Page 92 of Gilded in Blood

The way he controls my air makes everything feel sharper, more intense. I love it.

When I finally come, it’s explosive. I cry out his name, my whole body shaking as pleasure rips through me. My walls clamp down around him, milking him as I come hard.

He groans, thrusting deep a few more times before he comes inside me, filling me with heat. He stays buried in me for a moment, breathing hard against my neck.

Then he pulls out slowly. I’m boneless on the bed, barely able to move. He uses his fingers to gather his cum that’s leaking down my thighs and slowly pushes it back inside me.

“None of it goes to waste,” he murmurs, fucking me gently with his fingers. I’m so sensitive that it doesn’t take long before I come again, a smaller, trembling orgasm that leaves me whimpering.

When he finally pulls his fingers out, he brings them to my mouth. I taste the mix of us and moan softly.

He leans down, whispering in my ear, “Now you’re part of the Mile High Club.”

After we touch down, we check into a high-profile but discreet hotel. The kind that only caters to a very select few. The security is tight, the staff professional and unobtrusive.

It’s meant to keep us safe, but from the moment we arrived, Kirill has been paranoid. I can see it in the way his shoulders stay tense, the way his eyes constantly scan every hallway, every corner, every person who walks by.

He double-checks doors, windows, even the layout of our suite. I don’t blame him. Not after everything that’s happened.

I nap for a couple of hours after we settle in because of the jet lag. When I wake up, it’s already evening. The city lights are starting to glow outside the windows, and I feel restless.

I’ve been dying to see my best friend, Sarah. We’ve been talking on the phone, but now that I’m actually back in Manchester, I can’t just stay cooped up in this hotel without seeing her.

I walk out to the living room of the suite. Kirill is on the couch, focused on his laptop, fingers typing quickly. I take the laptop from him gently and place it on the coffee table. He looks up at me, eyebrows raised.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I don’t answer with words. I climb onto his lap, straddling him, my hands resting on his shoulders.

“So,” I say, smiling, “I was thinking…”

He looks at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “That can’t be good.”

“Come on, you haven’t even heard what I was thinking about.”

“Okay. Go on. Tell me.”

I lean in a little closer. “How about I see my friend Sarah? There’s this club⁠—”

“No,” he cuts in.

I go on anyway. “There's this bar-slash-club we used to go to back then. No one knows I’m around. No one will even look for me there. But I can meet her. We won’t stay long. An hour tops.”

He shakes his head immediately. “No. I can’t let you go out. It’s not safe.”

I pout, running my fingers along the back of his neck. “Come on. We can’t stay holed up here all night. I’m going to lose my mind. I need to go out and have some fun. Besides, it’ll help us unwind. Don’t you want to go out? Back in New York, we were indoors the whole time. Now we’re in Manchester and we’re still indoors. I haven’t even gone out since that night. Please, indulge me. Just an hour.”

I lean in and kiss him, soft and pleading, my body pressed against his. I feel him groan against my lips, his hands tightening on my waist.

“Fine,” he mutters, sounding defeated but not entirely unhappy about it. “But we’re not staying long. And you stay close to me the entire time.”

I grin, happiness bubbling up inside me. “Great! I’ll call Sarah and let her know.”

The moment we step into the club, I’m taken over by the energy.

The music pulses through the air, bass vibrating in my chest. The lights flash in rhythm with the beat, bodies moving on the dance floor, laughter and conversation filling every corner.

It feels good to be back. To be in a place where I can let loose, even if just for a little while.