“Hardly,” Levin says, shaking his head as he watches the two of them go. “Just–not her. She reminds me too much of Lidiya–and that wouldn’t be right for either of us.” He stands up slowly, stretching. “I can pass one lonely night with my thoughts. Maybe I’ll even be the better for it.” He glances between the two of us. “See you in the morning.”
When it’s only the two of us at the table, Max stands, coming around to sit next to me. He reaches out, his hand gently on my leg, brushing against my fingers. “Is this what you want?” he asks softly. “If it’s not, Sasha, I’ll understand. What I’ve done–”
I reach up, touching his lips as I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him firmly, moving closer as I speak. “This isallI want, Max. It’s all I’ve wanted for such a long time. But I need–” I swallow hard, feeling my heart twist in my chest. “I need to know that it’s real this time.”
Max’s expression turns pained for a moment as he leans forward, cupping my cheek in his hand. “Oh, Sasha,” he murmurs softly. “It’s always been real. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise.”
And then, before I can so much as breathe again, his lips are on mine.
It feels different from any kiss we’ve ever shared before. I can still feel a hint of that lingering fear, the reminder of how many times this has been torn away from me–but at that moment, I tell myself to let it go. I have a choice–I can choose to walk away, to protect my heart by breaking it one final time…or I can choose to make a leap of faith, and trust the man I love.
Hand in hand with him, I decide to jump.
His fingers brush along my cheekbone as his lips glide over mine, the tip of his tongue tracing the edge of my lower lip. So many of our kisses have been frantic, hurried, a passionate and desperate embrace borne of finally losing the fight against temptation. But this one is slower, gentler, a kiss that knows that we have all night, that we’ll have nights to come after this.
“Sasha–” Max whispers my name against my lips, a plea and a prayer, and I lean into him, my fingers curling into his shirt as I let my mouth part for his, wanting more. More of him, more ofeverything.
His tongue slides into my mouth, making me gasp as it tangles with mine, sending a bolt of lust through me. Our bedroom, wherever it is, suddenly seems too far away. I moan softly against his lips, arching into his hands that have dropped to my waist, a soft keening sound of need slipping from me.
“We should go find our room,” Max murmurs against my mouth. “We can continue this there–”
“Not yet–” I gasp softly as he nips at my lower lip, clearly unable to stop touching me long enough to move, either. “Let’s just go over there, for now. We’ll–before–”
My words are broken up by his kisses, his mouth still brushing against mine as his arms go around my waist, lifting me up off of the long leather-padded bench that we’d sat on for dinner.
“Just for a little while,” he says, his voice a low rasp, as if he’s trying to convince himself. “It’s too beautiful of a night. A little while, under the stars, and then we’ll go in–”
Itisa beautiful night, balmy and warm, with stars and the lights of Santorini glittering out past the softly waving gauze curtains. Max lays me down on one of the wide lounges, softly padded with white linen, big enough for three or more people. He stretches out next to me, his fingers trailing through my hair, and I’m well aware that someone could walk out at any time. But Levin has gone to bed, Adrian and Natalia are busy with their own plans for the night, and at this moment, with Max’s body so close to mine, I can’t bring myself to care if one of the staff walks out and catches us.
We’re only going to make out for a while,I tell myself, arching into him as his lips brush over mine again. But his body is hot and hard against mine, his cock rigid against my thigh through the strained fabric of his pants, and I don’t want to move. I want to stay just like this, Max’s hands gripping my waist as he deepens the kiss, his lust-filled groan wrapping around me as I reach up to run my fingers through his hair.
We stay like that for a long time, kissing and moving slowly against one another, Max’s hands skimming over the shape of my body as he kisses me again and again. I can feel the desire growing, an aching need that makes me moan helplessly as he tangles his tongue with mine again, his hips rocking harder against mine. I reach for his shirt, gasping as I drag it out of the waist of his pants, my hands sliding up underneath it to find hot, hard, muscled flesh as my fingers skim over his abs.
“Fuck, Sasha–” Max sounds breathless, breaking the kiss slightly as my hands skim along his hips. “We should–”
“Don’t stop.” My voice is just as breathless, soft and gasping, as I arch up to kiss him again. “Touch me, Max, please–”
He groans, a helpless sound as his hand slides to my breast. He cups it gently in his palm, thumb sliding over the nipple through the fabric of my dress. I didn’t have a bra to wear when I got dressed earlier, and it stiffens instantly under his touch, my back arching as I gasp and push myself into his hand, wanting more of the sharp dart of pleasure that ripples through me.
“Please–” I breathe as my hand slides down, cupping his cock through his pants. Max’s hips jerk forward instantly, pushing himself into my palm as we move together, both of us desperate for more.
His other hand tangles in my hair again, tipping my head back as he deepens the kiss. The gentle force of it makes me cry out again, a soft, needy sound as I stroke him through the fabric, wanting the hot feel of him bare in my hand. The hand on my breast slips into my dress, fingers skimming over my naked skin as he caresses me, his fingertips finding the same hard, aching nipple.
Every touch feels like it makes me come more and more alive, my nerves raw and sensitive, pleasure darting over me like electricity. I both want it to go on forever and want him to hurry up, to pin me down and push my skirt up, to slide all of that long, hard length that’s pressed into my hand inside of me. I want to be connected to him again, to be as close as we possibly can.
Max’s hand slides lower in the v of my wrap dress, slipping out of the fabric long enough to dip back in between the folds of the skirt. I gasp as his fingers brush against my inner thigh, sliding higher and higher as his mouth slants over mine, the two of us glued together as his hand moves closer to where I need it the most.
His fingers brush against the soft fabric of my panties, directly between my thighs, and he groans aloud. “God, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking back and forth, from just over my clit to the soaking material clinging to my entrance. I moan, rocking my hips against his searching hand.
“I want you,” I whisper breathlessly. “I want you so much, I–”
“I want totasteyou,” Max groans, his fingers catching under the edge of my panties, slipping under to touch the bare, smooth skin beneath. I’d shaved for him earlier, hoping that the night might end like this, and his deep groan of arousal as he touches the soft flesh makes me glad that I did. “Fuck,you’re so wet; I love when you feel like this–”
His cock twitches against my hand, straining against his fly until I half think he might burst out of it. It’s the last thought I have before his fingers dip between my swollen, sensitive folds, and my head falls back, a moan escaping me as his fingertips slip inside of me.
It feels so fucking good. I had no idea that the simple act of being fingered could feel as incredible as this does–just Max’s two fingers to the first knuckle, stroking shallowly inside of me as I clench helplessly around him. He teases me like that for a moment, his mouth sliding down my jaw to my throat, tongue tracing slow lines down the sensitive flesh–and then he pushes his fingers deeper, curling them as I turn my head to muffle my cry of pleasure.
“I can’t wait for you to squeeze my cock like this,” he groans, fingers thrusting as I clench and tremble around him, already on the verge of coming. All I need is a brush of his fingers across my clit, and I know that’s why he’s doing this, keeping me there on the edge so that he can torment me a little longer.