Page 19 of Twilight Sins

But I’m too busy being drawn in that I don’t have the energy to resist.

I take another drink of vodka. My cheeks are already warm. My entire body is buzzing. Though I don’t think that has anything to do with the alcohol.

“So, is there anything else that’s better in Russia than America?”

“I used to think the women were.” Yakov plucks my glass out of my hands and places it on the shelf behind my head. Before I can wonder why, he presses me back against the shelf and runs his hands through my hair. “After tonight… I’m not so sure.”

Just like in the car, I feel the press of our lips in every part of my body. Unlike in the car, I don’t have to wonder what Yakov wants. When I reach up to wrap my hands around his neck, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

He tastes like vodka and I can’t get enough. I strain forward to kiss him harder. To deepen each kiss. To taste him. But he pulls away. He teases me with his lips and his tongue, never quite giving me what I want.

When his lips shift to my jaw and trail down my neck, I groan. I’m not sure if it’s in frustration or because his lips anywhere on my body feels too good to be true.

“You can’t rush me,” Yakov warns as he kisses the slope of my collarbone. “We have all night and I have remarkable self-control.”

I arch against him, desperate to close the gap between us. “Who says I’m staying all night?”

Ha. It’s hilarious. Really. The suggestion that I might walk away from this. From him. Yakov could toss me to the porch right now and I’d probably mewl around outside like a street cat who has a sudden taste for Fancy Feast. I need to explore every facet of this. Of him.

He pulls back and looks at me. In one glance, I know he can see every dirty, desperate thought in my head.

He smiles and releases my hands. “Leave if you want.”

“Okay. Maybe I?—”

The words die in my throat, exactly where Yakov kisses my neck. His tongue traces a line down to my sternum and then I feel the soft, cool air of his exhale.

Goosebumps explode across my skin. “You’re free to go,” Yakov murmurs, his lips brushing across the low neckline of my dress. I can’t wear a bra with this outfit, so he knows exactly where to scrape his teeth. Right over the pebbled skin of my nipple. I gasp and curl my fingers through his dark hair.

Heat swirls low in my belly and he hasn’t even ventured under my clothes. He hooks one hand behind my knee and then slides his finger up the inside of my thigh. Higher and higher.

My entire body tightens with anticipation.

He’s so close to where I want him. So painfully close.

“Well, solnyshka, if you’re going to leave, you better go now.” Yakov looks up at me under dark brows. “While I still have control of myself.”

“I thought you had remarkable self-control?” I pant.

“I do.” His mouth finds my throat. His lips press to where my pulse is pounding. “It’s remarkable I haven’t fucked you already. It’s remarkable I didn’t do it in the car. It’s remarkable I didn’t clear the table at the restaurant and devour you there.”

Forget tonight. I might stay here forever.

I grab his neck and bring his lips to mine. We crash together in a wave of teeth and lips and heavy breathing.

Slowly, we shift away from the shelves towards the sofa. As soon as I feel the arm of the couch against the back of my thighs, I fall back and reach for him.

Yakov stands over me. His eyes are pitch black. His top lip is pulled back in a snarl. He looks feral. I should be afraid, but I’m not.

“We can’t do this here,” he growls.

I’m too turned on to be insecure. I feel like I’ll die if he doesn’t touch me. “Aren’t we alone? Are you worried someone will see?”

He strokes a rough hand from my neck to my waist. “I don’t give a shit if someone sees. Let them watch.”

“Then why can’t we?—”

“If I’m going to fuck you, we’re not going to do it like horny teenagers on the couch.” Yakov picks me up in one fluid motion and wraps my legs around his waist. His hands bite possessively into my ass. “I’m going to fuck you in a bed, Luna. Where I have space to do it right.”

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