Moonlit Enchantment

Chapter Twenty Three

Laughter still echoed off the walls when he backed her into the bedroom, the charged air thick between them, shimmering with want and something softer, something tethered to moments before when barriers had fallen. Her silver hair spilled wild and luminous over her flushed cheeks, catching the light in a way that made her seem almost otherworldly—like a goddess who had wandered down from the stars just to be his.

Her lips were kiss-bruised and parted in a teasing grin that made his heart thunder. Dmitri caught her firmly by the hips and spun her around with a strength that was both careful and hungry, lowering her onto the bed with a tenderness that belied the fire burning in his eyes.

She gazed up at him, mischief and something rawer flickering in her gaze. “You’re staring,” she breathed, voice rough with desire.

He didn’t bother to hide it. “You’re perfect,” he growled, eyes darkening as they roamed over her like a man marking his prize. “But you’re wearing too much.”

No hesitation. No waiting for permission—though he felt it in the way her back arched toward him, in the catch of her breath as his finger traced the collar of her blouse. One by one, the buttons slipped open beneath his touch, revealing warm skin, the delicate lace of her bra, the rise and fall of her chest beneath the fabric.

The blouse slid free, pooling at her sides, and Dmitri tossed it aside carelessly. Lowering himself onto his knees beside the bed, he undid the clasp of her skirt, the smooth material sliding down her legs. His lips followed, planting soft, reverent kisses from her knee to the sensitive hollow of her inner thigh—deliberately stopping just shy of the lace concealing her most intimate place.

He inhaled her scent—sweet and earthy, laced with the subtle tang of arousal—and exhaled a breath that trembled with need.

Sabrina pushed up onto her elbows, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “You planning to worship me all night?”

A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth. “Yes. All night.”

He leaned in, pressing kisses over the dampening fabric of her panties. She gasped, hips lifting slightly as if pulling him closer without effort.

His hands moved with deliberate slowness, peeling the lace down her legs as though savoring every inch. Then he spread her thighs apart, settling between them, licking his lips like a man starved of something far more essential than food.

And then his mouth was on her.

Her fingers clenched tight in the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as his tongue slid between her folds, slow and steady, tracing circles around her c**t before flicking over it in a rhythm that sent shivers racing up her spine. Her hips bucked against him, desperate for more.

“f**k—Dmitri—” she gasped, her hand tangling in his thick hair.

A low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating against her. He didn’t pause or rush; instead, he deepened his ministrations. One hand stayed firm on her thigh, steadying her, while the other slid upward, fingers teasing, stroking, coaxing her toward the edge.

When he finally pushed two fingers inside, curling them just right, her whole body trembled, as if she might shatter from the intensity.

She twisted beneath him, gasping, legs trembling. Her release hit her hard and fast, clenched tightly around his fingers, while his tongue continued to circle and flick with relentless precision.

He kissed his way up her stomach, leaving a wet, burning trail of heat, and claimed her mouth with lips still slick from their shared desire. She tasted herself there and whimpered, arms curling around his neck, holding him close like a lifeline.

The softness of her touch, the weight of her body pressed against his, made his chest tighten with something fiercer than lust—something he hadn’t dared name before now. Desire had brought them here, but love was the current pulsing just beneath the surface.

“Your turn,” she whispered against his mouth, voice rough and breathless, flipping them with a fluid motion that left him beneath her.

He chuckled low in his throat, voice ragged and thick with need. “Goddess help me, you’re going to kill me.”

She straddled his hips, the weight of her pressing delicious and heavy, nails trailing lightly down the planes of his chest. His need pooled between them, thick and urgent, leaking desire with every breath.

Taking him in her hand, she stroked slowly, watching the flicker of pleasure twist his face in a way that made her heart stutter.

“Look at you,” she murmured, leaning down to lick a bead of eagerness from his tip. He growled, the sound deep and ragged.

Then she took him into her mouth, slow and sure, lips stretching wide as her tongue swirled beneath him. His hands gripped her hair—not forcing, just grounding himself, his voice a breathless mix of curses and praise.

“f**k, you feel—Gods—Sabrina—”

She moaned around him, feeling him twitch beneath her, close and raw. When she sensed him near the edge, she pulled back, lips swollen and slick, then kissed a trail up his stomach, each kiss a promise.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Before he could respond, her hand slipped between them, guiding him carefully to her entrance.

“You sure?” he asked, breath ragged and heavy.

She answered only by sinking down onto him, the heat and fullness pulling a gasp from both of them.

He filled her completely, thick and deep, a steady weight that grounded her. She rocked her hips slowly, adjusting to the perfect fit, then began to move—each grind measured, deliberate, delicious friction that sent ripples of pleasure through them both. Her hands tangled in his hair; his hands found her hips, gripping as if to anchor them through the storm building between them.

She rode him like a storm building—slow at first, then faster, hips snapping in time with ragged breaths, her chest rising and falling as he met every thrust from below with growing hunger.

“Look at me,” he growled, voice dark and demanding.

Their eyes locked, fierce and unyielding, as she f****d him with abandon, every motion stripped bare of everything but raw, urgent need. Nothing else existed beyond the sweat-slicked skin, the sounds of bodies colliding, and the relentless rhythm building too fast, too hard to control.

Suddenly, he sat up, wrapping his arms around her and sinking his teeth into a n****e. She cried out, nails digging into his back as he bit down just hard enough to make her clench tighter around him.

“Oh gods—don’t stop—”

“I won’t.” His voice was gravel, low and fierce. “Come again for me. I want to feel you.”

His hand slid between them, rubbing her c**t with fast, expert strokes. Her head fell back, breath hitching as she shattered again, body trembling and clenching so tight he groaned her name like a prayer.

Without breaking the rhythm, he flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hips back, and thrust into her in one smooth, powerful motion. She screamed into the pillow, overwhelmed by the fullness, the heat, the pounding pace.

He f****d her hard—deep, claiming each thrust with possessive force that left her shaking and breathless. His hands gripped her hips like lifelines, fingers digging into flesh. He leaned close, breath hot against her shoulder, one hand slipping beneath her to circle her c**t again, driving her higher.

She sobbed his name, her voice breaking with need.

“Again,” he demanded, voice rough.

She came with a desperate wail, vision going white, body seizing beneath him.

He cursed, losing control completely, and followed her over the edge, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside her.

They collapsed together, tangled and slick with sweat and something far more primal. His arms circled her tight, holding her close like a shield, keeping her from drifting away into the quiet aftermath.

Her breathing slowly evened as she pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the slow, steady pounding of his heart beneath her ear. She felt utterly safe here, wrapped in the warmth of him, the steady heat of their joined bodies.

“That was…” she murmured, voice soft and breathless, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine. “You undo me.”

She reached up, fingertips grazing the scar along his brow with reverence, a tender connection passing between them in that quiet touch.

He tilted his neck, resting his forehead against hers, the world narrowing to the warmth of skin against skin, breath mingling, and the slow, sure rhythm of two hearts learning to beat as one.

“I love you, Sabrina.”

Her answer was immediate, certain—a tether strong enough to hold them through anything. “I love you too.”

And in the hush that followed, wrapped in each other’s arms, the noisy world beyond faded to silence, leaving only the quiet beat of love, steady and true.