The Petrov Proposal

by Maisey Yates

  Her heart was pounding so loud she was certain he could hear it. She knew what was smart. And she knew what she wanted. It was too bad they weren’t the same thing.

  She took a step toward him, and she knew. Knew that in doing that, she was saying yes.

  And then his mouth was on hers, his lips and tongue urgent, his body hot and hard against hers. She moved against him, feeling the hard ridge of his erection against her stomach. She felt an answering wetness between her thighs, her breasts heavy, needing his touch.

  Yes.

  This was honest. His response couldn’t be faked or concealed. He didn’t try to make it into more than it was by lighting candles and draping a red scarf over a lamp. This wasn’t some carefully plotted seduction. It was need. Beyond anything she’d felt before. It wasn’t about emotion, or love, or wanting something, someone, to fill the void inside of her heart.

  It wasn’t about escape. It wasn’t about the future. It was now and it was real. And it was the only thing that mattered.

  The masculine growl that escaped his lips as he teased her with his moist tongue was a sound of pure, sexual desire. And that was what she wanted. All she wanted.

  Physical, she could do. And she wanted physical with Aleksei. Yes, he was her boss, but there was nothing, nothing about him, that bore any resemblance to William Callahan.

  There were no lies between she and Aleksei. No promises either.

  Nothing but desire.

  She’d thought, been afraid, that being with a man again would put her back in that vulnerable, needy place. Well, she was needy, but not in the way she’d been scared she would be. She was only needy for his touch. For the feeling of his hard body inside of hers.

  But she also felt powerful. Felt like she had control. He was so hard against her there was no denying that he was on fire for her too, that he wanted what she did. That she was an equal partner.

  She ran her hands over his chest. He was built like a fantasy come to life. Hard, well-defined muscles, broad shoulders. And right now, he was hers to explore. And she wanted to embark on the journey so badly she was shaking with her desire.

  Excitement surged through her. She worked the buttons on the front of his shirt and pushed it down his arms, growling in frustration when the buttoned cuffs caught on his wrists. He chuckled and wrenched his mouth from hers, taking a moment to undo the buttons before shrugging his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor.

  She swallowed hard when she saw his bare chest. He looked better than he felt. Olive skin, perfectly defined, just the right amount of dark chest hair scattered over his pecs and continuing in a line down his abs until it disappeared beneath the waistband of his dark trousers.

  He looked at her, his eyes appraising. He was too calm. She needed him out of control.

  She approached him and put her hands on his belt, working the leather through the silver buckle before undoing the button on his pants. She kept her eyes trained on his. His jaw was clenched tight, muscles bunched.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she pressed her hand flat against his shaft, feeling the length of him. He was big. And it had been a long time. Briefly, she worried it might hurt. Her first time had been hellish that way, but then, she hadn’t really been all that aroused at the time. She’d simply been eager to please. None of that had been about her.

  Well, she was aroused now, beyond aroused. And this was about her. About taking something back that belonged to her. Her body. Her desire. Her right to want a man, and to act on that wanting.

  Hooking her fingers in the waistband of his pants and underwear, she slid them down his slim hips, revealing his whole body to her. Naked, fully aroused, he was the most incredible sight she’d ever seen.

  He was also a little bit intimidating.

  “I haven’t…been with anyone in a while,” she said, looking at his fully aroused body.

  “Then I’ll make sure you’re ready,” he said.

  And just like that her nerves, what little there had been, were taken care of. He would know what to do with a woman. She trusted that. Because Aleksei was a perfectionist, and he would make this perfect too.

  “Now you,” he said, putting his hands on the front of her blouse.

  She batted them away, replacing them with her own hands. She undid the first button, the second, the third, gratified by the hunger she saw etched into his sculpted face. She let her shirt join his on the floor before shimmying out of her pencil skirt. Then she was standing before him in nothing more than stockings, high heels and a very sheer lace bra and panty set.

  And she saw his control snap, the light in his eyes turning feral, just before all of the tension in his body released and he pulled her into his arms.

  He moved his hands from her hips, to her waist, up to the catch of her bra. He flicked it open with one deft motion and the lacy garment fell away. She wasn’t embarrassed for him to see her, not when it was obvious just how very much he was enjoying the sight.

  Those magic hands shifted slightly, his thumbs skimming her ribcage, brushing against the swell of her breasts. Her nipples tightened, almost painfully. Why didn’t he touch her there? She was dying for it. Needed it more than she needed air.

  Aleksei didn’t look away from her face, his dark eyes trained on hers. He didn’t reach straight for her breasts, didn’t grope or grab at her. Ironically, she wished he would.

  He only continued stroking her skin in maddening circles before encircling her waist with his arms and drawing her up against his hard body.

  He kissed her thoroughly, deeply, sensually, his tongue making thorough sweeps of her mouth. Her body shook, and she arched into him, her nipples brushing against his crisp chest hair. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

  She didn’t remember it being like this. She knew it hadn’t been like this before. This was…everything she was feeling, all of the pleasure, the aching hollow need in her body, it was almost too much. In the very best way.

  She moved against him, needing to stimulate the part of her body that was screaming loudest for his touch.

  His hand moved from her hip down to her thigh, the sensual slide pure torture in the best sense. Gripping her leg, he drew it up around his, opening her to him, bringing her clitoris up against his hardened shaft.

  “Yes,” she whispered into his mouth, moving against him, taking everything that she craved.

  “Yes,” he answered, backing her up until her legs hit the desk.

  Lifting her gently, he seated her on the polished surface. When he abandoned her lips, she felt dizzy, dazed. More than a little lightheaded.

  Aleksei knelt in front of her and slid his hands beneath her panties, drawing them down her stocking-clad legs, delicately removing them and casting them onto the floor. She was open to him now, exposed. And she still wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed.

  There was no room for that. Not now.

  That filled her with a different kind of exhilaration, one that was quickly overshadowed when he traced a line on her inner thigh with the tip of his tongue. She gritted her teeth. Oh, she had never felt anything like this before. Never experienced a rush of pleasure so divine. Her head fell back and she gripped the edge of the desk, hoping she didn’t fall.

  Rough, masculine hands moved to grip her thighs, to keep her from scooting away from him as he ran the flat of his tongue over that most sensitive part of her. She arched, tightening her hold on the edge of the desk. This was even better. Even more incredible.

  Never, ever had she experienced this before. She’d thought about it, dabbled in the odd fantasy about what it might be like, knew it had to be amazing…but she’d underestimated.

  Oh, she’d had no idea.

  Aleksei’s tongue was expert, and when he slid a finger into her tight passage she nearly flew into a million pieces. The addition of a second digit left her quivering, shaking, close to falling over the precipice she felt like she was on the edge of.

  He was merciless, his tongue and fingers moving in time
until she was pushed over the edge into oblivion. She let go of the edge of the desk and gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his back. She didn’t care. He didn’t seem to care.

  So that was what all the fuss was about.

  She felt weak. Spent. But still somehow unsatisfied. And she knew why. She still hadn’t had him inside of her. And it seemed absolutely critical for her to experience that.

  “Can you stand up?” he asked, voice husky.

  She nodded and stood from the desk. His hands were gentle, but firm, as he turned her so she was facing the desk and pressed slightly on her back. She put her hands flat on the polished surface. She’d never had sex in this position, but she was educated enough on the subject to know what he wanted.

  A shiver of excitement ran through her.

  She heard the sound of plastic tearing.

  “Condom,” he said.

  A rush of relief flooded her, because she would have forgotten. She’d been too caught up in the moment. She still was. It was hard for her to think clearly, not with the buzz of her first orgasm still lingering, and raging arousal still roaring through her.

  The blunt head of his erection probed at her slick entrance and she parted her legs further, trying to make sure she could accommodate him. He thrust into her slowly, painlessly, and she was grateful for that.

  Then he gripped her hips and began to move. His rhythm hard, steady, intoxicating. He reached his hand around to the front of her body and cupped her breast, squeezing her nipple lightly. She didn’t bother to hold back the moan that climbed her throat, didn’t bother to disguise any of her reactions to the pleasure that was rocketing through her.

  His hand moved to her clitoris, working in time with his thrusts. She grasped the edge of the desk again, needing something to hold her to earth as another climax started to build.

  When it hit her, this time he was with her, his grunt of completion mingling with hers. He placed his hand, palm down, next to hers, resting his head against her shoulder, his breathing ragged, his heart raging.

  “I have to move,” she said, her knees too weak to support her.

  He pulled back, out, and she collapsed into the nearest chair. Her head was spinning, her heart beating on overdrive.

  She’d had sex. She’d enjoyed it. The roof hadn’t caved in. No one had come in and shouted and called her a whore.

  It had even been her boss.

  There was no media.

  There was no guilt.

  For the first time in five years, her body felt like it belonged to her again. Everything, for so long, had been tied up in the man who had stolen what was left of her innocence. Had taken the last shred of her belief in humanity and used it against her.

  And because of him she’d locked her desires away, felt guilty for even looking twice at a man, because she felt she couldn’t even trust her own body.

  Not only had all of that been erased, she’d learned that there really was a lot more to sex than she knew. And she was glad for that. Her few experiences with William had left her disappointed.

  She’d wanted so desperately to please him, to be the woman for him. To be worthy of his love.

  Tonight, she’d pleased herself. And her lover looked pretty pleased too.

  Aleksei turned away from her, discreetly discarding the condom in a wastebasket before picking his pants up from the floor and jerking them on in one fast motion.

  She couldn’t move yet. She could only look at her clothes, scattered all over the office floor, and wonder what exactly she’d been transformed into in Aleksei’s arms.

  She looked down and realized she was still wearing her stay-up nylons and high heeled shoes. What a picture she must make. She waited, again, for the guilt. The shame. Nothing. She simply felt…satisfied. Very, very satisfied.

  “I…” she said, searching for words.

  “It wasn’t a good idea?” he asked, buckling his belt.

  “No, it really wasn’t. But it’s too late now.”

  “It was too late the moment we saw each other,” he said, a wry smile on his lips.

  “I think you’re probably right.” She scooted the chair forward and reached down, scooping up her bra and panties. “I don’t regret it.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because it’s a little late for regrets.”

  “But it was just sex,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  She sighed. “Good sex.”

  He grunted in agreement as he tugged his shirt on.

  “And it shouldn’t happen again,” she finished.

  His movements stilled. “Oh, no?”

  “No. We have to work together and now that we’ve…well, we’ve got it out of our systems it would be best to go back to work.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” It had to be. It had been amazing and at the moment she felt wonderfully, blessedly detached. She wasn’t risking that detachment.

  Of course, Aleksei had never promised love. Never promised a ring and a house and a family and everything she’d ever wanted.

  She didn’t want those things now anyway. They were an illusion. Love was only a mask for control. She didn’t believe in it now, didn’t want it.

  “Yeah, I think…it has to be over now.”

  He nodded. “I’ll let you dress.” He turned to walk out of the office, then paused. “I need you to come to the studio tomorrow. I have some things I need to show you so that we can come to a consensus on displays.”

  “Okay,” she said, still feeling unshakeable, unbreakable, in the aftermath of her new experience.

  “See you tomorrow.” Then he left. And she was alone.

  And suddenly she felt very, very alone.

  She cursed into the empty room and began to gather her clothes.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IT HAD been twelve hours since he’d been inside of Madeline’s body. Twelve hours and his body was still infused with a rush of post-orgasm adrenaline. She had been incredible. Gorgeous, eager, uninhibited.

  And she only wanted the one time.

  Usually, the promise of one time would settle well with him. He wasn’t looking for commitment, not even close. But another taste of the sweet oblivion being lost in Madeline’s body afforded? That he would gladly experience again.

  He glanced at his watch right when Madeline came bursting through the door of his studio.

  “You’re late,” he said, taking a long moment to admire her beauty.

  Her cheeks were flushed from the outside air, and from the run it looked like she’d taken to try and make it on time. Long, slender legs encased in dark, skinny jeans that hugged her hips. A stretchy cotton top with a scoop neckline that molded to her rounded breasts. Breasts he’d had in his hands twelve hours ago.

  He hadn’t taken the time to taste them, and now he regretted that.

  “Sorry…I overslept.” She looked down when she said it.

  “Didn’t sleep well last night?” He certainly hadn’t. His body had been hard and aching for round two.

  He’d forgotten how good sex was, as strange as it was to admit. Had forgotten the bliss of having nothing on his mind but his own pleasure and the pleasure of his partner. Now he was craving more. More of Madeline.

  “Come back this way,” he said.

  The studio was empty. Most of his designers opted to come in, borrow specific tools, and work from home. It was better that way. Too many artistic egos in one room quickly became chaotic.

  He opened the door to his workroom, a room he hadn’t been in in maybe two years before these past few weeks, and ushered her inside.

  “Do you have the necklace here?”

  The note of excitement in her voice was strangely gratifying. “In the safe.”

  He pressed his thumbprint to a pad in the wall, then keyed in a code that opened his personal safe. There was no such thing as being too careful when jewelry of the quality he worked with was involved.

  H
e took out a velvet box and opened it, watching Madeline’s eyes carefully. They widened, obvious approval evident in them. “It’s so beautiful, Aleksei.”

  She reached out, delicate fingers hovering over the gems.

  “Touch it if you like,” he said, aware his voice sounded rough.

  Her eyes met his and she lowered her fingers, caressing the emeralds in a reverent manner. One that made his blood pound hot and fast. He wanted her hands on him again.

  Last time had been hot and fast. Incredible. But he wanted more time. Time to savor her body, to thoroughly enjoy every inch of her lovely curves. Desk sex in his office had been amazing, hot, wild, but a soft bed was the preferred venue for good reasons.

  “Try it on,” he said.

  Her blue eyes flew to his. “Why?”

  “I want to see it. I have never put it on anyone before. Which means I have never really seen it.”

  She hesitated, her hand hovering over the box. “I…”

  “Let me.” He set the box on the desk and lifted the necklace from its satin casing. “Turn around,” he said, the echo from the day before sending all of his blood south, making him painfully hard.

  It was easy to see her in his mind as she’d been then. Her body stretched over the desk, the elegant line of her back, the indent of her small waist. The curve of her hip, her perfectly round butt. And those long legs, long even though she was petite, with those black stockings still on.

  She looked up at him and licked her lips, a glitter of wariness in her eyes. But she obeyed, turning slowly so that she was facing away from him. He lifted the necklace from its case and swept her thick curtain of dark hair aside, his thumb brushing the creamy, smooth skin of her neck.

  He’d had sex with her. The mystery should be solved, all questions answered. And yet so many lingered. Her reaction to the first climax he’d given her…it had been explosive, but more than that, she’d seemed shell-shocked. He wanted to know why. Wanted to know why it had been a while since she’d been with anyone.

  Mostly, he wanted to know what her pretty pink nipples tasted like.