Sinful Blaze (Chekhov Bratva Book 1)

I must have dozed off. There’s no sound coming from the bedroom, and most of the lights are off. I check my watch and suppress a groan.

There go hours of my life I’ll never get back.

I shuffle into the kitchen to get a glass of water. And shit, maybe a shot of something, I don’t know. I need to keep my head clear. At the same time, I need to do something to distract my thoughts from Daphne.

Good fucking luck, they whisper to me.

I’m on my way back to the living room when I hear a sound coming from the master bedroom. It could be nothing; she’s probably sound asleep.

But then I hear it again.

No one else is in here. No one else should be in here. Did she wake up?

I tiptoe closer to the bedroom door and freeze. There’s no mistaking that sound.

It’s a moan.

Her moan.

Oh, hell no.

I shove the door open with one hard push and brace myself for a fight. I don’t know with who, but whoever the fuck snuck past me is a dead man.

Except… there’s no one here. No one but Daphne, still in bed.

“Daphne?” I call out in a loud whisper. She doesn’t respond. I hear movements rustle the sheets, so I try again. “Daphne?”

The light spilling through the door is just enough to illuminate part of the bed. Enough to see the gentle rise of her body beneath the sheets. She doesn’t move, other than a sigh and a shift of her legs under the covers.

What the hell did I hear earlier?

There it is again. Daphne’s moan. Then Daphne’s sigh. Then another shift of Daphne’s legs.

“Pasha…” she murmurs.

The heat in my blood spikes. I creep into the bedroom, closer and closer to the bed, using what little light there is to try and make out the expressions on her sleeping face.

At this angle, I can see the covers bunched around her waist—and her hand down between her legs.

“Daphne…”

Her eyes remain closed, but she moans and shudders at the sound of her name on my lips. Her hand works that sweet spot more, but only enough to make her suck in another shivering gasp.

Oh. Fuck yes.

I’m not going anywhere.

I have no idea what will happen if she wakes up. But I don’t fucking care right now, because I want to know in exquisite detail what has her so hot and bothered—and then I want to make that come to life.

I bend toward her. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I breathe in her ear.

Her brow furrows, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to kiss the frown away.

“I… want…” Daphne mumbles in her sleep. “I… need…” She moans, louder this time, and those fingers work over her clit even more.

A wicked smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Me, don’t you? You want me?” At her slumped nod and roll of her hips, I keep going. “That’s it, baby. Take it. Be my good girl and take every fucking inch.”

Her legs kick the sheets down more. I can see her fingers dipping and massaging under her panties. I want to drag that damp fabric down, shove her hand aside, and wake her up by sliding right into her sweetness.

I pause and wait. My breath is caught in my throat, but Daphne’s ripples out of her in short, moaning bursts like crackling heat lightning. Her hand keeps going, but her eyes stay closed.

“Pasha…”

“I’m right here, baby.” My hand hovers over her face, then her breast. The urge to touch her is overwhelming. But I resist.

For now.

She turns her head to the side and my God, I could kiss her so easily. Right here, right now, without moving an inch.

But part of me still holds back. Part of me demands to maintain control.

I don’t know what’s happening in her dreams, but her fingers are going to town inside her panties. If it’s working in my favor, she’s dreaming about me taking her in every possible position until her toes curl and all she can think about is how fucking incredible it feels. How incredible I feel, around her and inside her.

The devil knows I dream about how she feels almost every night.

Her brow furrows deeper, and her whimpers pitch into frustrated whines. I could make it all better for her—better than better—but still, I hold back and croak hollow praise into the night.

“Come for me, moya plamya. Let it all out…”

I reach down and press my hand over hers. Instead of waking up or even stopping, she bucks up into the resistance and grinds against her own hand without any hesitation or hint of knowing. Can she feel me? Can she feel me hold her in place as she tumbles over the edge?

Daphne’s body shudders from head to toe, the waves of her orgasm rolling through her. Two of her fingers thrust inside her slit and work herself through new heights while her torso turns and she all but bites the pillow.

I’m ready to burst myself. The way her breasts strain against the fabric of her nightie, her hardened nipples begging for attention… The way her lips pucker and tremble the needier she gets, and the way her breathing staggers as she reaches the edge of release…

Most of all, the way she breathes my name in a plea for more.

That’s what brings me right to the edge.

I won’t tell her I was here. Just like she won’t tell me she was in the bathroom, watching me stroke myself as I daydreamed about her. But we may need to have a different sort of conversation eventually, if her dreams are any echo of her reality.

I slowly ease her limp hand from her slit and lift it to my mouth.

She tastes so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough; I have to suck each finger clean just to make sure nothing goes to waste.

We may have been keeping each other at arm’s length, and we might continue this dance in the morning. But the fact that we’re both hiding the same secret from each other confirms what the sickest parts of my brain have been hoping.

That this story isn’t over yet.

My erection is raging inside my sweatpants. Fucking hell, what I’d give to be able to relieve this between her creamy thighs and hear her moan for me while she’s wide awake and willing.

But instead, I silently make my way to the bathroom and wait until the door is closed to turn the light on. I can still taste her on my tongue; can still feel my body clenched up and ready to uncoil the very fucking second I allow myself to.

I have no idea how I’ll approach her in the morning.

For now, though? For now, I’ll come as hard as I’ve ever come before, then fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, with the sound of Daphne moaning my name still echoing in my ears.