He sighs. “Willow—”
I shake my head and cut him off. He needs to understand this. “You can talk all you want about your plans and your power, but until Pasha is in my arms again, I can’t have faith in anything.”
Leo sighs. His face falls, from that ever-present crackle of arrogant tension to something softer, more vulnerable, more malleable.
“Come here,” he says quietly.
I shake my head again. “I’m drowning, Leo. It’s crushing me. The worry, the guilt. I feel like I can’t breathe. But as long as I’m moving, then I can handle it. So I can’t stop. I have to keep moving.”
I try to walk past him, but Leo stops me. He grabs my face between his huge hands. “Stop for a second. Just stop.”
And I do.
But not because he told me to. The days of me accepting Leo’s orders at face value are over. I stop because there’s a catch in his voice that matches the softness in his eyes.
It isn’t a command. Not this time. It’s a request, made from one person to another based on respect. Based on affection. Maybe even based on love.
The warm glaze in his eyes bolsters me. It gives me something to hold onto, a life raft in the storm.
“All this worry…” he murmurs. “What will it change?”
“Not a damn thing. But I can’t help it.”
“Yes, kukolka, you can. You can’t control this situation, but you can control your reaction to it,” he says. “That’s your lesson for today. Be the master of your own mind.”
“Is that lesson supposed to distract me from the fact that your meeting with Belov is today?”
He smirks. “Don’t worry about Belov. I can more than hold my own.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
He lets go of my face, but doesn’t step back. “Then what are you worried about?”
“Will he bring Pasha?”
“Unlikely.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “What about Ariel?”
“She’s Brit now, Willow,” he reminds me. “We can’t give Belov even the slightest hint that she is not a hundred percent on his side. Even if she is there, I can’t ask her how Pasha is. She won’t be able to tell us anything. Not in his presence.”
“I just need to know that Pasha is okay,” I whisper desperately. “I wish I could come with you.”
His expression grows wary. I know he’s expecting me to try and convince him to take me. But I’m done with begging.
“It’s best this way,” he says instead. He steps back, then moves past me into the bedroom.
Now, it’s my turn to follow after him. I walk up behind him and trace my hand down the rippling muscles lining his back.
He flinches at my touch. Stiffens. Then he rotates slowly, letting my fingers trail over his skin until my palm is against his chest. I skim over the muscles there, the defined lines of his abs, the winding tattoos that snake over his skin.
“I’ve never asked you about your tattoos. What’s this one?”
“The sigil of the Solovevs,” he says, pointing to the dragon with the flaming eyes.
“And this one?” I point to a tall, thin tree that sits in the middle of his chest. Twisted branches stretch out in every direction, bare and forlorn.
“I got it right after Pavel’s death.”
It’s a lonely image. Even before I’d known who it was for, I sensed the sadness.
“It’s beautiful. Sad, but beautiful.”
Our eyes meet. Heat flares between us.
It seems to always be there, burning and growing despite our loss and grief. Sometimes, I think it feeds on those things.
The pain brings us closer together. Makes me crave the comfort only he can provide. And maybe it does something for him, too. Maybe, in some small but powerful way, I lighten his burden.
Right now, I can tell we both want that. Desperately.
“You make me want to do things I’ve never done before,” I whisper. It doesn’t sound like my voice or something I’d say. More like something out of a dream.
Leo smiles mysteriously. “What’s stopping you?”
My pussy is already thrumming with need and my body is slick with desire. I’ve been so tense with nerves that anything that can divert my attention is welcome.
But it’s more than that. I want him, too. And I’ve finally given myself permission to admit that out loud.
I lean in and run my tongue over his left pec. I graze over his nipple. As I slide my tongue down his stomach, I can sense his erection growing.
I get onto my knees in front of him and pull down his boxers. His cock hits me in the face, already half-hard. I lean forward and slip his tip into my mouth.
I’m in control for a few minutes before Leo reaches down and pulls my towel off. I shudder at the onslaught of cool air, but it doesn’t take long before the heat of my pleasure crowds out the chill.
Leo curses under his breath as I work his length. After a few more minutes, he pulls back gently and lifts me to my feet.
He kisses my neck and my chest while he walks me back towards the bed. Just as I reach the edge of the mattress, he spins me around and grips my hips.
I arch my back, giving him an invitation. He wastes no time accepting.
Leo slides into me, moving deeper inch by inch, so slowly I feel like it will never end. My body stretches around him, and I moan into the mattress.
He fucks me with slow thrusts that make me squirm, aching for me even as I feel like I can’t take another second of this beautiful torture. His fingers dig into my skin, pulling me against him to match his movements.
The build-up inside of me is steady, its heat doubling and coiling in on itself until I’m trembling with the need to unleash it. When I finally give in, I grab fistfuls of the blankets, trying to anchor myself to the earth, to this moment, to remember how it felt for everything to seem like it might be okay.
I cry out, and Leo runs a hand down my spine, soothing me as I lose control.
It rips through me like a wave of electricity. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. Rainbows dance past my closed eyelids.
I don’t know how long I lie there afterwards, limp and sated, until Leo rolls me over. I didn’t even realize he hasn’t come yet until he twists me around to face him. He climbs my body and positions himself right over my face.
Then he presses his cock between my lips until I open for him. I swallow him just as he shoots off inside my mouth and I feel him slide down my throat.
When we both have nothing left to give, he collapses onto the bed next to me and throws an arm over my torso.
“That… that was…”
“Just what we needed?” he suggests.
I smile. “Yes.”
He nods and sits back up.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I have work to do before we leave,” he says vaguely. “Why don’t you get some rest? After that, you’ll need it.”
I frown. “Is that what this was? You trying to exhaust me before the meeting?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Are we fighting again?” he teases mildly. “Because I can always pin you to another wall.”
“Just get out,” I snap, half serious and half joking.
“Are you still planning on going down to train?” he asks.