly at first, then faster. At first, my body puts up a fight, but it doesn’t last long. Soon, my throat is open and relaxed, taking him in as deep as he’ll go.

“Fuck,” he groans into my pussy. “Just like that, kotyonok. ”

His praise lights me up from the inside. I want more. I need to hear that I’m good, that I’m enough, that I’m his.

His lips brush my clit. I buckle hard against his face, try to squirm away. It’s too intense—I can’t take it.

But he doesn’t let me run. His fingers dig into my ass, keeping me firmly in place as he eats me out. Forcing me to take the pleasure, all of it.

When I stop resisting, Yulian hums, “Good girl.”

I muffle a scream around his cock and come.

It feels like it goes on forever. I’m coming, and coming, and Yulian isn’t stopping. His tongue keeps licking, keeping me on that edge as long as he likes.

Then his thrusts pick up pace.

It’s too much. I’m still coming, still shaking apart under his mouth.

“Come on, kitten,” he croons. “You can take it.”

So I do: I suck, lick, scrape, let him fuck my face like I’m a doll. His doll.

When he comes down my throat, so do I.

This time, I don’t bother keeping track of how long it goes on. It still feels endless, the most intense orgasm of my life. After all those months of abstinence, I didn’t think I’d ever feel this good again.

When Yulian’s cock slides out of my mouth, I miss it immediately.

I open my eyes. For a second, our gazes meet. Yulian’s face is flushed, his hair messy, his beard glistening with my juices.

His cock is still hard.

“Fuck me,” I rasp. “Please.”

Yulian’s pupils blow wider. Then he’s kissing me again.

I can taste myself on him. Can taste him on my tongue, his flavor mixed with mine. It’s so dirty, but I don’t care: I want it.

I want him.

He moves between my legs. I practically claw his clothes off. I want to feel him, all of him, everywhere. This time, I don’t worry about making noise.

Yulian said he’d take care of it. The conviction in my mind is unwavering. He’ll do it. I can trust him.

Soon, two of his fingers slip into my mouth. Two more slip between my legs.

He starts pumping them at the same time, driving me crazy.

“ Blyat’, ” he grunts. “Look at you. So perfect for me.”

Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. Tell me again, I want to beg. Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m yours.

And he does.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he groans into my ear. “You can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?” I nod frantically. “Such a dirty little kotyonok. How long have you been wanting to be filled up again?”

Always. Every day.

“If you want it, show me.”

He doesn’t need to ask again.

I come around his fingers. It’s the fastest I’ve ever orgasmed without my clit being touched—the fastest anyone’s ever made me climax.

Yulian slips his other hand from my mouth, replaces it with his lips. Just like that, I’m sealed again, my voice caught between our bodies. Free to moan—to scream.

Then his cock starts pressing in.

I lose my mind completely. My ankles lock at the small of Yulian’s back, urging him deeper. I need him to fuck me faster, harder .

He doesn’t make me ask.

I have no idea how long it goes on. I lose track of everything: time, space, how many times I’ve come. All I know is Yulian’s cock is thrusting in and out of me in a brutal rhythm, and it’s perfect.

At one point, his hand moves to my belly. He feels the swell of it—his claim on me—and his thrusts grow savage. Like he wants to fill me up all over again.

“Do it,” I gasp into his lips. “Come inside me. Make me yours.”

And he does—over and over again.