The smile was off her face already, her fingers digging into my shoulders to steady herself. Dazed, she moved her hip against my hand, hissing when I pushed two fingers into her wet pussy. Her walls clamped around my hand, her head lolled backward, and she caught her lip between her teeth.
“How many minutes before we set the house on fire?”
“Ten,” she mumbled and dove in for a kiss.
It was desperate, needy, and everything we both needed to communicate how much we knew we needed each other without having to admit it in words. She thrust her tongue into my mouth, eagerly tasting, fiercely battling. Her hands were everywhere: my head, my cheeks, my neck, and my shoulders.
I cupped the back of her head, matching her energy as I sucked on her lips, one after the other.
She tasted like citrus, too.
Moving her hips, she tried to create friction, but I pulled out and hastily tugged down my sweatpants, allowing my cock to spring free. What I didn’t expect was that she would curl her fingers around me and impatiently position me at her entrance.
“Seven minutes, Timur.”
I slid my arm around her waist and, at the same time, covered her mouth with mine; before bringing her down on my cock, I swallowed her moans, grunting at the sting of her fingers digging into my chest, while I guided her to ride me.
Her bump brushed my torso, and I gripped her thighs, plunging deeper into the warmth of her sex. Pleasure and satisfaction settled on her face when she rocked faster against me. I kissed her neck, dipped my head to suck her braless breasts through her clothes, and relished in the sound of hearing her mumble incoherent nonsense.
She was so fucking tight, squeezing me in and out. All I wanted was to feel the depths of her, to fuck her harder and faster—as insanely as I knew how. She cupped my neck, breathing fast against my lips. Her forehead dropped to mine, and her hair fell forward, trapping us in a world where only us existed and nothing else.
“Two more minutes,” she whispered, running her fingers up and down my chest. “I’m close, baby.”
My ears perked at the foreign name, but I couldn’t concentrate on it for long as I tried to kiss her. But it was fucking sloppy. She sighed into my mouth, played with my ears, and mumbled another incoherent thing I couldn’t register.
I could feel her closing in on me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hold on any longer. She raised her hips and slid back down, allowing me to hit her just where she needed, just whereIneeded liberation, and she shattered above me, coming undone in my arm. It wasn’t long before I followed after, coming inside her with a deep grunt.
Laughing, she snuggled her head on my heaving chest, and I knew she was trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.
I kissed her forehead. “What’s funny?”
Shaking her head, she looked up. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how it happened or where that came from. I called you baby.”
Yes, she had. And while it was strange, I welcomed the new development with open arms and didn’t want any change.
“You can call me whatever you want,Pchelka.I’m yours.”
Chapter 23 – Serena
In love.
Love.
A word that once felt so distant, like something other people spoke about but I never fully understood.
My father loved me, I got to learn, in his own way. His version of love was distant, like the feeling of staring at the stars from a million miles away. A hug was rare, and at some point, a kind word was even rarer. Yet, I knew, deep down, that he cared. In his own way. It was just buried beneath the weight of his shortcomings with my mother.
My mother…she was tougher but distant. If she loved at all, then it was love from the background, silently, without touch or reassurance. Maybe it was love, I suppose, but not the kind that filled you.
Jayden, though. With him, I knew love—real, tangible, and full. He gave it without question, without hesitation. As a kid, he’d sneak into my room during storms, wrapping his small arms around me to keep the fear at bay. He stood by me, always, even when I didn’t agree with his choices. And I loved him just as fiercely. With Jayden, love was simple—pure, like an unspoken pact that no matter what happened, we had each other.
But now…Timur.
What I feel for him is nothing like the love I have ever known before. It is not partial, or silent, or simple. Just…consuming.
This gift he gave me, the diamond bracelet. The cool metal against my skin is a stark contrast to the warmth that spreads through my chest every time I think of him.
He isn’t gentle. Far from it.