Chapter 63 063

Chapter 63 063
Mikhail

"You need to move this forward."

Dimitri's voice was firm as he cornered me in his office Monday morning. A week had passed since that first dinner, and apparently my pace wasn't satisfactory.

"I've been spending time with her," I said carefully. "I have been getting to know her."

"That's not enough," He leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "Irina's father is expecting progression. He's not going to wait forever."

"It's been a week, Dimitri."

"And in that week, you haven't even kissed her," His eyes narrowed. "Why is that?"

Because the thought of kissing her makes me want to vomit. Because my body won't respond to anyone who isn't Natasha.

"I'm taking it slow. Being respectful." I said instead.

"There's been respectful and then there's been cold." He studied me. "She mentioned you seem distant and uninterested. That's not the impression we want to give."

"I'm not uninterested. I just—"

"She's perfect for you, Mikhail. She is strong, intelligent and beautiful. She is from an excellent bloodline. What more could you want?"

I want her to be someone else entirely.

"Nothing," I said. "She's everything you said."

"Then act like it," His tone sharpened. "I need this alliance. I need you mated and settled so I can focus on other matters. Spend the day with her. Take her somewhere private. Show her you're serious about this."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order.

"Understood." I said flatly.

"Good." He clapped my shoulder, a brotherly smile setting in his face. "She really is perfect for you. Once you get past whatever block you have, you'll see that."

I left his office feeling like I was walking to my execution.

I found Irina in the garden reading under a tree. She looked up when I approached, her face lighting up.

"Mikhail! I was hoping I would see you today."

"I thought we could spend some time together. Somewhere more private." I said, unable to put a smile on my face no matter how hard I tried.

Her smile turned knowing. "I'd like that."

I led her to one of the guest cottages on the edge of the property. They were small private residences kept for visiting dignitaries which was empty except for us.

The moment we were inside, Irina turned to face me, her eyes dark with intent.

"Finally," She murmured, stepping close. "I was beginning to think you weren't interested."

"I've been taking my time."

"I appreciate that, but we're both adults, Mikhail. We both know where this is heading," Her hands slid up my chest. "Why not enjoy getting there?"

She kissed me before I could respond.

Her lips were soft. She knew what she was doing, pressing her body against mine, her tongue seeking entrance to my mouth.

This was a woman who had kissed men before, who knew how to seduce and I felt absolutely nothing.

It felt like my body was rejecting her on some fundamental level, but I forced myself to kiss her back and to put my hands on her waist.

"Mmm," She hummed against my mouth, clearly pleased. Her hands moved to my shirt, starting to unbutton it. "I've wanted to touch you since the moment we met."

She pushed my shirt off my shoulders, her fingers trailing over my chest and my abs. They were appreciative touches meant to arouse, but I still felt nothing.

"You're so hot," She whispered, pressing kisses to my throat. "So strong."

Her hand moved lower, palming me through my pants, and that's when the panic set in, because nothing was happening. My body was completely unresponsive.

"Let me." She breathed, her fingers working at my belt.

"Wait." I caught her hand.

"It's alright," She smiled up at me, her eyes dark with desire. "I want this. I want you."

She freed me from my pants, her hand wrapping around my completely soft cock, and the humiliation was instant and crushing.

"Oh," Her confident smile faltered. "Are you nervous?"

"I—" I had no words. I had no explanation that wouldn't reveal everything.

"It's okay," She said, trying to recover. "Let me help you."

She dropped to her knees before I could stop her, and the sight of her there, beautiful, willing, trying to take me in her mouth should have done something.

It should have sparked some response. Instead, I felt sick to my stomach.

"Stop," I pulled back, tucking myself away quickly. "I can't do this. I’m sorry."

"Mikhail?" She stood and it was hard to miss the confusion and hurt in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just—" I grabbed my shirt. "This is too fast. I need more time."

"But we've had a week."

"I need more time." I repeated, buttoning my shirt with shaking hands.

"Are you sure it's not something else?" Her voice had an edge now. "Because if you're not interested, you should say so. I don't appreciate being strung along."

"I'm not stringing you along. I just need to go."

I left before she could say anything else and before I had to see the wounded pride in her eyes or explain why her touch did nothing while Natasha's mere presence set me on fire.

I barely remember walking to the main house. My mind was racing with panic and frustration.

This was worse than I thought. It wasn't just that I didn't want Irina. My body literally couldn't respond to her.

I couldn't fake it even when I tried, and if I couldn't perform with her, if I couldn't consummate a mating, Dimitri would know something was wrong. He would start asking questions I couldn't answer.

I needed Natasha. I needed to feel something right now. I needed to remember what it felt like to actually want someone.

I found her room and didn't knock. I just pushed inside and locked the door behind me.

She was on her bed, reading, and looked up in surprise. "Mikhail? What are you doing here?"

I crossed the room and pulled her up, crushing my mouth to hers.

"I need you," I growled against her lips. "I need you right now."

"What happened—"

"Don't talk," I spun her toward the door, pressing her against it. "Just let me have you."

My hands were already yanking up her skirt, tearing her panties down. She gasped, her palms flat against the wood as I freed my cock which was instantly and painfully hard for her.

"Mikhail?"

"Spread your legs," I commanded, my hand between her thighs, finding her already wet. "Fuck, you're always so ready for me."

"Always." She whispered breathlessly as her eyes fluttered with desire.

I thrust into her without preamble, burying myself to the hilt, and we both groaned.

This was right. This was what my body wanted, what it craved. Not Irina's practiced touches or seductive smiles. This. Natasha's tight heat, her little gasps and the way she pushed back against me.

"Mine," I growled, setting a brutal pace. "You're mine. Only mine."

"Yes…fuck, yes."

I fucked her hard against the door, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise, caiming her and proving something to myself.

My body knew who it wanted. No amount of pressure could change that.

"Tell me," I demanded, my teeth on her shoulder. "Tell me you're mine."

"Yours," She gasped. "Only yours, Mikhail."

"Damn right," I reached around, finding her clit and rubbing it roughly. "Come for me. Show me this pussy knows who it belongs to."

She came with a cry, her walls clenching around me so tight I saw stars. I followed immediately, spilling inside her with a guttural groan, marking her as mine in the most primal way.

We stayed like that, both breathing hard, my forehead pressed against the door beside hers.

"What happened?" She finally asked softly.

"Dimitri pushed me to move things forward with Irina. She wanted me to take her somewhere private and show her I was serious."

I felt her tense. "Did you—"

"I couldn't," I pulled out slowly, turning her to face me. "She tried to seduce me. She kissed me, touched me, got on her fucking knees for me, and I felt nothing. I couldn't even get hard."

Natasha's eyes widened. "What?"

"My body won't respond to her," I cupped her face. "It only wants you. It only responds to you. I've ruined myself for anyone else."

"Mikhail, if you can't perform with her, Dimitri will know something's wrong—"

"I know," I kissed her desperately. "I know, and I don't care. I can't fake this. I can't pretend to want her when every cell in my body is screaming for you."

She looked terrified and thrilled all at once. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," I pressed my forehead to hers. "But I know I can't mate her. I can't even touch her. You've completely fucking wrecked me for anyone else."

"Is that a bad thing?" She whispered.

"No," I kissed her again, softer this time. "It's the only good thing."

I carried her to the bed, laying her down and following. We were still half-dressed and disheveled from our desperate coupling against the door.

"Again," I said, settling between her thighs. "I need to feel you again."

This time I entered her slowly, savoring every inch. I watched her face as I filled her completely.

"This is what I want," I murmured, starting a slow, deep rhythm. "You. Just you."

She wrapped her legs around me, her hands in my hair, and we moved together like we were made for each other, because we were. My body knew it, even if the world refused to accept it.

"I love you." She breathed.

"I love you," I thrust deeper and harder. "I love you so much that I can't function without you."

We made love slowly this time, drawing it out and losing ourselves in each other. When we came, it was together in perfect synchronicity that proved what we already knew.

We were meant for each other. After, holding her against my chest, I said, "I'm going to tell Dimitri I can't mate Irina."

She tensed. "What?"

"I can't do this. I can't go through with it. If my body won't cooperate anyway, what's the point in pretending?"

"He'll want to know why."

"I'll figure something out. I’ll say we're incompatible, that I need more time, something," I stroked her hair. "But I'm done pretending. I’m done letting her think this is going somewhere."

"He'll be furious."

"Probably," I kissed her forehead. "But some things are worth his fury."

She looked up at me, hope and fear warring in her eyes. "What if he finds out about us?"

"Then we deal with it together."

It was reckless and possibly suicidal for my position, my standing in the pack, but I meant every word.

I was done living a lie. I was done trying to force something that would never work.

My heart belonged to Natasha. My body belonged to Natasha. My future belonged to Natasha.