“I didn’t last time.”
“Things happen, and you and Demyan came for me. I have a bodyguard, you, Albert. It’s going to all be fine. And Demyan will come around eventually.”
“He might not. He’s a stubborn SOB.”
“Well, then, that’s his problem. His decision. All we can do is show solidarity and open arms for him. And Ilya, I’ve missedyou. I only ever missed one person before. Max was everything. Was. And maybe I should feel guilt for how I’m feeling. But I don’t. There’s no guilt now for wanting you, for missing you, for feeling so strongly for you. I missed you, Ilya Belov, and I needed to see you. So here I am.”
Damn. That took so much for her to say. More so, it means the fucking world to me.
There are some men who may take it as a slight, her bringing Max into it, but I don’t. Max was a good guy. He was taken before his time. He’s in her heart. And, it seems, so am I.
So. Am. I.
Fuck.
My Alina looks at me with a question so big that it pulls me in.
“You missed me, huh?”
“I don’t say that often. Just to you and Albert.”
“I’m not jealous of Albert,” I say, “so don’t try to start a war.”
“Me? Never. I want you both in my life, and yes, I missed you, Ilya.”
“How much?” I murmur as I play with a lock of her hair.
Alina closes the gap and kisses me in a long, breath-stealing kiss. Her tongue dances wildly with mine, and then she drops one hand from around my neck to my thigh.
She looks up at me.
“This much.” She wraps her fingers around the hard length of my cock. “This damn much.”
“Maybe I should have you show me how much you missed me.” I lift and turn her to set her down on my desk.
Books, a bottle, an empty glass go flying.
I shut the lid to my laptop and move it out of the way as I slide up her skirt to dance my fingers over her panties.
“But first, let me show you how much I’ve missedyou, Alina.”
“Yes, please.”
I kiss her, slipping my fingers into her panties to stroke against her flesh. I push into her hot wetness, the tightness something I’ve craved and missed, the velvet softness of her… I could come right now, and no one could ever blame me.
I massage and rub her clit, kissing her so deeply that she melts.
My cock twitches, and I break the kiss, move to her ear, and whisper, “Want to come?”
Chapter Thirteen
ALINA
Ilya’s touchmakes me sing and throb and ache for more. The slow thrusting of his fingers sets a rhythm that beats in my bones, setting off a tingling of pleasure that whispers and begs for more.
He pulls me forward so I have to grasp the edges of the table, and with his body, he spreads me open. He kisses me again, his tongue mimicking the deep thrust of his fingers in a way that makes me want to keen.
I want to clutch at him, wrap around him, but he won’t let me. He’s in control of the narrative, spinning me up, filling me so that the only thought in my head is Ilya. The only feeling in me is pleasure-tinged need.
