Page 74 of Hate You Most

“You feel so good,” Viktoriya said, still completely unsure what language she was speaking. “You are all mine. Yes, all mine.”

Dakota only moaned her name in response, her head tilted permanently back in pleasure. Viktoriya could feel the way her rival's legs shook beneath her own thighs. The way they were both losing themselves to the sensation of pure pleasure. Together they settled into a steady rhythm and the last words Viktoriya managed to get out were simply: All mine.

Dakota hooked her hands around her hips and moved closer than Viktoriya ever thought was physically possible.

She couldn't stop kissing Dakota. Her lips, her ears, the side of her neck and her collarbone. She nearly choked between kisses, moving faster, kissing harder.

“I hate you,” Dakota forced out through one long whimper. Her legs were shaking beneath Viktoriya as she swayed.

“Hate you most,” she breathed out, losing her mind completely.

Viktoriya slowed as Dakota came undone beneath her. Her body seized as it gave in to the pleasure.

Sanchez buried her face against her shoulder, and for a moment all they did was listen to each other's uneven heartbeats. Viktoriya inhaled sharply, the sensation sparking something deep and familiar inside her.

This had happened before.

2017.

The hotel room smelled faint of chlorine and cheap soap as she closed the door behind her as quietly as possible. A competition in a city she couldn't name. The curtains were half-drawn and neon lights leaked in from somewhere below.

Dakota’s hands were warm on her skin as soon as the door closed. They were on borrowed time the moment the door clicked shut.

The American kissed the curve of her shoulder and collarbone. Her hands slipped behind her back and up the length of her spine. Soon her shirt was on the floor, along with her pants and Dakota's clothes.

This was her favorite part of competing, but she could never mention that to anyone. Her favorite part of figure skating wasn't the actual skating, or the fame or recognition. It was what she did in the shadows—behind closed doors and in private hotel rooms. It was her and it was Dakota and it was deep affection.

They moved as one toward the hotel bed. Dakota was all over her, like she couldn't handle even an inch of space between them. Viktoriya could hardly breathe properly, but she didn't care.

Her body was so warm, so welcomed against her bare skin. Viktoriya had to leave after they were finished—she could hardly stand the thought of it.

Her head tilted backward, her eyes closed against the mattress. Dakota trapped her between the temptation and desire.

Dakota’s forehead rested against hers, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.

“I miss you,” Dakota said, voice barely above a whisper. “All the time. Just… stay tonight. Please.”

Viktoriya’s chest tightened. She couldn't. There wasn't a place in this world where she could allow herself the freedom of staying. Her nation would have her exiled if they knew the truth of her nature and her thoughts.

“I can’t,” she said. Her hands trembled as they rested against Dakota’s shoulders.

“Why not?”

Viktoriya couldn't answer. She’d pulled away instead, heart pounding.

She wanted to pour her heart out to Dakota, but she couldn't risk it. If she verbalized how she wanted to stay, she would end up doing it—and she would face the consequences. As long as they stayed in this limbo—as long as they were nothing concrete, nothing that anyone could firmly grasp the idea of—then she would be fine.

Dakota was still talking, but she wasn't paying attention to a single word. She grabbed her clothes off the floor, zipped up her black pants and tried her hardest to avoid Dakota's eyes.

She was talking so softly, so quietly and Viktoriya knew it was probably important but she couldn't get her heart to pay attention. If it did, it would fracture.

She moved to the door and stopped just before opening it.

Dakota was still on the bed. Still naked, with tears in her eyes. Viktoriya realized then that Dakota wasn't just speaking softly—she was begging her to stay. Begging her to spend the night. She was begging, with tears in her eyes.

Viktoriya couldn't bring herself to move closer. She wanted to, but she couldn't. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob.

Another city would follow with another competition and they would continue exactly as they had been. Who won and who lost almost didn't matter, because after the medal ceremonies they got to spend a few uninterrupted hours together. Fighting for dominance with kisses.