Chapter 187 188

Chapter 187 188
“That’s something your nephew drew and handed in. That sweet little boy upstairs is drawing all kinds of horrific things and you have no idea. And the man you just accused me of sleeping with? He was over here trying to blackmail into sleeping with him. I was trying to explain to him that he shouldn’t go to the cops because they’d come investigating.”

My words come out like venom, angry and violent. But I’m not even done yet.

“And even if I did want to fuck that guy—which I don’t—that wouldn’t be any of your business, because we’re nothing, remember? We’re not anything. I’m just the woman that looks after your nephew for you. Don’t accuse me of doing anything when God knows how many other women you’ve slept with this past week alone.”

Anger flares in his eyes. “I haven’t slept with anyone but you.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I laugh bitterly. “I bet there are a million and one girls out there that you’ve fucked and tossed aside just like me. Is that how you work, Matvei? You sleep with her one time and then treat her like she’s nothing? Throw her away and move onto the next—”

He grabs me by my shoulders and pulls me close, pressing his lips to mine hungrily. I can barely blink before my hands are laced through his hair and I’m backing him up against the fridge. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t stop it.

He breaks away only for a moment, tearing his shirt over his head. I expect to see wounds, but his body looks as perfect as it did the night we were together. I’m relieved, not only because it’s clear that he wasn’t the one injured in whatever situation he found himself in, but also for selfish reasons.

“You’re mine, Victoria,” he says to me in a hoarse whisper. “No one else gets to touch you.”

I start to reach a hand out to trace his abs, but he knocks my hand away and jerks me closer again, planting his lips on mine. There’s something about his dominance that makes me feel flustered, and with every brush of his tongue over mine, I grow wetter and wetter. He hoists me up onto the counter and I wrap my legs around his waist, keeping him from getting away from me.

For a moment, I worry that we might wake Nikolas, but he was far too tired after school. He’s going to be down for at least another hour.

Matvei pecks his way down my chin and the side of my neck, and a needy groan escapes my throat. I run my hands up and down his broad arms, feeling the muscles practically ripple beneath his tight body.

“Yes,” I whisper, grinding against him. The bulge in his pants grows harder, and I grind against him again, teasing.

When Matvei pulls away to kiss my lips again, his hands press on my shoulders. With a quick push, I’m flat on my back, the marble counter chilly against my skin. He tugs my shirt over my head, and I’m almost tempted to cover up. What if someone sees?

Then I remember who Matvei Morozov is. To him, it probably doesn’t matter who sees. He’s the man of the house. The one in charge of everyone and everything in this mansion. If he wants to fuck me on the counter in the kitchen during broad daylight, that’s his prerogative.

Matvei is in complete control. Saying it in my head spurs the burning desire between my legs even more.

He lowers his head and begins dragging his lips over my bare stomach, pausing to kiss around my belly button. Matvei inches lower and lower until he finds the button on my jeans. He undoes it and tugs them down to my ankles, leaving me barely covered by my bra and the thin fabric of my lacy panties.

When his lips graze over the front of my underwear, I gasp, propping myself up on my elbows. I try to get a better look, but his hand is on my chest again, pushing me down.

“No,” he says. I don’t even think about arguing with him.

His movements are slow at first. His tongue is precise, working its way over the folds of the fabric, wetting it even more. Satisfied, he pulls my panties down and returns to his position, tongue teasing me. I’ll never get used to the feeling of his tongue on me, and I cup my breasts in my hand, writhing as he explores me.

Matvei’s rugged, weathered fingers feel perfect against my clit, and as he laps away at me, his draws circles, massaging me, pulling the most desperate of cries from my lips. It takes everything in me not to lose it completely. I have to be quiet, so I don’t draw attention to us, but God if Matvei doesn’t make that a herculean task.

He’s an expert with his moves, and if I were standing, I’m sure he’d make my knees weak. He greedily works his tongue over me, again and again, before he presses inside. That small amount of stretching, combined with the relentless massaging, makes me gasp.

“Yes,” I shudder, clamping a hand over my mouth. “God, yes.” The moans don’t stop, and I don’t think I could stop them if I wanted to. It’s as if being with him like this makes me lose my mind entirely. I don’t think logically with Matvei Morozov between my legs.

Just as I’m about to reach my orgasm, he stops.

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. I could complain, but I don’t think that would get me very far. I sit up to look at him. He’s undoing the fly of his jeans. A brief second later, Matvei pulls himself from his pants.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, a dark look in his eye.

I nod. “Yes.”

“I want you to beg for it.”

“Please, Matvei,” I murmur, looking up at him through my lashes. “I need it. I need you.”

That seems to work like a charm, because he steps between my legs and grabs my hips, pulling me close and slowly filling me. He doesn’t stop until he’s completely sunk to the hilt, his body pressed to mine. I part my lips to moan, but before I can, he’s on me, kissing me as he works his hips. He pulls back far and then snaps forward, thrusting inside of me with a steady rhythm.

I try to keep up with him, rolling my hips in time with his, but just when I find the right speed, he switches it and tries to keep me on my toes. I let out a laugh, overcome with the feeling of pleasure and slight annoyance at his game.

“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips. How quickly he’s gone from pissed at me to desiring nothing more than being inside of me. I place my hand on the back of his head and kiss him deeply, brushing tongues and dragging mine over his teeth, greedy to feel every part of him.

He fucks me harder than before, fingers digging into my hips as he jerks forward and back. I can feel my orgasm swelling inside of me, but I don’t fight it anymore. I let Matvei have every part of me, every last bit of my pleasure, and when the wave crashes over me, I cry out into his mouth.

“That’s it,” he growls, snapping forward even harder than before. “Come for me, Victoria.”

And I do. I feel lightheaded from the intensity, but I cling to him, riding out the head high. Just as I come down, he grabs my ass and lifts me from the counter. Matvei lifts me with strength I didn’t know he had, pumping me up and down on him, burying himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he cries, and his hips move erratically. I can feel him inside, finishing off, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding tight. His face is red and he looks worn out when he lays me back on the counter, but he’s never looked more handsome.

Slowly, Matvei leans down. He doesn’t pull out or storm off like last time. He remains still for a moment. Then he kisses me.

Somehow, despite everything we just did, that feels like the most intimate thing yet.