Page 79 of The Russian's Stalked Bride
“You’re killing me here.”
“That’s the point,” I hum, enjoying this more than I should.
Slightly more petulant than he ever normally allows himself to get, he averts his gaze, looking vaguely embarrassed.For someone like him, it’s unexpectedly endearing. “I wouldn’t do this to you.”
My grin stretches just long enough for me to savor the moment, but as Ivan shuffles his hips a bit closer in a needy gesture, I rest my hands on his thighs and look up at him. “You could always say please.”
When his eyes flick back to mine, I catch the moment of contemplation moving through him, caught between his pride and throwing it all away.
Finally, Ivan takes a breath and softens his gaze, letting the more eager side of him take over. “Please, Mila.”
“Please, what?”
“Please touch me,” he murmurs, straining from the lack of friction now.
As much as I enjoy seeing him like this, the raw plea in his gaze undoes me, pulling at my heartstrings. Not to mention, the quiet surrender does something to me.
Damn him for knowing what angles to play.
Feeling at least a little bad for him, given how aggravated his erection seems now, I lean forward, using my tongue instead of my hand.
At the initial contact, Ivan’s breath hitches again as he locks up instinctively. Then he shudders with a low groan the moment I envelop him in the wet warmth he’s been on edge for.
“Fuck…” he mutters, head dropping back again, squeezing the cushions tighter before bringing a hand to my hair instead.
Humming around him, I sink lower and lower, able to feel just how overcome by it he is, the more I take. The gentle pullat my strands sends a thrill down my spine, only spurring me on further.
As much as I love how in control he tends to be, there’s something so addictive about the way he gives himself over when he’s in the mood for it, giving me control. He could easily flip the script on me, but instead, he lets me do what I want, and that only makes me want him more.
Giving his thighs an encouraging squeeze, I focus now on moving on him, developing a pace that makes him teeter on the brink of losing his mind. More stifled grunts and moans slip from him, completely out of control now.
“You’re too good at this,” Ivan mutters, unable to stop the slight roll of his hips, chasing after more friction and warmth. It pushes him slightly deeper into my mouth, and his fingers tense against my scalp. “Fuck…sorry.”
I only hum my response, finding the honest reaction too hot to be mad about. Instead, I press further, taking as much of him as I physically can.
His eyes roll back, closing firmly while he tries so hard to get a grip of himself, but the breathless sound he lets go of is incredibly telling.
“Shit, babe, I’m not gonna last,” he admits, words more guttural than usual. His breath turns more frantic, and when he can’t take it anymore, he gently guides me off of him with a relieved sigh while pulling me closer until I’m straddling his lap. His bated breath fans lightly over my lips. “You’re insatiable.”
“I was just getting started.”
“And it was about to end really fast,” Ivan muses, hand holding the back of my neck while the opposite one slides thehem of my dress up. “But I need to be inside you before I let that happen.”
The promise in his words elicits an immediate excitement through me, and before I know it, I’m being maneuvered onto my back, sinking into the cushions while he hovers above me.
Another rush of desire shoots through me just from the sight of him, drinking him in while he makes quick work of his clothes, shedding the fabrics before easing my dress up and letting it join the pile on the floor.
Ivan hums and leans in, lips finding my neck with renewed heat, bolstering his every movement. His hands dip down, already working my panties off me next until I’m just as bare as him.
The second our bodies press together, skin to skin, the room goes up by at least ten degrees, and all our previous teasing and ribbing dissolves into pure lust.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” he breathes, latching his lips against my pulse all the while his fingers dip lower, easily sliding through my folds, finding nothing short of dampness from me. He grins at that, making a low, satisfied sound in his chest.
My eyes close as my breath catches, and my body immediately responds to his touch. I part my thighs a little more, inviting his ministrations without hesitation. The slow, deliberate circles he traces against my clit make me writhe and moan for more, losing myself to the fog filling my head.
And when he slips his fingers inside, my back arches from the couch, and a louder, more intense groan tells him exactly the kind of state he’s rendering me into.
Pleased, Ivan kisses every inch of me he can reach before finding my lips again, claiming my mouth with absolutecertainty, leaving no room to question how badly he wants this too.
