I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my nails into his shoulders. I think I’m going to orgasm and he hasn’t even moved yet.
When he does move, every powerful stroke feels different, almost like he’s touching me for the first time. His thrusts leave the confinements of my body and hit something different inside, almost as if he’s fucking my soul.
“There will be no more goodbyes between us, Princess.” He speaks against my neck, his voice raspy, aroused, but also angry.
I pull back, still looping my arm around his nape, and stare at his face…his beautiful, ethereal face that’s now bruised and bloodied.
Kyle powers into me with the same depth, but his pace isn’t fast. Maybe he also wants to stare at me. Maybe, like me, he feels that our joined bodies are only a bridge for our battered souls.
My fingers stroke the skin of his cheek lightly to not hurt him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what happened to you. No child should ever go through that.”
“I thought you were sorry for poisoning me.”
“You know I did what I had to do for the brotherhood.”
He wraps a hand around my throat and cages me firmly in place. “How about your fucking husband?”
“It’s because you’re my husband that I wanted you gone.” I strain against his hold, and before he can say anything else, I seal my lips to his. I kiss him slowly, tentatively, as if I have no clue how to kiss. Truth is, before him, I never took the time to learn. I hardly had interest in the other sex or sex in general, but he somehow became my deepest, darkest desire—the one I can’t survive without and the one who might also kill me at the same time.
Kyle’s rhythm picks up and he rams inside me with the urgency of a man who has nothing behind him or before him so he can only live in this moment. Our tongues and teeth clash together, and I keep tasting the metal of his blood, but if it hurts, he doesn’t pull away.
His urgency matches mine. I can taste the desperation in his kiss and feel the unbound obsession in each of his thrusts.
It doesn’t matter that I said goodbye or that this is only temporarily. At this moment, all I can do is get lost in him and pray there will be no way out.
His fingers tighten around my throat and I feel my walls clenching around his dick at the same time. He’s all over me, inside me, around me, and it’s impossible to escape his hold.
The piercing blue of his eyes captures mine as his touch leaves the confinement of my skin and shoots straight into my chest.
He said I poisoned him, but he’s the one who poisoned me. He’s the one who’s firing an arrow at my heart, and I have no way to stop it because he destroyed my fortress.
The orgasm hits me like a slow-burning explosive. I moan, shaking, as tears slide down my cheeks.
Kyle kisses them away as his abs tighten and he spills inside me. I’m tempted to close my eyes to soak in the sensation, but I don’t. I prefer watching him instead, even if his face isn’t the same as usual.
We’re both panting, his breaths mingling with mine, and a sheen of sweat covers our skin.
I lay my head on his shoulder, but I remain silent because the moment I speak, everything will end and I will have to return to the bleak reality where he really has to leave.
And this time, I don’t know if I can handle it.
13
Kyle
Rai is fast asleep, her lips parted slightly and her golden locks splayed all over the pillow.
I’ve spent the last hour watching her; the slight flutter of her thick lashes, the steady rise and fall of her chest under the blanket, and how peaceful she looks—safe almost. Her fair complexion appears bluish in the darkness, ethereal, and so fucking appetizing I want to take her all over again. But at the same time, I love how she drowns into me as she sleeps. How she wraps her hand around my torso and intertwines her legs with mine.
She’s so beautiful, it’s maddening.
My obsession with this woman runs deeper and darker than I originally calculated. The thought of putting distance between us felt like ripping my heart out from between my ribs.
I think it started when I first met her. When Nikolai introduced her to me with a gleam in his usually bland eyes, I wondered what could have made the merciless leader of the New York Bratva so proud.
At the time, I thought she looked normal like all American-born Russians with her head held high and her eyes sparkling like she wanted to discover the world and all of its galaxies in one lifetime.