chapter 24

“Oh gosh,” I mutter incoherently.

Dmitri smiles. It’s the first time he’s ever smiled at me that way. Warmth touches every inch of his face, making his eyes look brighter and bluer, his cheekbones softer.

Unable to stop myself, I reach up and touch his lips with my thumb.

His smile drops, and I snatch my hand away as though burned.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Uh, I just—” I hesitate. “I haven’t seen you smile at me since we got married. I mean, there was the one time when Yelena was there, but it was because of her...”

I don’t finish, and silence follows.

We stare at each other, and it feels like an eternity. Something shifts between us, the air now charged with an undercurrent I can’t define but feel all the way down to my bones.

What’s going on?

I open my mouth to ask what’s changed, what this charged energy means, but the words die on my lips.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Dmitri surprises me by speaking first, his voice low.

My heart stutters in my chest. I don’t know what’s brought about the sudden change in the way he sees me and treats me, but I’m not about to question it.

One large hand comes up to cradle my cheek as his head dips low.

Then his lips are on mine, soft yet decisive. I gasp quietly at the unfamiliar yet overwhelming sensation. This is no peck or cursory kiss—it feels like an earthquake, shaking me to my core.

One kiss turns to two, three, forgetting to count as I lose myself. All the months of hostility between us seem to melt away as I circle my arms around his neck.

His thumb strokes my cheek as our lips move together, and I realize with startling clarity that Ilikethis. More than I thought I ever would.

Reluctantly, Dmitri ends the kiss but stays close, our foreheads touching as we both catch our breath.

I keep my eyes closed, afraid of what I might see in his when I open them. I don’t want this moment to end.

“Anastasia,” he whispers my full name. “I want more. If you want me to stop, you need to say it.”

This is uncharted territory.

I should take a step back and evaluate.

“Don’t stop.” My lips move, birthing the words.

He nods and leans in again, kissing me deeper this time. There’s no question of patience or subtlety. We both know this is more than a kiss—we know where it will end. I let my towel fall when his hand touches the part where I tucked it in, and he ends the kiss to stare at me, sucking in a deep breath.

I feel exposed under his stare, but he looks at me like I’m something unbelievable. It erases my vulnerability. His gaze is pure adoration, and his hands, when they cup my breasts, do so gently.

“Dmitri,” I murmur his name, leaning in as his fingers tease my nipples to hardened peaks, awash with need and desire.

Dmitri claims my lips again as his muscular arms encircle my body, closing the space between us. He nudges my legs apart, stepping in with a muscled thigh.

I pant as his tongue slides into my mouth, and his hand cups my ass, kneading hard. Every part of me screams his name, wanting to be touched and set aflame by his hands.

“Bed,” he whispers, lifting me off my feet.

I throw my arms around him with a breezy laugh, which dies when he lays me down, and I notice his gaze. Dark and intense, Dmitri’s eyes send a shot of pleasure through me, while a steady pulse kicks between my legs.

He braces his weight on his arms as he hovers above me and one hand caresses my cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” Dmitri utters as his thumb strokes the spot behind my ear. “Sobeautiful.”

My cheeks turn rosy, and the flush spreads across my face. I’ve been complimented a lot before I met Dmitri, but I’ve neverbeen with someone who called mebeautifulwhile looking at me like he wanted to devour me.

With a promise that I’ll enjoy every moment of it.

His lips touch my forehead. “Gorgeous. When I saw you walk into the garden that night, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

Does he mean it?I wonder, searching for the truth in his eyes.

My thoughts melt away when his lips touch my chin—kisses peppered down my neck and my collarbone. His hands run over my arms, my stomach, and between my legs.

I gasp when his thumb brushes over my clit, tilting my pelvis and riding his hand. His finger slips inside me, and he touches my g-spot, rubbing against it until I’m panting loudly, sinking my fingers into his hair.

My walls clench around his finger, greedy for more and craving release. Dmitri pushes me until I’m close—moaning and panting and begging him with heavy sighs, then removes his finger.

I open my mouth to protest, and he swallows my words with another kiss. My impatient hands reach for his shirt, getting it off quickly while the sound of his zipper echoes in the background.

Then he stops abruptly, and I open my eyes to see him staring down at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” My voice comes out squeaky. I clear my throat and try again. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs and rubs his forehead. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Just be careful.”

He nods, smirking. “Where were we?”

I’m once again swept away by his kisses, and I suck in a deep breath when he pushes into me inch by inch until my body stretches to accommodate him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I can’t trust myself to speak, so I nod, wrapping my arms around his neck as his thrusts increase—harder, faster, filling every inch of me. My hips rock to match his tempo, and I lose myself in the waves that pull me under repeatedly, taking over my mind, body, and everything else.

He hikes my legs around his waist, and I lock them tight.

“Kotyonok,” Dmitri whispers in my ear. “You feel so wet. So fucking wet and tight.”

My entire body trembles when he changes position, pushing my legs close to my chest.

“Yes.Yes.” My hands fall on the bed, and I cling to the sheets, fisting them tight.

My climax hits me without warning and I go taut for a second before I explode, falling apart with shudders. He doesn’t stop, though, and a tightness rolls through me as I come again.

I hear Dmitri’s low groan, and I feel him pull out as I close my eyes, basking in the euphoria of release.

Minutes later, after returning from the bathroom and climbing back into bed, I lay next to him with my limbs feeling like limp noodles.

He pulls me to him, but neither of us utters a word.

Where do we go from here?

It’s obvious that this is a one-time thing. We don’t even like each other. It’s easy for only sexual chemistry to exist between two people when they can go their separate ways after. But what happens when they’re married?