Page 60 of Emerald Vices

“Were you really going to let me go?” I blurt out as my back hits the wall. “Before, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you were right: this life, this world… It isn’t for someone like you. I couldn’t help thinking that, if I had let Maria go earlier, she’d still be out there somewhere, alive.”

Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, but I bite them down, determined to see him clearly. “That’s why you kept pushing me away.”

“You’re better off without me.”

I stab my finger into his chest. “That’s not your choice to make.”

He nods grimly. “I realize that. In any case, I’m done trying to push you away. Actually, I’m not letting you go.”

I breathe, but my pulse never slows. “Tell me why.”

“Because as I sat there, Natalia, I remembered what I am: a selfish fucking bastard. And you’re mine,” he growls, dipping his hand into the front of his shirt and pulling out the gold pendant that used to belong to my mother.

“You’re still wearing it?”

“I haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me, lastochka.” His fingers slide along my jaw. “It’s a part of you. And so am I.”

A tear traces its way down my cheek. “I told you what I need.”

“All or nothing.”

“All or nothing,” I echo. “Can you give it to me?”

“I will.” His jaw clenches. His eyes blaze. “Or I’m going to die trying.”

He tips my chin up and our lips crash together. I’m lost in the taste of him, distantly aware that we’re moving, that the door is slamming closed and my clothes are falling away piece by piece.

By the time he spreads me out on the bed, I’m wearing nothing but my panties.

He works his way down my body with his hands and his lips until he peels the last scrap of fabric away. His breath fans across my bare skin, warming me at first and then leaving goosebumps behind.

I’m too aroused to worry about my stomach. How could any woman be self-conscious when a man like this looks at her like that?

His eyes burn, simmering with building heat. He pulls off his clothes—slowly, damn near teasing me—and settles in at my side, kissing my ears, my neck, my breasts, my stomach.

I wait for the tide to break. For the beast to rear its head and take me roughly, the way I’m used to.

But Andrey doesn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry. As his mouth explores lower—past my belly, the crevice of my hip—a moan rises in my throat. By the time Andrey settles between my thighs, I’m quivering. He tastes me with the same endless patience, licking and kissing until I’m battling dual desires—the urge to push him away against the desperation of drawing him closer.

The wave breaks, and it’s hard to know when one orgasm stops and another begins. It feels like it’s all variations on the same melody, rising and falling as his fingers and tongue surge and taunt me. I’m wrung dry before we’ve barely begun.

Andrey’s lips are glistening with my desire when he looks up at me again.

“Andrey…” I breathe. “I don’t think I can take more…”

“Give yourself to me, Natalia. Just surrender.”

He leans over me and the pendant hangs in the air between us. Never has jewelry been so sexy on a man. Wrapping my fist around the chain, I use it to pull him down towards me.

Giving in has never been so easy.

I spread my legs, hugging his hips with my thighs as he slides inside me. We rock together, and I was wrong. I can take more.

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