Page 8 of Pas de Trois
Chapter 2
Ezra
Lay me down and fuck me.
Anya demanded it and I was compelled to give it.
I hadn’t come after her with the intention to do this. I just wanted to make sure she was okay, maybe hold her, comfort her, put her to bed to rest while I went back to get all the answers we still need from Nikolai before he bleeds out and dies—or before I strangle him myself. But it’s impossible to be near Anya and not feel the chemistry—that natural draw to be closer to her—and it’s been so fucking long since I’ve seen her.
It feels like an urgent and necessary need.
I don’t know if her body can handle this right now. She nearly died tonight and had already seemed in such precarious health before Vigo trapped her in that fucking tub. Sex is probably the worst thing she can do to her body right now.
I know that.
But how can I deny her when she commands me so insistently?
She wouldn’t encourage it if she didn’t want it, though. I know that much is true. I refuse to be another man in her life who tells her what she can and can’t do. So, even though giving her what she wants might actually kill her from exhaustion alone, I’m not gonna deny her. I’m not gonna deny either of us when we both need this so much.
Moving one of my hands up between her shoulder blades, I step backward before turning us around. I fumble to slide open the small accordion-style door behind her back, but once it’s open, I rush straight to the almost queen-sized bed just beyond it. My knees hit the mattress and I bend forward, laying her down on her back and moving with her.
I can’t let go of her; I can’t move away.
Her fingers find my hair and she keeps our faces close as we both pant with need, heating the air between us with unsteady breath. My cheek rests against hers as I reach down between us to unbuckle my pants. I don’t get up until they’re unlatched, and when I do, I slip them off quickly, eagerly climbing back on top of her.
She doesn’t need words to tell me how much she needs me to fill her or how she needs me to make the empty feeling of being apart from each other go away. There’s a pause as I grab my cock and angle toward her, brushing the tip against her slick folds that beg me to push in deep. She gasps and moans as I let the pause linger, let it heat and catch on fire. There’s just breath between us—breath and the aching need to be lost in our love together.
I press delicate, sensual kisses to her cheek. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Her hips wiggle beneath my weight and it only makes me feel heavier, weighted down, like my body and hers need to fuse entirely for us to feel complete. When I finally push inside her—too desperate to drag out the anticipation any longer, too needy for foreplay—I sink in deep.
We both moan with sounds of pure satisfaction when we’re finally connected again. This isn’t just sex. And if I was honest, it was never just sex with Anya. It’s spiritual. It’s prayer. It’s fucking worship at the altar of our souls. I slip my arms around behind her back and move my hips slowly, with long, full strokes that reach deep inside her as I hold her close.
She moans through a long exhale as she grips my hair, angling my head to kiss me with parted, gasping lips. “I missed you, Ezra. I missed you.” Her lips find my ear. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you need this with me.”
“Anya…” I kiss her cheek, along her jawline, down her neck, but never stop moving inside her. “I was dying without you.”
She stays close to me, nuzzling her cheek against mine. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Say it again.” Her spread knees squeeze my hips and I thrust faster, with more force and depth, making sure she feels every inch of me.
“Christ,” I groan. “I’m yours.”
I drive my cock inside her, pushing deep. Each stroke feels like the strike of a match to my insides, heating me, setting me on fire, and I know the only way to put out the flame is to douse it in the wetness of her desire.
She pants beneath me, gasping for breath. “Please…please,” she whispers against my ear.
“Come for me, baby. Please. I need to feel it.” I angle my thrusts upward, faster, rubbing along her most sensitive spot until she squeezes her eyes shut, grasping my hips firmly between her knees.
“Oh…oh,” she whimpers and with two more thrusts, she explodes, her pussy pulsing around my cock as her stomach clenches and she coils around her center.
She’s still coming as her clenching climax drags me along with her. It takes me by surprise the way her pleasure links with mine, twisting around me and pulling me into orgasm. I spill deep inside her with a satisfied groan, the swell of my cock somehow dragging out her orgasm a few perfect seconds longer.
The tip of her nose brushes along my cheek as breath rushes in and out. I turn my head to kiss her with gentle lips and a languid tongue. She wraps her arms around me, holding me close as our bodies slow to stillness.
She opens her eyes and looks at me, catching me fully with her brightness. “I love you.” Her blue eyes are vibrant, sparkling, though I can see the exhaustion behind the luster of her love.
