Page 24 of Porcelain Lies

I’m drowning in sensation, lost in the slick slide of skin on skin. Every thrust draws desperate sounds from my throat that I barely recognize as my own. My legs wrap around his waist,pulling him impossibly deeper as pressure builds low in my belly. His rhythm grows erratic, his breathing harsh against my neck.

“Come for me,” he commands roughly. The dominance in his voice combined with a particularly skillful movement of his hips sends me over the edge with a scream. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me as he follows me into ecstasy with a guttural groan.

We collapse together, sweaty and sated. As our breathing slowly returns to normal, I realize with startling clarity that nothing will ever be the same after tonight. This stranger has utterly ruined me for anyone else.

I collapse against his chest, every nerve ending tingling with aftershocks. My body feels weightless, boneless, floating in a haze of satisfaction. His heartbeat thunders against my ear, matching my own racing pulse.

For these precious moments, there’s no room in my mind for anything but pure physical sensation. No Gianni. No betrayal. No charity event drama. Just the slide of skin on skin, the lingering taste of vodka and desire, and the perfect ache spreading through my muscles.

His fingers trace lazy patterns down my spine, sending little shivers through me. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathing in that intoxicating cedarwood scent mixed with sweat and sex. My lips brush against his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Bozhe moy,” I murmur without thinking, the Russian flowing naturally in this unguarded moment. His chest rumbles with quiet laughter at my use of his language.

The intensity between us gentles into something softer but no less intimate. My breathing steadies as I drift in the afterglow, my body still occasionally trembling with residual pleasure. His hand cups the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he holds me against him.

I’ve never experienced anything like this — this raw connection with a complete stranger. The sheer chemistry between us defies explanation. My skin still buzzes where he touched me, marked me, claimed me.

The passionate storm gradually calms, leaving us wrapped in comfortable silence. His steady breathing and the warmth of his body against mine creates a cocoon of peace that I want to stay in forever.

We lie in comfortable silence until he breaks it.

“I’m glad you came back here with me,” he murmurs.

“I’m kinda glad too.” My lips twitch. My body is still tingling. My thoughts pause. “I guess you’re used to this kind of thing.”

“No,” he replies, which I find hard to believe. A man like him could have anyone he wanted.

And he picked me.

Yeah.

For a one-night stand.

Big deal.

I push the thought away. I’m a free woman. This isn’t the Dark Ages. I can take my pleasure where I want it.

“The work you do… for the kids,” he says. “It’s a good thing.”

That comes out of the blue. But it’s a subject I love. I feel myself warm at the thought.

“I love it,” I say, smiling. “There’s nothing more rewarding. More important.”

“You have a good heart.” His fingers trail down my arm.

The intimacy of the moment startles me. Here I am, sharing pieces of my soul with a stranger whose name I don’t even know when just hours ago, I was supposed to be planning a future with Gianni. The guilt crashes over me, even though I know I have no reason to feel guilty. Not after what that bastard did to me.

But suddenly, it feels like too much.

“I should…” I gesture vaguely toward the bathroom, needing space to breathe. He nods, understanding in his dark eyes.

The bathroom is all marble and chrome, screaming luxury. My reflection stops me short — flushed cheeks, wild hair, lips swollen from his kisses. Is this really me? The careful, controlled Stella who plans everything to the last detail, jumping into bed with a mysterious stranger?

The shower calls to me. I turn it on, letting steam fill the room. The hot water might help clear my head, wash away some of this confusion.

But as I stand there watching the mirror fog up, I can’t stop thinking about how right it felt in his arms. How the chemistry between us transcended physical attraction into something deeper, more dangerous. How his touch seemed to understand parts of me I didn’t even know existed.

“This is crazy,” I whisper to my blurring reflection. “You don’t even know him.”

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