Page 56 of Night So Silent
“What if I want to use them on you?” I ask.
Sergei shifts his gaze to the cuffs, eyeing them for a few moments. And that’s when I see it; the spark of curiosity behind his frosty eyes that tells me he’s done for. He’s never said so, and I’ve never asked, but I’m certain that he’s never given anyone else the same look. It’s all mine.
Just like him.
Slowly, I raise up on my elbows and crawl across the bed, reaching for the cuffs. I don’t care about flights or Christmas anymore. OK, fine, I still care about Christmas, but right now I don’t care about schedules or sensibility. I want to spend tonight being incredibly selfish and delusional and in denial of everything waiting for me tomorrow.
I motion for him to take my place. “Lay down.”
Sergei gently takes me by the waist as he moves past me, switching places and settling into the middle of the bed.
“Something tells me thatIwouldn’t have as much luck trapping you while you’re asleep,” I tease.
“No,” he returns smugly.
I swing my leg over his waist and sink down onto his lap, rocking against the hard ridge growing beneath me. “Do you ever sleep? Or is it always with one eye open?”
Sergei runs his hands up and down my thighs and lets me wrap the cuff around one of his massive wrists.
“Sometimes,” he replies with a half-smile. “But I will sleep much better now that you’re safe.”
After fastening one end, I give it a firm tug and then raise his arm to loop the empty cuff through the railing.
I shoot him a devious glance. “You’ll go to sleep when I say you can go to sleep.” Then I reach for his other arm and secure his wrist in the cuff, giving that one a firm tug, too. “I haven’t forgotten about this morning when you tied me to this bed and held me hostage.”
“You were not a hostage,” he replies. “I would not have given you up for anything.”
I never could’ve guessed how much I would love the way that Sergei’s compliments sound like death threats. And I only want more of them. Because, for some inexplicable reason, it makes them sound more genuine, more sincere—morereal.And the juxtaposition of his menacing voice with the image of his colossal figure bound beneath me is utterly intoxicating.
Dropping my hands, I slowly run them over Sergei’s chest, memorizing the contour of each muscle. He flexes at my touch, inhaling deeply while my hands move lower. I didn’t anticipate how much I would love him like this. His giant frame, otherwise incapacitated beneath me, sends a tremor rippling through my core.
Grasping the hem of his thermal that I’m still wearing, I slide it up my body and over my head, taking my bralette with it. The immediate fire behind his gaze as my breasts fall with a bounce feels like static over my entire body. I start grinding against him, slow and torturous.
“Should I take my pants off, too? Or are you otherwise distracted?”
“Take them off now,” Sergei commands, looking and sounding like he’s doling out another threat.
Biting back a smile, I brace myself on his shoulders as I slowly slide my pants over my hips and down past my ass, carefully tucking up each leg and pulling them free, all the while brushing my bare breasts over his face. His head rotates with my chest, chasing the taste of my flesh and the sensation of my tits in his mouth, but he falls just short each time.
“What did I do to you,Printsessa?” Sergei groans as I straighten up. “Why are you punishing me?”
“I would never.” I trail my fingertip along his jaw line. “You’ve only ever treated me like a princess…Zaichonok.” I tap his lips at the last word.
His eyes remain locked on mine, his face emotionless, but his chest falls as he lets all the air out of his lungs. I knew I’d catch him off-guard—my leviathan, my living work of art, my dark and stormy love, myZaichonok, and my only reason for ever learning a single word of Russian.
Because that’s what he is—a bunny. A very big bunny.
“Not the cute and fluffy part,” I clarify, “the other thing they’re known for.”
“Fuck…” Sergei rumbles under his breath.
“Yeah, that part.” I dip down, leaving soft kisses over his lips. “Did I say it wrong?”
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you. You could call me a shit-licking bastard and I would still answer when you call. Where did you learn that?”
My hands wander down to his waist and I start loosening his pants.
“The Internet. Not Google Translate, but a Russian language blog calledRussian with Ari.” I give a little shrug. “I’m not fluent yet or anything.”
