Page 83 of Sinful Blaze

And then he’s behind me. Smoothing his hands along my arms and breathing me in.

“I know I said it before,” he rumbles in his chest, “but my scent smells incredible on you. You smell incredible, moya plamya. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His mouth is so close to my neck. I can feel his breath fanning across my skin.

I can’t have wine.

But I can have him, can’t I?

I turn my face to his and decide in that last breath to just go for it. Take what I want. See what happens. The worst he can do is throw me out, right?

I mean, no, the worst that he can do is murder me, dismember my body into a million little pieces, and dissolve each of them in a vat of acid, but…

I can’t remember what my point was, because right then, our lips meet. If he did it or I did, I can’t be sure. But we come together, and there’s no denying what this is.

He’s kissing me.

He’s kissing me.

I want to moan. Fuck it; I do moan. He tastes even better than I remember and feels like everything I’ve been aching for. When his moan echoes mine, I swear I’m about to melt into a puddle on this chair.

Pasha reaches down and lifts me out of my seat. We’re so hungry for each other. My fingers thread through his hair and his hands wander over my body until they rest on my waist. All the while, we’re devouring each other’s lips and tongues like nothing else will satisfy.

He hoists me onto the table and nestles himself between my spread legs. This feels familiar… I can’t help but giggle between my moans at the thought.

“Something funny, moya plamya?” Pasha growls over the pulse in my throat.

“N-no! No.” I’m half-giggling, half-breathless, but when he catches the zipper of my sweater between his teeth, all the giggles vanish. What will he think when he realizes I’m not wearing anything underneath? Well, nothing except a bra. My boobs are growing too big to just freebird anymore.

Heat flares in his eyes when his nose rubs along the bare skin of my cleavage. He doesn’t stop tugging until the sweater is completely open and peeling away on either side.

“Naughty girl,” he teases in a low growl. Even in the heat of this moment, his smile still flickers like embers.

I lean up on my elbows toward him—but before I have the chance, he leans forward to capture my lips with his once more.

I hear myself let out a small whimper of need and it fuels his desire, leading his hungry mouth back down the other side of my neck to the ever-deepening valley of my cleavage.

I reach down to the clasp holding my bra together and unhook it. I’ve been loving front closures lately because of how easy they are to put on; I’m now loving them for how easy they are to take off.

Pasha straightens up.

I fully expect him to utterly devour them, but he surprises me. His tongue glides over the swell of one, followed by a warm, suckling kiss. Again, and again, he does the same thing all around my left breast until my nipple is practically begging for his attention.

Finally—finally—his warm lips wrap around the puckered bud and I gasp, I arch, I feel my toes start to curl when he flicks it with his wicked tongue. Pasha slides his hands under me to rub my lower back and hold me even closer to him. I can’t stop myself from grinding against him.

“Very naughty girl.” He nips the underside of that breast before kissing a trail to my right one, where he does it all over again.

“Pasha,” I hear myself whine. “Pasha, please…”

Those strong hands smooth down my back until they hook into the waistband of my sweatpants and panties. He doesn’t let go of my nipple with his mouth as he slides both items down my thighs and drops them in a pile at our feet.

Part of me feels so self-conscious about the changes in my body. My stomach is fuller, my breasts are larger—hell, I think my thighs have grown a bit thicker, too. I’m not the woman he first undressed in that storage closet.

But just when I’m ready to plaster a self-conscious hand in front of my belly, Pasha seizes my wrist in a grasp firm enough to shock a surprised little yelp out of me.

“If you think for even one second I’m letting you hide any part of yourself from me, you’re fucking delusional,” he snarls. “I want to see all of you. Every last, beautiful inch.”

He descends with kisses, down the swell of my breasts and the swell of my belly and the swell of my throbbing labia.

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