Page 156 of Porcelain Lies

Her eyes meet mine, and for the first time in a long while, I feel seen — not as thePakhan, not as Bobik’s guarded father, but simply as a man. The realization is both terrifying and liberating.

I can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman like this — with my lips and my soul. There’s a fierceness in me that’s unleashed, an urgency that’s unfamiliar. And with every gasp from Stella’s lips, with every stroke of her hands, I feel a piece of control slipping away.

I set her down on the couch, peeling her shirt over her head. And then my hands are on the bare skin of her waist, her ribs… I cup the soft swell of her tits, hefting their weight in my palms. Her scent surrounds me, that subtle vanilla perfume that now seems to be a constant reminder of her presence.

“Aleksei,” she moans as my thumbs flick over her hardening nipples. I reach behind her to release the catch of her bra. Her breasts spill free, and even though I don’t know her body very well, I am certain that they’re fuller. More lush. Full with the promise of the child she’s carrying.

I tug at her underwear, and she shifts her hips to help me slide it off. She’s already wet, and I swear I can smell her desire, the sweet musk of her arousal. My cock twitches, the ache to be inside her overwhelming. I keep my eyes on her as I straighten and strip off, until I’m as naked as she is. She licks her lips, her eyes hot as they run over me.

“Now,” she says hoarsely. “I want you now, Aleksei.”

I lift her thighs, wrapping her legs around my waist again. I fit the head of my cock to her entrance, teasing her as she rocks against me. She whimpers, her hips moving in a silent plea.

I groan low in my throat. “You’re so fucking wet,” I grit out, running my thumb over her swollen clit.

Her eyes are half-lidded, a heavy mix of lust and uncertainty. “Please,” she breathes. “Please… now…”

It’s all the encouragement I need. I push into her, slowly, steadily, my hands gripping her thighs as she takes me in. Her heat surrounds me, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.

I pull out almost entirely, then push back in, a slow and measured pace that has her nails digging into my biceps. Her back arches, her lips parting in a silent scream.

“Tak khoroso,” I mutter, my forehead against hers. “So tight and wet.” I thrust again, a growl escaping my lips as I lose myself in the feel of her. “Fucking perfect.”

Her hands move to my ass, urging me on. I give her what she wants — harder, faster, deeper — until her moans fill the room. Her walls clench around me, rippling waves of pleasure that have me gritting my teeth to hold back my release. I can’t let go yet — not until I feel her shatter.

I reach between our bodies, my fingers finding her clit again. Her head falls back, her breath coming in quick pants as I stroke her. My hips keep moving, my cock slipping in and out, filling her as I bring her closer.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I mutter, bending my head to capture a nipple between my lips. “I could eat you up.”

She makes a broken sound, her hips bucking as her orgasm builds. “Touch me, Aleksei,” she pleads. “Please.”

I give her what she wants, circling her clit with my thumb as my hips snap against her. And then she’s coming apart around me, her walls pulsing as she cries out my name. I losemyself in the feel of her release, my own orgasm washing over me, and I thrust into her once, twice more, until I spill myself into her.

We’re both breathless, sweaty, spent. I collapse on the couch, still inside her, my arms around her as we catch our breath. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, her hands running lazy patterns on my back. For a long moment, we stay like this, our bodies connected, our hearts slowing.

“That was…” She trails off, her eyes closed.

“Incredible,” I finish for her, burying my face in her neck. I don’t want to think about the implications of this — what it means for me, for her, for the baby growing inside her. All I want is to savor this moment, to hold onto it and pretend that everything is simple. That I’m just a man, and she’s just a woman, and we’re free to explore this connection without consequences.

But the reality is never that simple. And as I pull away from her, I know I should step back into the world of the Bratva, into a world of secrets and lies and complexities.

“I should go,” I say, my voice rough. “It’s late.”

She gnaws on her bottom lip, her eyes huge and deep. “Don’t… Not yet.”

For a moment, I just look at her, trying to memorize the curve of her lips, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the flush on her skin. This is a woman I could lose myself in, and I know, in that moment, that I’m already halfway gone.

But I can’t let myself fall. Not entirely. Not yet.

Just a few more minutes.

What harm could it do?

I settle back against her, feeling her belly against mine. I’m keenly aware of the baby growing inside her, of the possibility of a future that’s too daunting to consider. And as I stare into her emerald eyes, I know that nothing will ever be the same. The lines I’ve carefully drawn are blurred, and there’s no going back to the person I was before.

I’m falling, and it terrifies me.

Chapter Forty-Six

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