Page 299 of Ruins
I push the button for our bedroom before pressing Vasilisa against the elevator wall. A gasp escapes her lips, confusion flashing through her eyes before I kiss her—hard, deep, taking everything she gives me and demanding more. She melts into me instantly, moaning softly as her body relaxes, arms wrapping around my neck. I lift her up, and her legs wrap around my waist, where she belongs.
I swallow every breathless sound she makes, my hands already skimming up her thighs, pushing her dress higher and higher, impatient.
I groan as my fingers find thin silk; the only barrier between me and what’s mine. My girl always makes it so easy for me. Hooking my fingers beneath the fabric, I push it aside.
Vasilisa gasps against my mouth at the first stroke of my fingers over her clit, her body arching into mine.
She tries to stifle her moans, but she’s never been good at that, her lips latching onto my neck instead, biting down to contain the sounds.
"Is this what you wanted?" I murmur, voice low against her ear as I press a finger inside her, feeling her pussy tighten around me immediately. "For me to touch you?"
She muffles another gasp, her teeth grazing my throat, and it only makes me hungrier.
"Answer me," I command, my voice dark, even as my fingers keep teasing, stroking, pushing her further.
She nods frantically. "Yes," she gasps, voice shaky. "Yes, Santo."
"That's my girl."
I slide a second finger inside her, stretching, stroking, working her into a frenzy. Her hips roll, desperate, chasing what only I can give her.
The elevator jolts slightly as it stops, and her eyes fly open in surprise.
I don’t stop.
Instead, I press my thumb against her clit, rubbing in tight, precise circles that have her clutching onto me, nails biting into my shoulders.
"You’re close," I whisper against her ear, watching every flicker of pleasure play across her face. "Let it happen."
As the doors slide open, her pussy clenches around my fingers, pleasure rippling through her in waves.
She gasps against my throat, soft, breathless, so fucking perfect as she shatters in my arms.
I stroke her through it, dragging out every last tremor until she sags against me, boneless,spent.
Slowly, I slide my fingers out of her and set her down on shaky legs.
She leans against me, catching her breath, and I take my time—licking the taste of her from my fingers, savoring every last trace of her pleasure.
She watches me, flushed and dazed, strands of hair clinging to the dampness on her forehead. I reach up, brushing them away, smoothing my thumb along her temple.
She's so fucking beautiful, I smirk. "Welcome home."
I grab the canvas, pressing it into her hands before leading her toward our bedroom.
She smiles at me following behind, I watch as she stands the canvas on the dresser and turns to me expectantly.
“Now?” I ask softly.
She nods and unveils the painting with bated breath.
My heart drops to my stomach, and a lump grows in my throat as I take in what my wife has created. It’s a portrait of my mother. Vasilisa has captured the light in my mother’s eyes so well, it’s as if I’m face to face with her right now.
“I... I...” I stutter, struggling to find the words. The room feels like it’s spinning around me.
“Do you like it, Santo?” Vasilisa looks up at me through thick lashes, her eyes wide and filled with concern. Her hands fidget together.
“Like it?” I echo, my voice hoarse. “Vasilisa... this... I don’t know what to say...”
