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And to prepare myself for the hardest conversation I’m ever going to have. Because despite all the progress we’ve made tonight, the thought of telling Gleb he’s Gabby’s father still puts a lead weight in my stomach.
I really, really don’t want to mess this up.
14
MEL
Soft, sensual kisses rouse me from a deep and dreamless sleep. Gleb’s lips slowly track down the curve of my neck to my shoulder blade. A soft hum issues from my lips, and they curl into a sleepy smile. Rich contentment fills my body in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
At some point in the night, I ended up curled against Gleb’s chest, my butt tucked into the curve of his hips, his arms holding me close. He makes the perfect big spoon. And in his warm embrace, I think I had what might be the best sleep of my life.
Turning my head as his lips begin to retrace their path, I steal a kiss and roll my hips back against him.
“Morning, bozhestvennaya boginya,” he murmurs, the Russian making the anticipation in my stomach coil.
Squirming in his grasp, I turn to face him, slinging one leg over his hips as I comb my fingers into his hair. And after peering into his thoughtful green eyes, I kiss him deeply.
“Morning,” I breathe when we finally come up for air.
Before I can say another word, Gleb rolls on top of me, the iron rod of his erection alerting me to his arousal. Heat blossoms in my core, my heart rate kicking up several notches. And the anticipation that builds inside me burns the lingering drowsiness from my veins.
I like this side of Gleb.
He’s not holding back. He’s not guarded, watching, waiting for my reaction.
He’s indulging in what he wants.
And knowing that he woke up wanting me releases butterflies in my tummy.
His lips leave mine to slowly trail down my body. I gasp as his lips close around my nipple, teasing it to a point. And after he’s sure it’s good and hard, he releases it with a pop to repeat the process on my other one.
Air rushes past my lips as my excitement turns my breathing ragged. My hips roll instinctually, and my thigh brushes the bandage covering Gleb’s stitches. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he continues his exploration down my body, following the line that runs between my breasts and to my navel.
My heart skips a beat as his broad shoulders spread my thighs, and I realize where this is heading. A moment later, his warm breath washes across the sensitive peak of my thighs. I shudder, the sensation releasing a gush of slick excitement that coats my folds.
But rather than stroking his tongue along my slit, like Gleb did the first time, now, he rocks back to kneel at my feet. Grasping one of my ankles, he lifts my foot. Resting it gently over his heart, he kneads my sole with his thumbs.
A groan of agonized pleasure rushes from me before I can stop it. He’s right on the tender spot of my arch—and after the barefoot sprint I made from the subway yesterday, the pressure is almost more than I can bear. But it feels so good, I don’t want him to stop.
He does anyway, his hands pausing in response to my pained moan. And when he lifts my foot to look at my sole, I know I’m in trouble. I tried scrubbing them clean after I put Gabby to bed last night, but no doubt they’re a mottled mess by this morning.
“Christ, Mel. What happened?” he asks, his voice rough.
“I couldn’t run fast enough in my heels yesterday.” My cheeks warm, and I bite my lip as I watch Gleb, waiting for the anger that’s sure to follow.
His eyes close, his jaw flexing as he releases a heavy breath through his nose. And when he opens his eyes again, they’ve grown in intensity.
“Are they that bad?” I ask.
“I mean, they’re not good. You’re covered in bruises. Do they hurt?” The concern in his eyes makes my heart flutter. And though his voice is gruff, I don’t actually think he seems mad.
“Not much. What you were doing felt really good.” Heat blossoms in my core when I say it, the warmth radiating from my skin until I’m sure I must feel like I have a temperature.
Gleb’s eyes shift from the sole of my foot back to my face. The fire in his gaze shifting back to the ridiculously enticing one I woke to. Taking my second foot, he brings both to rest over his heart this time, and rather than massage each with both hands, he does them simultaneously, the pressure just right.
“Oh god,” I murmur, my head falling back as my eyes flutter closed.
After letting me savor the attention, Gleb shifts my feet to his shoulders. And slowly, his lips start to work their way up the inside of my ankle, my calf, my thigh. I love the way he takes his time. As if he’s exploring every inch of me, ensuring each small square of flesh is part of the fun.
