Page 88 of 10 Days to Surrender

Sasha’s mouth twitches. “Still time for that Denny’s, if you want.”

I laugh and he helps me up. Together, hand in hand, we walk back in.

Somehow, the nipple stimulation is less invasive than it seemed. We make it through the rest of class mostly without incident. Sasha has filled pages of his notebook, but now, between scribbles, he looks over at me and flashes a reassuring smile.

It’d be easy to blame all my nerves on the biological Everest that’s waiting for me to climb it in four short weeks. Delivering one baby, much less two, is no joke. And to be sure, that’s definitely part of it.

But it’s also deliveringhisbabies, inthisplace, underthesecircumstances. Thank God I have my mom and Jas here to hold my hands through it. And though I never thought I’d say it, thank God I have Sasha here, too.

After today, if my perineum needs massaging, he’ll know exactly what to do.

Signora Rossi thanks us all for coming and the other couples begin to shuffle out. I join the back of the pack, but Sasha says, “Wait here,” and goes to whisper with the teacher.

I frown when he passes a thick stack of euro bills to her. Rossi’s eyes widen, but she nods and hurries out after the rest of the students with a cryptic smile in my direction.

Sasha follows behind her and locks the door.

When he turns back to me, the predatory gleam in his eyes makes my breath catch. I back up until I bump into one of the birthing balls, steadying myself against it.

“More practicing?” I ask, aiming for sarcasm but my voice comes out breathy.

“I take my homework very seriously.” He stalks toward me with lethal grace. “Don’t you want to be prepared?”

My laugh is shaky. “I don’t think this was what Signora Rossi had in mind for the equipment.”

“No?” His hands find my hips, steadying me as I wobble on the ball. “I think we’re being good students.”

There’s something different about this. About us. The playfulness mixed with intensity, the way his hands cup my face… It terrifies me how right it feels.

“Sasha…” I whisper, not sure if I’m warning him or pleading.

His forehead presses against mine. “I know, Ariel. I know. But here’s the thing.” He draws in a tense, shuddering breath. “I came here for the babies. To learn how to keep them—and you—safe. We did that. But now, I need something in return.”

“What’s that?” I whisper.

“I needyou.Because if I don’t put you on your back and make an absolute mess of your pussy right now, I think I might fucking die.”

Sir!

I let out an insane, giddy laugh. “This is the problem,” I whisper as heat leaches up to my face.

“What is?”

“That I don’t know how to say no when you say things like that to me.”

My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the fear or the anticipation. Maybe both.

He pushes me back onto the ball, then raises my legs up against his chest, calves hooked over his shoulders. He presses a kiss to the inside of each ankle. Gentle, like a butterfly landing. Then, tucking two fingers inside the waistband of my leggings, he peels them down and tosses them aside without a care.

Sinking to his knees, he spreads my thighs wide and starts to nibble his way up from my knee. I go from nearly giggling with ticklishness to a breathyOhwhen his mouth passes over my center.

His eyes stay absolutely fixated on me as he pulls the seat of my panties aside and presses one teasing kiss to my clit. He never blinks. Never looks away.

I’m exposed, vulnerable, and I fucking love it. I love the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters in this world.

He leans down, his tongue finding my clit, and I gasp, my hands gripping his hair. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “You’re so wet, Ari. So fucking wet for me.”

I moan, my hips bucking against his mouth. He’s right. I’m so fucking wet. I’m so fucking ready.

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