Page 37 of Imperfect Desires

It undoes something in me.

“I just wanted to check on you,” I say quietly. “Make sure you’re okay.”

Alina tilts her head, curiosity in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Alina—” I begin.

But her hand lifts to touch my jaw.

Soft. Gentle.

I inhale sharply.

And then her lips find mine.

It’s like getting punched in the chest and kissed by lightning all at once. My heart stutters, then hammers. I should pull away. I should walk out.

But I don’t.

Years of pent-up frustration come rushing to the surface, and my hands grip her waist, my mouth crushes back onto hers. The taste of her sends heat racing through my blood, and my control finally evaporates.

Her robe slides off her shoulders, and my jacket hits the floor. We’re stumbling back, barely making it to her bed.

Her hands tug at my shirt, and I let her strip it off me like I belong to her. Like I’m hers.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I always have been.

My head is screaming that I shouldn’t be doing this. But my heart says I should. And it’s the most right and most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.

Later, when her body lies curled beside mine, bare and soft and warm under the sheets, I stare at the ceiling like a man watching his world end.

She shifts closer, her cheek resting on my chest. I can feel her smile against my skin. “We’re finally together,” she whispers.

Alina

The knock on my door is soft, almost hesitant. I called out, “Yes?” expecting Scarlett’s familiar face to peek in, maybe with a question about dinner or in a mood to chat. Instead, the door creaks open, and it’s Lev. My heart skips a beat, then hammers against my ribs like a prisoner trying to escape. Shock freezes me in place. Lev. Here. In my room?

How did he even know my room?

“Lev,” I breathe, my voice barely audible. I’m frozen, torn between the urge to run and the desperate need to close the distance between us. His presence here, in my room, is dangerous. Forbidden. But years of longing, of stolen glances and unspoken words surge to the surface. I forget where I amand who I’m supposed to be. I forget everything except the way his eyes darken as he looks at me.

Before I can think, I’m moving, closing the gap between us. My lips press against his, tentative at first, but then he responds, and it’s like a dam breaking. His kiss is hungry and desperate, like a man starving for something he’s been denied too long. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I feel the hard planes of his body and the heat radiating from him. It’s reckless, it’s wrong, but I can’t stop.

Lev’s hands move up my back, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid I’ll shatter. But I’m not fragile. I’m on fire, consumed by a need I’ve tried to ignore for years. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing closer, my breasts against his chest, my hips instinctively grinding against his. His groan vibrates against my lips, and I know he feels it too—this raw, unbridled desire that’s been simmering between us for far too long.

He breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he trails kisses along my jawline, down my neck. “Alina,” he murmurs, my name a rough whisper against my skin. “This shouldn’t—”

I cut him off with another kiss, silencing his doubts, silencing my own. I don’t want to think about the consequences, about my brother, about the danger of this moment. I only want this—him.

My robe slips off, and Lev’s hands glide down to the hem of my nightdress, tugging it up slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I shiver as the cool air hits my skin, but his touch is warm and reverent as he pushes the fabric up and over my head. I’m leftwith nothing on; I feel exposed but not ashamed. His hungry gaze rakes over me, and I feel attractive under his scrutiny.

He steps back, and I look at his bare, tattoo-covered chest. His torso is marked with scars—each one a testament to his strength and survival. I reach out, tracing the lines of his skin, my fingers trembling. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, and he chuckles, a sound that’s both bitter and fond.

“You’re the only one who’d say that,” he replies, but his eyes soften as he looks at me.

Before I can respond, he’s kissing me again, his hands moving to cup my right breast, and he groans into my mouth. His lips leave mine, capturing one of my nipples, sucking gently before teasing it with his tongue. I arch into him, my hands tangling in his short, dark hair, holding him close.

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