I Am Mustafin

| 17 | - My Gratitude

I breathe in deeply, the corners of my lips curling into a small smile as I admire the delicious scent of the mahogany coconut cologne.

Where am I?

My eyes flutter open and it dawns on me: I'm still in his arms. My heart skips a beat, my breath catching in my lungs.

Shit. Shit. Shit. What should I do?

I try to keep my breathing steady, not wanting him to know that I'm wide awake as I have no idea what I'm going to do or what I'm going to say.

Why did he save me?

I can't figure it out and I want to pretend that I don't care for it, but the fact of the matter is that I do care. I know that I couldn't have been easy on him, deliberately not listening to what he distinctively told me not to do.

Am I to apologize? If I do, will it make a difference? Will I be punished for this?

It turns out that I really don't know anything. Isaak was right and so was Tavin, Matvey, Konstantin, and everyone who told me that I should just fucking listen. Because if I did listen, I wouldn't be here.

Although...here is...nice.

He's so warm...

I have to admit, I oddly feel safe in his arms. Maybe it's because he's probably the most muscular man I've ever laid this close to. Or maybe it's that above his physical being, he's one of the most powerful men in the world.

He's...godly.

It's hard to ignore it, but my body betrays me, and I feel something that I haven't felt in a very long time: lust.

I draw my lip between my teeth, biting it gently as I exhale a shaky breath. There's a warmth at the pit of my stomach, an undeniable desire playing between my legs.

Please...not him. It can't be for him.

I try to distract myself, forcing myself to look at anything but the tight split between his muscular chest, emphasizing his large pecs. My eyes lift, catching the beautiful silver chandelier on the ceiling before falling to the rest of the room, taking it all in.

I've never been in this room before, but I safely assume it's his as I glance at the open, large jewelry box sitting on top of the charcoal gray dresser with the obvious empty ring space. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the big flashy thing, nicely hugging Efrem's ring finger as his hand rests on my shoulder. There's an "M" on it, the pattern drawn perfectly with shiny black diamonds.

Unique.

How much bigger his room is than my own doesn't surprise me; however, how much nicer it is, does. I didn't think it could get nicer than mine.

My eyes gaze over the beautiful charcoal gray suede sofa at the far end of the room with silver decorative square pillows, shifting to the matching charcoal carpet that covers every inch of the bedroom floor. The light gray walls compliment the furniture and drapes, compatible with the large frame of the king-size bed we lay on.

I should say something...maybe. But what do I say?!

My throat still aches and I'm almost certain that my voice is hoarse, but as I spiral for a few more minutes, all I can think of to break the awkwardness that probably only I feel is, "I'm warm now." It came out lower and softer than I would've liked, almost like a whisper, and I instantly feel my cheeks burn a bright red in embarrassment.

I don't have time to worry about how I'm feeling as within the next second, Efrem relinquishes his hold on me and pulls away from me, rolling off of the bed. I don't waste a second either, quickly sitting up and forcing my sights down to the blanket as I pretend that I'm not watching him put his clothes on.