Page 127 of Breaking Away

My chest makes full contact, the streak of fur toppling me over. He’s licking my face and wagging his tail. I whisper, “Good boy. Such a good boy. I missed you so much. I can’t believe you are here. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

I look up.

Dmitri is awake. His voice is rough with sleep, but still hits me like an anvil. He’s standing and staring at me.

I slowly rise and go closer to him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His eyes wander all over me, from those same biker shorts to my oversized t-shirt. “You’re—here. I’m not dreaming.”

He says the last part like it’s a question.

I go to pinch him with the intention of being funny (why?), but find myself stroking his arm, leaning forward, breathing him in. “I’m here.”

He’s wearing a cotton shirt that lifts at the stomach when he moves forward abruptly and unexpectedly, his hands grabbing my face. I go on my toes. Our mouths collide, pressing against each other. There’s a bruising hunger that won’t settle down. His mouth is so insistent and thorough.

By contrast, his fingers cradle as if I might break or go away if he does anything wrong.

When I meet his tongue with mine, he groans and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in tight.

He moves us together until my back finds something solid to press on. He’s so hungry with his mouth, but his palms slam,going flat above my head on the wall as if they need reminders. As if they’ll just rip my clothes right off otherwise.

Me, I’m trying to climb him with my legs, grinding against Dmitri until I reach it. The hard length of him straining the front of his pants. It takes up so much room, branding my belly. I can’t help but whimper.

Dmitri pulls apart and buries his head into my neck.

“Princess. Fuck. I’m sorry.” His mouth traces across my jawline. “Tell me to stop.”

“You don’t want me?” I whimper.

He lifts his head. Blown out pupils. “All I ever want is you.”

Desperately, I wrap my hand around the base of his neck. “Don’t you think I want this?”

He sucks on a spot under my ear. “Don’t regret this. I—need you in my life.”

I left for the interview because I thought I had to. Is he afraid I’ll take more of myself away?

I want to tell him thathe’sstolen so much. Why is Seattle cold and gray and empty because it’s not a city he lives in? Why did these last two days feel long in the worst way? Why did I miss absolutely everything about Dmitri, even the stubborn press of his golden eyes?

I couldn’t watch reality tv at night. I always use it to wind down, but not without him now. The dinners I had were absolute snorefests. I kept missing my mouth, the spoon hitting my cheek as my thoughts wandered back to us in this kitchen, prodding each other. Laughing. Eye-rolling.

He’s in me.

But I want himinme.

When his erection finds a home in the juncture between my legs, I moan. “Please. More…”

He pulls his mouth away, his gaze wistfully half-lidded. “More?”

“More.”

I rub against him.

His mouth finds my ear. Out spills the calmest and filthiest dirty talk. “Does she need to be filled? To be stretched out and stuffed? Is that what your pretty pussy needs? To be fucked?”

All I can do is nod.

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