I whimper, half-sobbing now, my hands flying from the sheets to grip his hair, desperate to guide him exactly where I need him.
He chuckles against my skin, a low, wicked sound that vibrates through my core. Finally, he lifts his head, mouth shiny and flushed with my arousal, his eyes dark are glittering with satisfaction as he presses a kiss to the soft curve of my stomach.
“I am just as eager to have you too,Milaya,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my skin.
And then he rises up over me, dragging his body along mine. I swear I feel every inch of him, every promise in the way he presses his mouth to mine like he’s sealing our fate.
I kiss him back with everything I have, tasting myself on his tongue and wantingmore.
My hand slips between us, seeking out the heat of him where it presses flush against my stomach. His length is already thick and hard, the tip slick with want. I wrap my fingers around him, glide my thumb along the swollen head, circling with slow, purposeful strokes.
He growls into my mouth, the sound vibrating against my lips. His teeth catch on my lower lip, biting down just enough to sting and pull a whimper from me.
But I don’t stop.
I push my hand lower, fingers wrapping around the base of him, and stroke upward in long, tight pulls. His hips respond before he does, instinct driving him to thrust into the cradle of my palm. He grinds into my hand, sliding the length of himself along the space between our bodies, slick skin dragging against mine in a motion that has my breath catching in my throat.
My core throbs at the rhythm, the pressure, the delicious torment of what Idon’thave yet.
What Ineed.
He breathes my name against my mouth like a curse, like a prayer. “Ivy…”
Suddenly, he pulls back.
One hand grips my thigh, shoving it farther apart as he settles between my legs again. His body presses flush against mine, chest to chest, and then I feel it—the heavy weight of him lining up against my entrance, his hips shifting until the thick head of him nudges at my folds.
A gasp tears from my throat. My hand flies up to his back, nails digging into the muscle there to anchor myself before I shatter.
Then he pushes in. The stretch is slow, almost unbearable. It’s been so long since I’ve had this.
My head snaps back against the pillow, a deep groan escaping me as he drives into me inch by inch. My walls flutter, tightening around him, drawing him deeper until there’s nowhere left for him to go, until I feel every last inch of him inside me, thick and pulsing andperfect.
He curses softly in Russian, the sound hoarse under his breath. His hips jerk slightly, his cock twitching inside me hard enough to make my hips rise to meet him.
I’m panting now, clutching at his shoulders, my thighs trembling on either side of him.
He pulls back just enough to make me feel the loss before plunging back in again, his rhythm deep and measured, determined to savor this. To take me apart piece by piece. Each thrust sends heat coiling low in my belly, my body stretching to accommodate the force of him.
The sound of our bodies meeting, the slick slide of skin on skin, fills the room with something carnal and raw.
My mouth finds his again, needy and uncoordinated. Heswallows my moans, kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping him alive.
He keeps moving, slow and devastatingly deep, every thrust is a promise and a possession. Carving his name into every inch of me, branding me from the inside out until there’s no space within me that isn’t his. My breath catches—no,stumbles—on a sob of pleasure as he rocks forward again, his hips grinding down to make sure I feel him to the hilt.
And I do. God, I do. I’m already teetering, and it only takes one more thrust, just one angled perfectly for everything to break.
My climax slams into me with brutal force, stealing the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my mind.
My back bows off the bed, my cry punching straight from my chest as the orgasm tears through me like wildfire. My body spasms beneath him, walls clenching down hard around his cock in wave after relentless wave. I can feel the wetness rush between my thighs, slick and obscene as it coats him.
He doesn’t stop or slow down.
He keeps driving into me, steady and unyielding, he’s chasing his own high through the wreckage of mine. His grip on my thighs tightens, holding me wide and open, completely exposed beneath him as he thrusts again, harder now.
He’s not just fucking me. He’s claiming me.
With every grind of his hips, every low growl that leaves his throat, every time he angles just right and hits that place deep inside me that makes my vision blur, he’s filling me up,making sure I’ll never forget what it feels like to be taken by him like this.