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Another kiss. A tentative lick. Pasha’s hands push on the inside of my thighs, opening my legs wider. In the next moment, his tongue presses to my clit. I inhale and shudder again as a tingling feeling unfurls in my core. Several more licks, and another kiss. His lips mold to my pussy and suck. A moan leaves me, and I squeeze at his hair without thinking.
Pasha’s head snaps up. “Baby?”
“Sorry.” I let go of his hair and push his head down between my legs again. “More.”
He resumes licking me—slow at first, then faster. The pressure between my legs builds, but I need more. Pasha’s mouth slips lower, his tongue entering me, and I gasp at the sensation. My body starts shaking.
“I need . . .” I mutter, arching my back. “More.”
“Just my mouth today, mishka,” Pasha says and moves to suck on my clit again. My body is trembling, yearning.
“More!” I scream and grip his hair with all my strength.
He keeps teasing my clit, switching between licking and sucking while his hand moves along my inner thigh closer to my core. My breathing picks up the moment I feel his finger at my entrance, I’m already close to combusting. Slowly, his finger slides inside, so impossibly carefully, it makes me want to weep. He’s acting as if it’s my first time. As if there weren’t dozens of other men who already plunged their way inside me by force. I throw my head back and moan, riding the unfamiliar feeling of floating that comes over me while wetness pools between my legs. When he has his finger fully in, he presses his lips over my clit and sucks, hard, and it feels like I burst into a million tiny butterflies. I never imagined that it would feel so whimsical to have an orgasm.
My body is still trembling when Pasha lies down beside me. He wraps his arm around my front, placing his hand on the back of my head, and tucks my face into the crook of his neck.
“I wish my first time was with you,” I whisper.
“It will be.”
“Pasha, you know very well—”
His hand covers my lips. “Your first time is going to be with me,” he says next to my ear. “All that from before, it doesn’t count. Do you understand?”
I press my lips together, trying not to cry while something warm swells inside my chest, gluing together a couple of the broken pieces of my soul.
Chapter 15
“Pasha,ma che fai?”
I look up from the spaghetti I was just going to place into the pot. Asya is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, staring at my hands in horror.
“You do not break spaghetti!” She walks around the island, shaking her head.
“They’re too long. Can’t fit into the pot,” I say.
“No, no, no, you can never do that.” She takes the spaghetti noodles out of my hands and throws them into the trash can in the corner. Then, heads to the cupboard, probably to get another package. She stiffens the moment she pulls the cabinet door open, her hand squeezing the handle as she stares at the bags of different pasta lined up on the top shelf. They are all different brands. I walk up and lift her free hand until it’s hovering right before the bags.
“Take your time,” I say next to her ear and let go of her hand.
Asya stares at the shelf. With her hand still hovering in midair, she bites her lower lip, then grabs the middle bag.
“I did it,” she says, squeezing the bag.
“You did.” I smile and place a kiss on the side of her neck.
She tilts her head, giving me more access.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.”
“I never would have managed it without you.” She turns to face me. “You know that, don’t you?”
“You would have.”
“No. I probably wouldn’t.” She places her hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”
She rushes around the kitchen, getting the pasta into the pot and the cheese out of the fridge. There’s a small smile on her lips, and I feel the warmth in my chest upon seeing it. I’m so fucking proud of her. It took weeks of practice to get to this point, and she’s doing considerably better. It may take us a little more time for us to be where she won’t need me to steer her toward the decision, but we’ll make it there eventually. Suddenly, panic replaces the warmth in my chest. Will she leave when she gets better? She probably will.
