Page 62 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
He growls against my lips, his fingers knotting tighter in my hair.
He can feel it.
Moving faster and faster, our bodies lock together, and in a moment, completely frozen in time, I explode, my pussy vibrating as the orgasm slams into me, his cock rigid inside me, my pussy locked over him as his body locks me beneath him. He explodes inside me, and my orgasm triples.
In this moment, I belong to him.
Our breathing is heavy as he lies on top of my back.
A naughty giggle spills from my lips, and Emmanuil chuckles. “Did you enjoy that, kitten?” he asks.
I nod. “Very much so,” I say sleepily.
He rolls off me, sliding out of me, but he keeps his arm around me and pulls me with him.
Kicking the blankets away from beneath us, he cuddles me against his chest and tucks us into his bed.
I have no intention of running away again like I did last time. I don’t have the overwhelming surge of panicked emotions flooding me now.
And even if I wanted to try and make a run for it, Emmanuil has made sure I can’t. He’s holding me so securely I’m not going anywhere tonight.
Emmanuil yawns loudly, groaning in satisfaction as he slowly releases a long breath of air. “I’m going to sleep better than I have in a long time,” he says, and despite my eyes being closed, I can hear the smile in his voice.
I snuggle closer against his chest, brushing my fingers over his pecs.
I’m happy. Very happy.
Tonight could not have been more perfect.
I fall asleep quickly.
***
Over the next few days, it’s obvious that our relationship has shifted.
We are closer, things are more easygoing. Our friendship has grown, and there are definite benefits, seeing as I’ve been sharing his bed at night instead of going to my own.
I’m in a relaxed mood, humming while I stand in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil so I can make a cup of tea.
It’s late. Em is still at work. He messaged me a few hours ago to say he’s had something come up and that I shouldn’t wait up for him. For some reason, though, I can’t sleep, and I’m waiting for him anyway.
I don’t want to fall asleep without saying good night to him. He really means a lot to me. I’m not even worried about my heart anymore. I’ve just decided that whatever happens when this is over, it’s okay. I will deal with it at the time. For now, I want to enjoy everything.
The kettle clicks off and I jump, lost in thought and getting a fright.
I giggle at myself, picking it up and pouring freshly boiled water into my teacup. The air quickly fills with chamomile-scented steam as my tea bag dances around in the hot water.
I hear the front door opening and closing quietly.
Is that Em? My heart flutters with excitement. I haven’t seen him all day.
Leaving the tea to soak, I rush out of the kitchen to say hello, but when I round the corner and find him standing there, he looks miserable and exhausted. His face is tight, and his jaw is set firmly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing towards him. He drops his jacket onto the coat hook near the door and sighs heavily. When he faces me, I immediately notice the dark red stains across the white sleeves of his shirt.
“Em, you’re hurt,” I say, horrified.
“It’s not bad,” he sighs.
