Page 173 of Porcelain Lies

My fingers trace the contours of my belly, my touch gentle. “What am I getting myself into?” I whisper.

The silence of the room is my only answer.

I’ve tried to tell myself that my feelings for him are simply a product of my circumstances — a captive falling for her captor.

“Like Stockholm Syndrome?”Boyana intrudes my thoughts. I haven’t turned to my imaginary sister for the entire day. I didn’t need to.

Aleksei has unsettled me since the first time we met. But today, I saw a very different side of him. The protective father, the caring brother, the man willing to let his guard down.

He’s an enigma, a puzzle I can’t help but want to unravel. And there’s a part of me that wants to believe he’s genuine. That, despite his dark past and complex present, there’s a chance for something real.

My eyes drift to the dark shape of the door, imagining him appearing in the doorway.

“Stupid girl. You’re like a lovesick teenager.”

“You’re right, Boyana,” I say under my breath, turning away from the window.

I slip off my robe, revealing the lace nightgown beneath. My fingers toy with the delicate straps, considering for a moment before reaching for the light switch.

The room is plunged into darkness, aside from the faint glow from the window. I crawl beneath the sheets, the cool fabric brushing against my skin.

I’m about to close my eyes when I hear it — the soft click of the door.

My heart skips a beat.

The sound of approaching footsteps reaches my ears, and then he’s there, a dark silhouette in the moonlight.

“Aleksei?” I say softly, propping myself up on my elbows.

He doesn’t respond, but I can sense his gaze on me, a silent, intense scrutiny. My pulse quickens, my body instinctively responding to his overwhelming presence.

He takes a step closer, the bed dipping slightly as he sits on the edge. “I wanted to thank you for today.”

I smile. The shadows dancing across his face accentuate the angles of his jaw. “You already did. And it was my pleasure.”

He nods, his hand reaching out to brush a curl of hair behind my ear. “You brought happiness into this house.”

The tenderness in his touch leaves me tingling. “It’s your family that brought me joy.”

There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. He leans forward, his breath warm against my skin. “Stella…”

“Yes?” My voice comes out as a whisper.

His fingers tangle in my hair, guiding my head back to expose the line of my throat.“Blyad.”His voice is almost a groan. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His sudden admission sends a rush of desire through me. “I… I feel the same.”

With gentle pressure, he urges me back down onto the pillow, his body covering mine. I can feel the hard planes of his chest against mine, the warmth of his skin.

His mouth finds mine, his lips claiming me with a fierce hunger. There’s a desperate edge to his kiss, as if he’s tasting me for the first time. My hands reach up, my fingers curling around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He settles his weight over me, his mouth trailing down my neck. I tilt my head back, offering him full access. His tongue traces the sensitive skin, eliciting a soft moan.

His touch is possessive, branding me as his. I can feel his desire, a potent mix of need and longing. It mirrors my own, the connection between us burning away any remaining doubts.

His lips return to mine, his kiss demanding and passionate. Our tongues dance. I can taste the warmth of the vodka he drank earlier, the hint of spice from our meal.

I run my hands over the smooth lines of his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his shirt. He groans softly, his hips pressing against mine. His cock is hard and thick against my mound.

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