Page 165 of Anton

Anton’s brow lifts. “Be careful who you say that to.”

“Jealous of your own dog?”

“I’m jealous of everyone when it comes to you.” A smirk touches his face as he opens the bedroom door and points into the hall. “Out.”

Volchok huffs, but listens, padding out with one last wounded look in my direction before Anton shuts the door behind him. Then he returns to the bed and lowers me onto the pillows, his eyes heavy-lidded as they travel down my body, taking in my baby-blue spaghetti-strap tank and cutoff jean shorts.

“I think you need something comfortable to rest in.”

“I’m not even tired.”

His hand moves to the back of his neck, and that’s when I notice the outline of his very hard cock. He hasn’t touched me since I came out of the hospital. Too afraid, I think.

I’ll have to fix that.

“You’re right,” I tell him, my fingers already working the zipper down as I tug the denim past my hips.

“Thora…” He presses two fingers into his temple. “What are you doing?”

“Doing what you ordered.” I shove the shorts down until I’m in nothing but my panties. “Getting comfortable.”

When I sit up and tug my tank over my head, my breasts spill free. Anton closes his eyes, and he might be praying, though whatever he mutters under his breath sounds anything but holy.

Grabbing the belt loop of his pants, I draw him closer. “I want you, Anton.”

My fingers close around his massive erection, and he growls, his fingers sliding into my hair.

“Want me to make that better, baby?” I ask, batting my lashes and playing innocent.

“Mm…detka, why are you trying to kill me?”

“It’s what I do.” I shrug, a teasing smile stealing over my face as I undo his button, drag the zipper down, and shove his pants and boxers out of my way.

“Thora…” He groans, his palm cradling the back of my head as I lick the crown of his cock. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because…” I swipe my tongue over him again. “You needed a little help, or you would’ve been too afraid to fuck me. And frankly, I’m tired of waiting.”

“I was trying to be good.” His fingers flex in my hair. “But you make it difficult.”

“I’m not going to break, Anton. Let me show you.”

I lie on my front and take him deep until he hits the back of my throat, and he keeps me there until I gag.

“Yes, just like that, detka.” His voice turns rough enough to scrape over my skin. “I’ve missed that mouth.”

He fists my hair, working me up and down his length. When I moan, it only spurs him on, his palm landing sharply against my ass until my core throbs. The more I suck him, the more animalistic he becomes.

“You like it when I use your mouth, don’t you?”

I nod, looking up at him as I keep working him. His cock jerks against my tongue, another curse tearing from him before he grips my hair and pulls me away. He turns me onto my back and settles over me as my legs lock around his hips. Holding me beneath him, he looks at me with every emotion laid bare.

“I love you, Thora.” He eases inside me with torturous care, making me feel all of him.

“I love you too.”

His mouth claims mine, the kiss carrying everything he still struggles to say, every confession and truth buried under the rubble of lies passing between us without another word. He thrusts deeper until I take all of him, stretching and filling me so perfectly.

Anton kisses me with slow, deliberate hunger as his fingers slide into my hair. His mouth trails down my throat and over my collarbone before closing around one hardened nipple. Pleasure shoots through me, and when he gives the other the same attention, I’m already losing my mind.