Page 23 of The Crimson Lily
Oh, man, that release. An electrical shock. A blazing pulse from my heart to the tip of my fingers.
His lips make this kiss worth everything I have to give. They’re so ripe yet so delicate, so enticing. He presses them against mine like he wants to devour me, to consume me until there’s nothing left. He pushes his tongue, so sweet and tender, into my mouth. I let a moan escape when he releases my lips to feast down my neck. He takes a few nibbles, a few soft bites, while his hands slip underneath my large Columbia sweatshirt and explore my skin. They make their way to my back and haul me in, giving me no choice but to stand on my toes or I’ll lose balance.
I moan a loud, uncontrolled wail, which sounds like too much. I push him from me, looking him dead in the eyes with a cocky smirk.
“I didn’t think of you as a man who takes advantage of drunk girls,” I say in a cheeky little voice, expecting a silent response or a smirk.
He pulls back instead and scowls at me. No, this isn’t the reaction I hoped for. I almost trip the moment he releases me.
Maksim stares at me with his mouth half-open, panting, his blue eyes piercing right through me. “You’ve wanted this for days, but I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Busted. I don’t wait. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to steal a kiss. Not a minute later, I am latching on to his hair. I clench my fingers in his mane, semi-aware of this animalistic effect he has on me.
I hear him growl. He leads my arms up and rids me of my sweatshirt…and everything else above the belt.
He lifts me up. I am now two heads taller than usual. He brings me to the bed and gently lays me on the sheets. His eyes bounce furtively between my face and my chest. He crawls on top of me and kisses me again, bites my neck, dives down my breasts, and takes one of my nipples between his lips.
I manage to get a hold of his shirt and pull it off him, then pop open his buckle and slide his trousers along his legs.
Fuck. I want him. I want him so bad. My body is screaming for it.
I make him roll over, then climb over him like I am the rider and he is to be my stallion for the night. He’s exploring my body, discovering me, squeezing here and there just a little too hard. His eyes, now silver again, swallow me whole.
I have to ditch my jeans and thong, I just have to, so I reel off the bed and do exactly that.
I almost trip. The earth is still spinning.
I stand there, naked and quivering by the side of the bed. The whiskey has taken over most of me. I take one good, long look at him, savoring the view. His muscles, tight and firm, effortlessly work on getting him to sit up straight. His skin gleams with ivory hues in the light of the room. I think he notices me staring because he reflects my gaze back at me.
Then his eyes narrow. The silver turns back to a severe blue.
“I don’t take advantage of drunk girls,” he says with an undefined sneer.
No, don’t stop. He can’t stop now!
“But I want it!” I whine. I sound like a little girl who desperately wants something she’s not allowed to have.
The moment I yelp, he relaxes his stance and motions for me to come back to him. I swear, I am about to, but his last words buzz in my head, and so does the alcohol.
And maybe a spark of reason.
I can’t continue, not like this. I don’t want a night with this man to be like this, with a drunk me who can barely stand. I simply go sit beside him, still naked, and my eyes meet his. I look down. And back up. And back down again. I suddenly feel so ashamed. Yes, I just threw myself at this criminal, without even a shred of hesitation. I am so inebriated that the earth is about to fall from its own axis.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I murmur. Again, like a little girl who’s about to do something bad.
He catches my wrist.
“Liliana, know that if you change your mind, I won’t let you change it again,” he says, stern and emotionless, but I swear his eyes are silver again.
“Y-yes,” I stutter and nod. Then I regain my smirk, faking it, hoping he won’t notice. “I just think I’d perform better if I weren’t?—”
“Drunk?”
I nod silently again. I slip beside him, finding my way against his broad chest. I look up. His lips are still in reach. So I meet his eyes and stay there for a little while. I ask him if I can sleep next to him. I don’t get an answer, but I fall asleep in his arms, his heartbeat my lullaby.
I wake up in the middle of the night, finding myself in a cold bed. Maksim is gone. Oh, of course, the first thing I do is panic. I stand up, completely stripped of my clothes. The earth is definitely still spinning! I head into the bathroom, search all four corners of the room, and peek into the hallway at least three times. I call his name. Nothing. No response. Maksim is really gone.
I am dead scared. I haven’t been this scared since I woke up in the hospital, alone. No, actually, since much more recently. Since unsolicited memories have started to come back. I call his name again. Tears invade my eyes. I sit on the bed, my arms around my knees, my skin reflecting the lights of Paris at midnight that loom into the room. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to fall asleep again, but I am submerged in a rising tide of loneliness.
