“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “You scared the living shit out of me.”
I felt like an asshole. Not Angela, of all people. I couldn’t hurt her. She was my Malen kiy.
“Are you okay?” she asked, staring at me wide-eyed.
Why did she care how I felt after what I’d nearly done to her?
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice was hoarse. I struggled to keep my shit together. Fucking pathetic, if you ask me. I’d nearly hurt Angela. The one good thing that had happened to me.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
I nodded and swallowed hard.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t tell her about my past or anything that had happened in it. I hated these nightmares and how they came back to haunt me. How reality and my dreams melted together until I couldn’t tell one from the other. In my dreams, I did everything I’d vowed I wouldn’t do. In my dreams, I was the devil himself, with no moral compass, no heart.
And that wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I wanted to be.
“It’s going to be okay,” Angela consoled, reaching out a hand, then dropping it.
“Look at what I did to you,” I growled, riddled with guilt.
I felt like throwing up. What the fuck was this weakness? I’d never felt like this before. But I’d nearly lost myself working for Maksim. I didn’t want to be a merciless son of a bitch anymore.
With Angela there, I was reminded of the scum I had been. And I was so aware that I hadn’t changed, that I still wasn’t good enough for her, no matter what I had decided to become.
I will never be good enough for her.
I scrubbed my face with my hands as the realization hit me.
She put her hand on my back, careful to touch me, as if she knew how fucking close to the edge I was. I flinched, but she rested her hand on my shoulder blade and didn’t move it, as if she were touching an injured animal who might bite. Her hand was well below where the stitches had been put in, and her presence, her hand on my back, was soothing.
“Lie down,” she suggested.
I didn’t want to do what she told me. I didn’t want her to coddle me. But I sagged back to the mattress, suddenly exhausted. I lay on my side, my back to her. I didn’t want her to look at me. I didn’t want her to see the face of a monster.
Slowly, Angela caressed my back, running her hand in circles. It was soothing, comforting. Almost hypnotizing, and I felt the claws of the dream let go. Never had I felt calm so soon after a nightmare. Sometimes, I wouldn’t sleep for two days, the taste of blood metallic on my tongue, the sound of screaming in my ears whenever I closed my eyes.
But Angela was there to soothe me. I took a deep breath and let it out in a shudder. Angela kept running her hand over my back, and I suddenly craved her touch. More than what she was giving me. I wanted her. All of her.
I rolled over, and just like that we were face to face. My body pressed against hers. I felt her tits against my chest, heaving as her breathing changed. Her skin was scalding hot against mine, burning even through her shirt. I wanted that shirt off and gone. I wanted her naked so I could fuck her.
“Tell me to stop,” I said gruffly.
“What?” she was breathless.
“If you tell me to stop, I will roll back over and go to sleep. But if you don’t…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. My body ached for her; my cock was rock hard in my boxer shorts. I ground myself against her without meaning to. I just couldn’t help it.
Angela moaned, and fuck if I wasn’t going to topple over the edge just from that. I could come from the sound of her voice.
But I needed her to want it, or I would bite back this lust forever.
The atmosphere in the room was so thick, it was hard to breathe. Heat stretched thin between us, drawing us closer.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” Angela whispered.
Fuck.
Me.
That was it.
Angela
Oh, God, the way he looked at me would have made my panties melt if I were wearing any. I only wore the pajamas Viktor had bought me on our trip to Snowmass.
He’d had a terrible nightmare. I’d never heard a man scream with so much emotion. He’d scared the crap out of me when he’d grabbed, though he hadn’t hurt me. As powerful as Viktor was, I didn’t think he could ever hurt me. There was just something about the way he looked at me, the way he treated me…
I was still trembling, but the fright he’d given me gave way to lust as heat washed through my body, pooling between my legs. My body burned for his touch, and I arched my back, pushing my breasts against him. His large hands roamed my hips. When he touched me, I felt small and delicate.
“Tell me to stop,” Viktor murmured again. His voice was thick with need.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” I whispered. The idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. I was so caught up in the power and the lust that surrounded us, dragging me under, I hadn’t thought about anything other than the feel of his body pressed against mine, the thick line of his cock pushing against my thigh.
I didn’t want him to stop. I needed his hands on my skin. I ached for him in a way I’d never ached for anyone before. I’d been with men, but not like this. I’d never been fucked. I was saving myself. For what? I hadn’t known then, but I knew now. Viktor was the man I had been waiting for. He was the one I wanted to give myself to.
Viktor groaned and rolled his hips, pushing himself against me. He inched closer and brushed his lips against mine, a silent question. When I didn’t pull away, he kissed me. Softly at first, slowly, testing, tasting. His tongue slid over my bottom lip and into my mouth, and I moaned as he probed my mouth with his tongue. His hand slid into my hair and he closed it in a fist, tugging lightly, tipping my head up. My neck was exposed, and he kissed me like he meant it. The way he held me, in control, demanding but not hurting, made me squirm. I trembled with need. I was so wet. My body begged for release. I wanted him to touch me, to push his fingers into my slit, to slide them around in my wetness, to plunge them into me.
I’d never thought such dirty things in my life. But Viktor awoke another side of me, a side I hadn’t even known existed. With him, I became a sexual creature made of need.
I ran my hand over his hip, daring to touch him. He responded by tilting his hip toward me, encouraging. I moved around, sliding my hand over his delicious body, until I squeezed his ass. Tight. Round. Perfect. I wanted to take a bite out of it. Like an apple. I dug my nails into his perfect ass through his boxers and Viktor groaned into my mouth.
“You’re driving me crazy, Malen kiy,” he murmured. He pressed his lips to my neck. “You have no idea how much I want you. To feel you under me. I want to pin you down and taste every inch of you.”
I gasped, wanting the same things as he said them.
“And when I’m done tasting, I want more. I want to fuck you. I want to bury my cock deep inside you, feel every inch of your body sliding over mine.”
I moaned, curling against him, squeezing his ass tighter. I wanted to touch his cock, but I was nervous. He was so confident and knew what he was doing. I was so inexperienced.
“Tell me, Malen kiy, has a man ever taken you to a place where you can lose yourself?”