50. KAVI

50

KAVI

I'm in Vancouver. I got the first ticket I could find, and I've come to the building that I lived in for weeks, my desperation growing less and less containable.

The doorman knows me by name, and I've still got direct access to the penthouse elevator, and the front door is unlocked.

Before pushing it open, my forehead rests against the frame.

The word home flashes through my mind instead of Dmitri's place. I suck in such a deep breath. My face is a mini-furnace. How strange. I lived here for weeks. Why am I suddenly so nervous?

It's a cumulation of the attraction, flirting, and supporting each other—but made worse recently. The audio he sent me about his dad was completely raw. All I want to do is hold him. My heart is shaking in my throat.

I push the door open and let myself in. My bag drops quietly to the floor. I move into the living room, wondering if he's home.

He is.

Looking at the scene before me, I stagger. My heart… my ovaries… I can't … This is more than anyone should be asked to handle.

Dmitri is sleeping on the couch and curled onto his chest is Mayo.

I must make some noise sensitive to dog ears, because Mayo immediately scrambles off Dmitri and comes towards me.

My arms open. I'm down on my knees.

Oomph.

My chest makes full contact, the streak of fur toppling me over. He's licking my face and wagging his tail. I whisper, "Good boy. Such a good boy. I missed you so much. I can't believe you are here. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

I look up.

Dmitri is awake. His voice is rough with sleep, but still hits me like an anvil. He's standing and staring at me.

I slowly rise and go closer to him. "I didn't mean to wake you."

His eyes wander all over me, from those same biker shorts to my oversized t-shirt. "You're—here. I'm not dreaming."

He says the last part like it's a question.

I go to pinch him with the intention of being funny (why?), but find myself stroking his arm, leaning forward, breathing him in. "I'm here."

He's wearing a cotton shirt that lifts at the stomach when he moves forward abruptly and unexpectedly, his hands grabbing my face. I go on my toes. Our mouths collide, pressing against each other. There's a bruising hunger that won't settle down. His mouth is so insistent and thorough.

By contrast, his fingers cradle as if I might break or go away if he does anything wrong.

When I meet his tongue with mine, he groans and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in tight.

He moves us together until my back finds something solid to press on. He's so hungry with his mouth, but his palms slam, going flat above my head on the wall as if they need reminders. As if they'll just rip my clothes right off otherwise.

Me, I'm trying to climb him with my legs, grinding against Dmitri until I reach it. The hard length of him straining the front of his pants. It takes up so much room, branding my belly. I can't help but whimper.

Dmitri pulls apart and buries his head into my neck.

"Princess. Fuck. I'm sorry." His mouth traces across my jawline. "Tell me to stop."

"You don't want me?" I whimper.

He lifts his head. Blown out pupils. "All I ever want is you."

Desperately, I wrap my hand around the base of his neck. "Don't you think I want this?"

He sucks on a spot under my ear. "Don't regret this. I—need you in my life."

I left for the interview because I thought I had to. Is he afraid I'll take more of myself away?

I want to tell him that he's stolen so much. Why is Seattle cold and gray and empty because it's not a city he lives in? Why did these last two days feel long in the worst way? Why did I miss absolutely everything about Dmitri, even the stubborn press of his golden eyes?

I couldn't watch reality tv at night. I always use it to wind down, but not without him now. The dinners I had were absolute snorefests. I kept missing my mouth, the spoon hitting my cheek as my thoughts wandered back to us in this kitchen, prodding each other. Laughing. Eye-rolling.

He's in me.

But I want him in me.

When his erection finds a home in the juncture between my legs, I moan. "Please. More…"

He pulls his mouth away, his gaze wistfully half-lidded. "More?"

"More."

I rub against him.

His mouth finds my ear. Out spills the calmest and filthiest dirty talk. "Does she need to be filled? To be stretched out and stuffed? Is that what your pretty pussy needs? To be fucked?"

All I can do is nod.

His mouth brushes against my neck. "How hard?"

I whimper.

"How many inches do I get?"

"Please." I try reaching for the tent in his pants.

He catches my wrist, one of his hands finally coming down from the wall.

"How many times do I get?" he asks, demanding to know.

The feeling inside me is so intense it takes precious moments for words to work.

"How many times do you—want?" I stammer.

Something starved etches into the lines of his expression. "I want to keep fucking you until you tap out."

A blaze sets fire to my core. Until I tap out?

"Is that okay? Because once will never be enough. Not even close, Princess. You'll have to take me. Please, take me. Let me fill you up until I'm dripping out of you."

What is happening ? He's barely touched me, and I'm losing it already. His words? I whimper because that's all I am capable of doing at this point.

He gently presses his bulge against me. "Tell me, Princess. Give me permission. Will you finally have me? Can I please fuck you?"

My core clenches. Spasms. Weeps. "I—Yes!"

Mayo thinks he's being summoned. He yips at our heels.

Dmitri eases himself back, eyes pitch-black. His throat bobbles.

He needs a moment. Two. Three.

He goes on his haunches and picks up Mayo. "Come here, buddy. Let's set you up in your favorite place."

He walks him over to the terrace door, and that's when I notice. The grill is there, but it's been tucked further into a corner because space was needed for a massive dog playground. It has steps to climb, cubby holes to scurry into, a tubed slide to belly-roll down. Everything is customized and sprawling. There's even a designated potty area for times he can't wait to get down the elevator and outside. It's a little kingdom just for Mayo.

Has Dmitri adopted him? Everything points to yes.

OH.

I CAN'T.

My chest explodes with a hurricane of butterflies, and another piece clicks into place about Dmitri Lokhov. Behind this grump is a shy man who doesn't let many people in, but when he does, he wants to give them everything he has.

I need the wall to lean on because my knees are weak seeing Dmitri lead Mayo to his playground, watching him give him a treat, and telling him he'll be back later.

When Dmitri steps back inside the apartment, he leaves the terrace door cracked enough that if Mayo wants to come back inside, he can.

I hold my breath until he reaches me.

"Is this still okay?" Dmitri asks, stopping himself before he can touch me. His words are strangled, yet so damn polite. "You can change your mind. If you're not ready, we don't have to."

He's hard, and painfully so. But also checking up on me.

"Kavi?"

I jump him.