8. Mel

Heat sears through my veins at the way Gleb kisses me. I never dreamed it could feel like this. To have a man touch me and leave me craving more. The sound of his bedroom door closing behind us makes my heart skip a beat.

But I feel entirely safe alone with Gleb.

Despite the passion in his kiss, he's soft, his movements slow and inviting, like he wants to make sure I'm ready for each step before he takes it. And even as my pulse races, my chest tightens at his tenderness.

Though he's astonishingly careful with me, his arms feel like iron as they hold me close. No man should be this strong, especially when his athletic build is more lean than burly. But pressed against Gleb's body like I am now, I'm starting to rethink my opinion of how muscular he must be beneath his clothes.

He doesn't back me against the wall or pin me down, trapping me like the men who have crammed their tongues down my throat in the past. Instead, Gleb gently leads me as he steps slowly backward toward his bed.

I follow, my stomach somersaulting at the thought of getting in bed with him. None of the activities I've done before have required lying down, and a thrill ripples through my body as I replay his words in my mind. I want you so fucking bad I can't trust myself.

Does that mean I shouldn't trust him?

My breath hitches, and he stops, breaking our kiss. Then he sinks onto the edge of his bed. Opening his knees, he sits so I can stand between them. I'm slightly taller than him now, and it's astonishingly empowering. I'm still nervous, but the giddy excitement far outrides any trepidation I might feel.

As his hands come to rest on my hips, Gleb peers up at me with those emotional green eyes. They're brimming with desire now, the heat melting my core into jelly. But beneath that is a deep, unspoken concern.

"You're sure you want this?" he rasps, his voice uncustomarily rough. And I don't know why, but it makes my heart pound.

I nod, leaning in to brush my lips across his and relishing the tingling energy that passes between us. "Maybe just… take it slow?" I suggest, combing my fingers into his dark crew cut.

His Adam's apple bobs, and he nods. "You can tell me at any point if you want to stop."

"Well, that's a first," I joke, my nerves obstructing my filter, and I immediately regret it.

Gleb's fingers tighten, pressing into the flesh of my hips, and his eyes close, locking me out momentarily. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and his nostrils flare as he swallows convulsively.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" My voice quivers as a wave of emotion washes through me. I hate when it does that. It makes me feel weak, vulnerable. "It was a bad joke."

"Mel, did Mikhail's men touch you?" he asks hoarsely after a painfully long moment of silence. His eyes open once again, their intensity burning through me. "You can tell me. It won't change how I feel about you. I just… need to know. I swore I would protect you. Was I too late?"

My bleeding heart. If words alone could cut me open, I'd have bled out on the spot. "No," I promise. Running my fingers through the short hair at his temples, I try to find a way to fix the damage I've done.

His eyes shift from mine, dropping to my throat, and one hand reaches tentatively to brush the tender shadow of bruises Zmeya left behind. Gleb misses nothing. "Mel," he urges gently.

"Well, okay, I mean, no one raped me. Obviously, they touched me because it's not like they told me to get in the van, and I was just like, ‘Okay!' You know me well enough by now to guess how cooperative I was about doing anything they said."

That draws a rare chuckle from Gleb, and the low, soft sound makes my heart skip a beat. What I wouldn't give to be able to make him laugh all the time.

"But really, Gleb, I'm fine. Your timing was impeccable—as always." I give a cheeky grin, but this time, all I get is the hint of a smile in his eyes. "Now, please, can we stop talking about it? I don't want to think about other men tonight. I want to know what it feels like to be with someone who respects me as a person, someone who makes me feel safe and thinks of me as more than just a piece of property. I want to feel what it's like to be with a man who cares about how I feel. Because if this past year has taught me anything, it's that I might not get tomorrow, and I need to feel something good and right with someone I choose before I die."

Gleb releases a heavy breath, his fingers traveling from the tender points on my neck to trace the lines of my face. His fingers brush across my cheek, his palm curving along my jaw as his thumb strokes my lower lip.

All are caresses that would have made me cringe in the past, attention that would have brought bile to my throat and raised goosebumps on my flesh. But now, it just makes my heart flutter with anticipation.

"I can promise you tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice dark and haunted. "I won't let anything happen to you, Mel. Never again."

A laugh bursts from me because, as perceptive as Gleb is, it's like he's intentionally missing my point. So I dig deep for courage and boldly place one knee on either side of his hips, straddling his legs so I can settle intimately onto his lap. His arousal presses against the peak of my thighs, and it unleashes a nervous excitement that makes my core quiver.

He's been so careful not to touch me that it's been excruciatingly impossible to tell if he has feelings for me at all. But now I know without a doubt. He wasn't just saying it. Gleb wants me. Which makes his words that much more meaningful.

And because talking doesn't seem to be getting me anywhere, I tilt my head, letting my hair fall over one shoulder as I lean in to kiss him. Fire ignites between us, and I let my instincts take over, my tongue darting out to taste his surprisingly soft lips. Gleb's strong arms enfold me once more, pulling me close.

He smells of hickory, pine, and ash—like a campfire—mingled with a hint of leather and gunpowder, forming an intensely masculine and strangely alluring fragrance. Dangerous would be the best way to describe the scent that clings to him, and somehow, it makes me feel all the more safe.

His kisses grow more urgent, his tongue tangling with mine in a foreign and intoxicating way, encouraging my excitement and, at the same time, exploring me like his penetrating gaze. A brazen hunger possesses me, and before I'm fully aware of what I'm doing, my fingers have traveled down to the nape of his neck, then his back so I can gather the fabric of his shirt and guide it up toward his shoulders.

Wordlessly, he shrugs out of it, letting me undress him. I gasp at the sight of his chiseled pecs and abs. They're so well defined they could be painted on. He's the perfect balance between lean and muscular—clearly fit but not in the hulking, brawny, gym rat kind of way. He's built like a fighter. A tattoo in Cyrillic runs down the length of his left side, a single line that leaves me burning to know what it means.

And something I can only describe as an intricate family crest lies over his heart like an emblem. I trace my finger over the curving design, petting the wolf-like beast that bares its fangs at the center.

Gleb's hand covers mine, his fingers gently wrapping around my knuckles, and he draws my hand away. He guides my palm to his cheek, and my eyes follow instinctively.

"Perhaps we can leave the past behind us tonight," he suggests, his Russian accent growing thicker in the moment.

And though I'm dying to know what that means—and what his tattoo has to do with his past—I nod.

Tangling his fingers in my hair, he brings me down to kiss him. I lean into him, savoring the moment, willing the barriers between us to fall away and grant me the relief I so desperately crave.

One arm wrapped around my waist, the other cupping the back of my head, Gleb holds me close. But it feels like too many barriers separate us. I reach for the hem of the oversized sweater I found in the closet of my room. I pull it up until Gleb has to release me so I can remove it entirely.

A rumbling growl issues from deep in his throat as Gleb's eyes find my bare breasts—I decided no bra would be better than the dirty, tattered one I arrived in. My nipples are hard from the cool air combined with his predatory gaze, and I breathe heavily as I suddenly don't know what to do next.

I want him to touch me, but I'm also terrified I won't like it if he does.

His warm, powerful hands find my waist, sliding steadily up my back as his fingers splay. And the heat that seeps into my skin feels so good my hips roll, arching my back. My eyelids flutter closed, and a moment later, something soft and warm closes around my nipple.

I gasp, the air rushing from my lungs at the pure ecstasy that lances through my body, and my shuddering breaths grow heavy as my hips rock more fervently against the iron length of his erection. I can tell he's large, though I've never seen it. But compared to the cocks I've had shoved in my face, his might be the biggest.

A fresh wave of anxiety washes through me as I think about what it would be like to take him down my throat. Sex won't be like that, will it? I mean, it can't be as bad as choking on a man because he refuses to pull out before he comes in my mouth. But I do know that smaller is better, in that regard. At least then, I can still breathe.

Leave the past behind you, Mel,I instruct, taking Gleb's words as my mantra because I really want to enjoy this. To feel what it's like when this is my choice. And god, it feels good to have his lips wrapped around the throbbing tip of my nipple, his tongue flicking it lightly as he sucks until I'm ready to cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god," I whimper as he switches sides, and the pulsing tension between my thighs reaches an almost agonizing intensity.

His fingers press more adamantly against my back, and when his teeth lightly close on the tender point of my flesh, intense pleasure explodes through my body. A tidal wave of euphoria ripples through me. Gasping with the overwhelming sensation, I can't seem to control my hips as they grind forward against his hard cock. My clit pulses in a new, blissful form of release, and suddenly my panties are soaking wet.

I pant, my hands coming to rest on Gleb's strong shoulders as I realize that must be what an orgasm feels like. "Holy shit," I breathe. And as liquid contentment trickles through my veins, I want to experience that level of pleasure again.

Gleb releases my hard nub with a soft pop, his lips traveling slowly up my chest to my neck. As he brushes the tender flesh with his tongue, he sends a shiver of arousal up my spine. His soft skin grazing against mine is driving me crazy.

"Make love to me," I murmur. Heat radiates in my cheeks as soon as the words leave my lips. Why did I say it like that? He can't possibly make love to me. Wouldn't he need to be in love with me for that to happen?

But he seems to grasp what I mean, and for the first time tonight, he doesn't question me. Instead, he wraps one powerful arm around my hips and lifts me. Turning, he lowers my back onto the mattress in one fluid movement. And for a moment, he's pressed between my thighs, the weight of his hips making my stomach tremble.

Then he's sitting up, rising to his knees as his fingers find the waistband of my leggings. He drags them slowly down my hips, my thighs, baring each inch of my flesh as if he's prepared to stop the second I say so. But I'm so filled with need, that's not going to happen.

"God, you're beautiful," he rasps, his eyes following the curves of my body as if he's truly looking at me for the first time.

Maybe it's the first time he's actually allowed himself to look because I've been nearly this naked in front of him before. That possibility makes my heart swell.

I've been told that I'm beautiful a thousand times. But hearing Gleb say it actually makes me feel beautiful.

His hands go to the zipper of his pants, and he pauses, giving me that penetrating gaze that feels like he's reading my very soul. "You're sure, Melody?"

Why does my name sound so much prettier when he says it?

I nod, wetting my suddenly dry lips as the oxygen seems to vanish from the room. And then his cock is out in the open, his marble-carved body of Paris on full display. Tingling anticipation races up my spine as he settles between my thighs, and I'm on the verge of hyperventilating as his lips claim mine once more.

His kisses are soft and soothing, his hand slow as it travels down my body. No one's ever explored me so gently before, and it's shockingly intimate. And arousing. His palm covers my breast entirely, pressing warmth into my skin and bringing me a strange sense of calm.

And when his hand glides further down the flat planes of my stomach to my hip bone, I rock beneath him, that throbbing heat building between my thighs once more. His fingers travel lower, finding the most intimate part of me. Legs trembling, I pant as they trace the seam of my folds, gliding across the sensitive flesh as gently as a feather.