Page 72 of Hate You Most

Dakota sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching as if she wasn’t sure whether she should pull away. But she didn't. She just let Viktoriya’s hand rest against hers.

“You don’t have to,” Viktoriya said softly. “Pretend, I mean. You don't have to pretend.”

Dakota closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”

“I don’t know what I am supposed to say anymore,” Viktoriya replied.

Dakota shifted closer—not touching, still—but the space between them narrowed until Viktoriya could feel the warm breath against her cheek.

“Viktoriya,” Dakota warned.

She tilted her head slightly. “Yes?”

“If we cross this line…” Dakota hesitated. “It’s not something we can undo or take back.”

Viktoriya saw the movement in her throat, the way her eyes moved longingly over her body. She wanted her.

Viktoriya’s chest tightened. “That is fine by me.”

“I don't want to ruin you. I don't want to make it all worse somehow… I don't want to—” Dakota's voice morphed into a whisper as she searched her face, as if she was asking for permission to kiss her. Dakota didn't need to ask.

Viktoriya moved closer. She couldn't help it—she needed this more than she needed anything else, she was sure of it. It was being reconnected to a missing part of her own soul. It was returning home.

The kiss started hesitant—their lips meeting like a question that neither of them dared answer out loud. Viktoriya felt Dakota freeze, then soften, the tension in her shoulders melting away as they kissed.

“I’m already ruined,” Viktoriya whispered into her ear as they broke apart. She knew there was no going back from this. She surrendered control.

The kiss wasn’t urgent and it wasn't desperate. It was slow, like her body had done this a million times before.

Viktoriya’s heart hammered in her chest, every fiber of her being was awake. Her body responded instantly. A warm pull low in her stomach that made her dizzy with how right it felt.

Dakota’s hand hovered near her waist like she was asking for permission without any words. Viktoriya nodded slowly, barely perceptible.

Dakota's hands wrapped firmly around her waist and moved her physically closer. So close their legs touched. A leg slid between Viktoriya's thighs. They intersected.

The kiss morphed into a desperate and insatiable hunger. They both clearly wanted this.

The sheets, the last barrier that could possibly stop this, was pushed to the floor.

Dakota kissed her lips and the side of her neck. She ran her hand down the length of her spine and then her hand slipped down the waistband of Viktoriya's plaid pajamas, and then further down. She was already wet when Dakota touched her. She had wanted this for so long and finally allowed herself to give in.

When they broke apart from the kiss, Viktoriya was breathing too fast, her head spinning and her body throbbing.

“Off,” Dakota said breathlessly. “your clothes.” Dakota's hand moved up, tugged near desperately at the waistband of her plaid pajamas.

Viktoriya did exactly as she was told, but it took too long, and her wife had no patience left. Dakota tugged harder and pulled the pajamas off her in one smooth motion, dropping them to the floor.

“Lift your arms,” she said. Viktoriya did as instructed. Her wife tugged at her loose T-shirt, pulling it over her head and throwing it away from the bed. There was only one problem with all of this. Dakota was still wearing her clothes.

She needed to fix this.

Viktoriya's hands moved to the side of Dakota's thighs and she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her dark pajama shorts. She tried pulling them off.

Dakota laughed softly, her breath warm. “You’re dangerous like this, Volkova.”

“I know,” she replied and tugged at the pajamas once more. They didn't move. “Lift your hips, please.”

Dakota lifted her hips up slightly, locked eyes with her. Viktoriya pulled her pajama shorts and underwear off her in one motion and threw them onto the floor.