Natasha
We barely made it to Mikhail’s room. The walk there was a blur of stolen kisses in empty hallways, his hands on my body and mine clutching his shirt.
Every few steps he would push me against a wall and kiss me until I couldn't breathe. Until I was whimpering against his mouth.
"Someone's going to see us." I gasped when he pressed me into a shadowed alcove, his mouth hot on my neck.
He didn’t seem to care as his teeth scraped my pulse point and I shuddered. Somehow we made it without being caught.
He pulled me into his room and locked the door behind us, and suddenly we were alone. There was no alcohol clouding our judgment this time. No excuses.
We stood there for a moment, breathing hard, looking at each other. This was different from that night in the tavern.
We were so
