Until the End

by London Miller

  “Ya tebya lyublyu slishkom—I love you too.”

  It was his turn to smile. Her pronunciation was only a touch off, letting him know she had practiced saying it correctly.

  He felt whole for once in his life and he would kill anyone who tried to take this away from him.

  Lauren sifted her fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands. The palm of his hand was resting against the curve of her hip. In the silence of the room, the vibrations from his cell phone were loud.

  But neither of them paid it any mind.

  All morning, they lazed in bed, just enjoying the peace and quiet together. She even noticed the difference in him when it was just the two of them.

  Here, he let his guard down, allowing her to see the man beneath the surface.

  “You would hate Russia,” Mishca was saying, idly stroking her hair, letting the strands fall between his fingers. “The cold would be unbearable.”

  And they both knew how much she hated the cold. “Maybe we could plan a trip to like Spain or the Caribbean. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “I could take you there tomorrow if you wanted,” he commented thoughtfully.

  Lauren never really discussed money with Mishca since they’d gotten back together. She had never bothered to ask how much money he had, not that she cared, but she also wanted to do things with him as opposed to him always footing the bill.

  She knew they would never be equal, unless she won the lottery or something, but as long as she wasn’t a ‘kept’ woman, she was okay with that.

  “How about spring break next semester?” That would give her enough time to save for the trip.

  “I’ll set it up.”

  She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “What do you want to do today?”

  “Stay here.”

  “In the room, you mean?” She asked searching his face.

  “You’re all I need.”

  And he was all she needed.

  Mishca had ventured out sometime earlier, promising to be back shortly, but it had been a little over half an hour. Her first thought had been to be upset, thinking he might have been contacting Vlad or one of the others, but she understood that there might have been an emergency.

  Alone, she’d undressed heading into the steam room, pouring water over the heated rocks, steam filling the room. Imitation tea light candles were placed in intervals along the benches, making the room glow.

  Folding her legs beneath her, she closed her eyes, relaxing back. In the short time they had been together, she felt closer to him than the entire time they’d spent together previously.

  Perhaps it was because there were no longer any secrets between them and now it felt like they could be honest with each other.

  Of course he didn’t tell her everything, she noticed the way he carefully chose his words, but he shared more each day and she appreciated his effort.

  More importantly, she wanted to take their relationship to the next level. He never pressured her to do anything more than she was willing, but she did want more, she just didn’t know how to go about it.

  But that was the reason she brought him here, to experience it with him alone without worry that someone might interrupt.

  A blur moved outside the sauna door, a distinctive shape. “How long have you been in there?”

  She smiled, pleased to hear his voice. “Not too long. Where’ve you been?”

  “Can I come in?”

  She sat up on the bench, her question forgotten. Holding onto the front of her towel where it was tucked beneath her breasts, she looked at the frosted glass, where his hands were pressed against the door as he awaited her answer.

  It was now or never.

  “Yea.”

  She watched him as best she could as he stripped out of his clothes, grabbing one of the towels from the counter. When he opened the door, steam billowed out, cool air briefly blowing through the room before they were enclosed together.

  Even as he studied her, she studied him like it was the first time all over again. She remembered what he’d told her about his tattoos, but she had learned their true meaning later.

  Twin eight-point stars were inked on either side of his chest, just below his collarbone, a sign of his station. As a Captain, he was rewarded those stars, the only thing she didn’t know was what he had done to gain them.

  On both shoulders were epaulettes, similar to those found on the uniforms of Russian armed forces. They signified the same as his stars.

  On his left arm was a rising sun, a mark for freedom, and this was the only one she didn’t doubt had another meaning. He’d told her it was for his mother and maybe it was a sign that she was free from his father. She had never asked.

  Above that, written along his forearm was a line of script. A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi, Latin for ‘A precipice in front, wolves behind.’ His family motto for their surname.

  All of his tattoos only enhanced his physique, highlighting his masculinity. Mishca only did mixed martial arts at a gym, but he had to do it often to stay in the shape he was in.

  The towel he wore hung low on his waist, revealing the sharp V, a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the material.

  He was incredible, simply put.

  She could only wonder what he saw when he looked at her.

  Mishca didn’t sit beside her on the bench, choosing to sit across from her instead, his legs spread out before him as though he had not a care in the world, but the towel hid most of him from view.

  The intensity of his gaze made her feel alive, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t look away.

  It wasn’t just lust that heated the air around them--not even the rocks--it was something more, something greater than she could attach a name to. For a little more than a year, they had managed to stop just before they’d gone all the way, reasons unknown to her, but she doubted there would be any stopping now.

  Lauren realized she’d still been clutching her towel--his eyes focused on it--and as she pried her fingers free, she loosened the towel as well. She hoped he wouldn’t deny what she wanted again, she didn’t think she could bear it.

  But before they got to that point, she wanted to do something for him first.

  Standing, she let the towel fall, almost smiling as his tongue swiped out to wet his bottom lip. She was mesmerized by the captivated look in his eye as he drank her in, but she couldn’t be distracted by that.

  When she was close enough to touch him, she started with his shoulders, trailing her fingers along his skin, doing the same thing to him as he always did to her. She could understand why he did it, feeling the change overcome him, the muscles clenching beneath her touch.

  As she drifted lower, she slowly went down to her knees, causing Mishca to blow out a breath as he watched her curiously, waiting to see where she would take this, but he didn’t have to wonder long as her hands stopped on his towel. She met his eyes only briefly, just to be sure this was okay before she tugged it loose, pulling the two halves apart.

  He was already hard, no doubt from the show she had just put on, and with that image, she met his eyes and said, “I want to try it.”

  If the dark curse he muttered in Russian was anything to go by, he knew exactly what she way saying, and from the look of anticipation glowing in his eyes, he was all for the idea.

  “I don’t…I want to know what you like,” she said breathlessly as he sat up.

  After shoving his hands through his hair, pushing the damp strands back out of his face, he reached for her hand, drawing her closer a few more inches.

  He gave a single definitive nod, acknowledging what she had said to him, then easily wrapped her fingers around the base of his penis. She remembered this much from their last time together, how to hold him just a little bit tighter than she normally would have. He hissed in a breath, making her relax her hold, but he quickly let her know that she had been doing it correctly.

  She thought of the
flicks she had watched in preparation for this, but in the moment, every tip she thought to remember was forgotten.

  Staring down at it, she tried not to psyche herself out, knowing that it couldn’t be as difficult as she thought it would be. The fundamentals were simple enough, but she didn’t want to disappoint him.

  Not wasting another second--or her nerves had gotten the better of her--she tentatively leaned forwards and took him into her mouth, just the head, enough to elicit a reaction out of him, one that sent a shiver down her spine.

  He was on edge, his thighs taut, his hands resting on either side of them, his knuckles blanched from the force. When she took a bit more, he cursed again, this time in English, a long drawn out word that let her know he was enjoying this as much as she was.

  Starting a slow rhythm, she carefully went about it, not daring to take too much in case she choked. His hands drifted from their positions on the bench to her hair, his fingers gliding through the strands before fisting.

  She lost herself in it, enjoying the fact that she was pleasing him, more pleased with his reactions. The further she went down on him, his hands would tighten reflexively before going slack when she hollowed her cheeks. When she slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly, moved her fist in the same movement as her mouth, he groaned a harsh, broken sound that turned her on more than she ever thought possible.

  Just as she was getting into it, however, Mishca was being rather careful with her. Even in this, as he was normally, he was in complete control.

  She wanted to break that. She wanted to see him unrestrained.

  Inspired Lauren did everything she could think of to illicit a bigger and greater reaction out of him...and that’s what she got. When she thought to tease him, swirling her tongue around the smooth underside, he said her name, almost like a prayer, and the power she wielded in that moment was heady.

  It seemed, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  He tugged on her hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention, pulling her up from her knees and onto his lap in one smooth movement.

  His mouth slammed down on hers, stealing her breath away as his hands drifted down to her butt, squeezing possessively. If she had any doubt that he’d enjoyed what she had done, he had no quelled them.

  That control she thought she had, he took that as well, but she loved this side of him.

  “Lauren?”

  It was enough, just her name said in his gravelly tone that let her know it was about to happen, but there was still a question in his voice, as though he needed confirmation from her before he started.

  “Yes.”

  Hauling her up, he carried her into their bedroom without breaking his stride. Now, Lauren could see what he had been doing earlier.

  There was a cart near the foot of the bed, filled with silver covered trays. She wondered what might have been in them, but she was too captivated with Mishca to care.

  He dropped her onto the bed, quickly following her down as he began kissing his way down her body at an almost feverish pace.

  He sucked a taut nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue around it, coaxing a moan out of her as she reached for him, needing to feel him.

  By the time he got to her splayed legs, she was panting and he had slowed down, his attention on her becoming more reverent as he approached the one place she desperately wanted him to be.

  Now, she was the one squirming beneath his onslaught, trying to get him where she wanted though he purposefully avoided it, nipping at her inner thighs instead. But when she thought he meant to torture her further, he surprised her by setting in immediately, his tongue delving into her folds with unmasked hunger.

  “Oh God, Mish.”

  The words burst from her without her actually meaning to say them, but he only took that as encouragement. His hands came to rest on her thighs, keeping them open as he forced her to accept what he was doing to her.

  He pulled back, just long enough to say, “Keep your legs open,” before he set in again, this time, adding his hand to the mix. Carefully, he eased a finger inside her, working it back and forth before he added another, stretching her.

  The sounds coming out of her were embarrassingly loud, her moans echoing in the room.

  As she was sure she would cum like this, he pulled his fingers free and climbed completely off the bed, leaving her in the middle looking after him. Like any girl, she’d thought about how she would lose her virginity, who it would be with, but she never thought it would be with someone like Mishca.

  It was a strange fear she felt as he tore open the condom wrapper, making a show of rolling it on, an act that had her squeezing her thighs together wanting to relieve the pressure. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone in her life.

  Returning, she no longer saw the desperation in his eyes that she’d seen when they were in the shower. Now, he was back in control. Grabbing hold of her ankles, he pulled her towards him until she was just at the edge of the bed.

  His hands slide up her calves, the back of her knees, spreading her legs as he went. He stared at her face rather than her body, as though her reactions to what he was doing was more important, but his touch did all the seeing for him.

  When she was positioned as he wanted, he loomed over her on straightened arms, the hard length of him pressed against her.

  She thought to look down, wanting to watch him put it in, but he cupped the side of her face, forcing her attention back on him.

  “Look at me,” he whispered, his voice raspy and deep.

  She felt rather than saw him move and his hand drifted down the center of her body until he fisted himself, slowly rubbing up and down until he was poised at her entrance.

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

  With only the slightest movements of his hips, he was inside her. Just the head, but enough to make her cry out in surprise, but she couldn’t focus too much on that for his hands were everywhere at once.

  First it was just the gentle swipe of his thumb over her cheek, then he was cupping her breasts, his breathless whispers in her ear making her arch up against him, sliding him in deeper.

  She was too busy focusing on what he was doing to her to grasp what he was murmuring in her ear, his words like a physical caress. He wasn’t shy about his appreciation for her body , but even more, his words made the ache between her legs grow though he was already inside her.

  “More?” He asked with an amused smile though it did look a bit strained.

  Words failed her. The only thing she could do was nod.

  He grabbed hold of one of her legs, pulling it higher around his waist. The new position allowed him better depth, but it also brought pain. Her hands flew to his hips, forcing him to stop as she trembled beneath him.

  “I know,” he said capturing her wrists in one hand, pulling them over her head, pressing them back against the bed.

  She didn’t know if she could take much more. He felt…too big, like he wouldn’t be able to fit entirely inside her.

  “Mish--” She thought to tell him to stop, the pain almost too great, but as he eased back out of her, then back in again, while it still didn’t feel amazing, there was just a slight feeling of something.

  “Do you trust me?” He asked, his blue eyes unmoving.

  “Yes,” she answered, without a doubt in her mind.

  He pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, then bit down gently on the cord there, his hips moving in earnest now.

  “Say it again.”

  “Yes.”

  As quickly as the pain began, it started to dwindle away, replaced with an indescribable feeling that had her pulling her hands free, wrapping them around him, drawing him closer.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist as he tilted her up, putting them flush against one another. Gasping his name, she felt his hands flex on her thighs in response to her.

  If there was a happy medium between gentle and rough, Mishca was best at it. After just easing in and out inside of her, gi
ving her the opportunity to get used to his size, he slipped an arm beneath her, pulling her up and practically holding her weight as he pressed her back against the headboard.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning as best she could what he was giving to her.

  Words failed them both and opportunities for revelations eluded them both, but in this moment, they conveyed their feelings, their passion for one another.

  The sound of their heavy breathing was loud in the room and no matter how Lauren wrapped her legs around his waist, she couldn’t get close enough to him.

  When he was as deep as he could get, he groaned, dropping his head to the crook of her neck. She could practically feel it in him, the restraint he was using with her as he waited for her body to grow used to his size.

  Pressing feather light kisses along her neck, he finally took her mouth, the gentleness slowly bleeding away to something much different, not that he was only thinking of himself. Without breaking their kiss, he reached between them, using his thumb to rub her intimately, loosening the constrictive hold she had on him with her thighs.

  Mishca didn’t stop, not even as he pulled his hips back, slowly sinking back inside her again. He didn’t stop even as she gasped against his mouth, his lips curling in satisfaction at her reaction.

  At first she hadn’t understood how anyone could enjoy sex, but now as he expertly moved inside her, she understood perfectly.

  “Please…”

  Her plea was enough for him to understand what she needed and he willingly gave it to her, cursing in Russian as she went tight around him. He could feel it, that tingling sensation creeping through his body as he tried to last, but when she said his name, softly, almost like a prayer, he was done.

  Mishca shuddered as he came, still managing to hold his weight on his arms. He looked down at her with so much love and adoration shining in his eyes that she couldn’t help smiling back, though she was embarrassed that her legs were still trembling.

  “Give me a minute, love.” He kissed her forehead, pulling out of her gingerly as he headed into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.