Page 21 of Twisted Prince
My bleeding heart. If words alone could cut me open, I’d have bled out on the spot. “No,” I promise. Running my fingers through the short hair at his temples, I try to find a way to fix the damage I’ve done.
His eyes shift from mine, dropping to my throat, and one hand reaches tentatively to brush the tender shadow of bruises Zmeya left behind. Gleb misses nothing. “Mel,” he urges gently.
“Well, okay, I mean, no one raped me. Obviously, they touched me because it’s not like they told me to get in the van, and I was just like, ‘Okay!’ You know me well enough by now to guess how cooperative I was about doing anything they said.”
That draws a rare chuckle from Gleb, and the low, soft sound makes my heart skip a beat. What I wouldn’t give to be able to make him laugh all the time.
“But really, Gleb, I’m fine. Your timing was impeccable—as always.” I give a cheeky grin, but this time, all I get is the hint of a smile in his eyes. “Now, please, can we stop talking about it? I don’t want to think about other men tonight. I want to know what it feels like to be with someone who respects me as a person, someone who makes me feel safe and thinks of me as more than just a piece of property. I want to feel what it’s like to be with a man who cares about how I feel. Because if this past year has taught me anything, it’s that I might not get tomorrow, and I need to feel something good and right with someone I choose before I die.”
Gleb releases a heavy breath, his fingers traveling from the tender points on my neck to trace the lines of my face. His fingers brush across my cheek, his palm curving along my jaw as his thumb strokes my lower lip.
All are caresses that would have made me cringe in the past, attention that would have brought bile to my throat and raised goosebumps on my flesh. But now, it just makes my heart flutter with anticipation.
“I can promise you tomorrow,” he murmurs, his voice dark and haunted. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mel. Never again.”
A laugh bursts from me because, as perceptive as Gleb is, it’s like he’s intentionally missing my point. So I dig deep for courage and boldly place one knee on either side of his hips, straddling his legs so I can settle intimately onto his lap. His arousal presses against the peak of my thighs, and it unleashes a nervous excitement that makes my core quiver.
He’s been so careful not to touch me that it’s been excruciatingly impossible to tell if he has feelings for me at all. But now I know without a doubt. He wasn’t just saying it. Gleb wants me. Which makes his words that much more meaningful.
And because talking doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, I tilt my head, letting my hair fall over one shoulder as I lean in to kiss him. Fire ignites between us, and I let my instincts take over, my tongue darting out to taste his surprisingly soft lips. Gleb’s strong arms enfold me once more, pulling me close.
He smells of hickory, pine, and ash—like a campfire—mingled with a hint of leather and gunpowder, forming an intensely masculine and strangely alluring fragrance. Dangerous would be the best way to describe the scent that clings to him, and somehow, it makes me feel all the more safe.
His kisses grow more urgent, his tongue tangling with mine in a foreign and intoxicating way, encouraging my excitement and, at the same time, exploring me like his penetrating gaze. A brazen hunger possesses me, and before I’m fully aware of what I’m doing, my fingers have traveled down to the nape of his neck, then his back so I can gather the fabric of his shirt and guide it up toward his shoulders.
Wordlessly, he shrugs out of it, letting me undress him. I gasp at the sight of his chiseled pecs and abs. They’re so well defined they could be painted on. He’s the perfect balance between lean and muscular—clearly fit but not in the hulking, brawny, gym rat kind of way. He’s built like a fighter. A tattoo in Cyrillic runs down the length of his left side, a single line that leaves me burning to know what it means.
And something I can only describe as an intricate family crest lies over his heart like an emblem. I trace my finger over the curving design, petting the wolf-like beast that bares its fangs at the center.
Gleb’s hand covers mine, his fingers gently wrapping around my knuckles, and he draws my hand away. He guides my palm to his cheek, and my eyes follow instinctively.
“Perhaps we can leave the past behind us tonight,” he suggests, his Russian accent growing thicker in the moment.
And though I’m dying to know what that means—and what his tattoo has to do with his past—I nod.
Tangling his fingers in my hair, he brings me down to kiss him. I lean into him, savoring the moment, willing the barriers between us to fall away and grant me the relief I so desperately crave.
One arm wrapped around my waist, the other cupping the back of my head, Gleb holds me close. But it feels like too many barriers separate us. I reach for the hem of the oversized sweater I found in the closet of my room. I pull it up until Gleb has to release me so I can remove it entirely.
A rumbling growl issues from deep in his throat as Gleb’s eyes find my bare breasts—I decided no bra would be better than the dirty, tattered one I arrived in. My nipples are hard from the cool air combined with his predatory gaze, and I breathe heavily as I suddenly don’t know what to do next.
I want him to touch me, but I’m also terrified I won’t like it if he does.
His warm, powerful hands find my waist, sliding steadily up my back as his fingers splay. And the heat that seeps into my skin feels so good my hips roll, arching my back. My eyelids flutter closed, and a moment later, something soft and warm closes around my nipple.
I gasp, the air rushing from my lungs at the pure ecstasy that lances through my body, and my shuddering breaths grow heavy as my hips rock more fervently against the iron length of his erection. I can tell he’s large, though I’ve never seen it. But compared to the cocks I’ve had shoved in my face, his might be the biggest.
A fresh wave of anxiety washes through me as I think about what it would be like to take him down my throat. Sex won’t be like that, will it? I mean, it can’t be as bad as choking on a man because he refuses to pull out before he comes in my mouth. But I do know that smaller is better, in that regard. At least then, I can still breathe.
Leave the past behind you, Mel, I instruct, taking Gleb’s words as my mantra because I really want to enjoy this. To feel what it’s like when this is my choice. And god, it feels good to have his lips wrapped around the throbbing tip of my nipple, his tongue flicking it lightly as he sucks until I’m ready to cry out in pleasure.
“Oh god,” I whimper as he switches sides, and the pulsing tension between my thighs reaches an almost agonizing intensity.
His fingers press more adamantly against my back, and when his teeth lightly close on the tender point of my flesh, intense pleasure explodes through my body. A tidal wave of euphoria ripples through me. Gasping with the overwhelming sensation, I can’t seem to control my hips as they grind forward against his hard cock. My clit pulses in a new, blissful form of release, and suddenly my panties are soaking wet.
I pant, my hands coming to rest on Gleb’s strong shoulders as I realize that must be what an orgasm feels like. “Holy shit,” I breathe. And as liquid contentment trickles through my veins, I want to experience that level of pleasure again.
Gleb releases my hard nub with a soft pop, his lips traveling slowly up my chest to my neck. As he brushes the tender flesh with his tongue, he sends a shiver of arousal up my spine. His soft skin grazing against mine is driving me crazy.
