Page 85 of Lord of Passion

"Okay," I sigh.

In seconds, I'm on my back and he's wrapped around me, forearms braced by my head, one knee thrust between mine, pushing my thighs apart.

"I'm going to shove your face into the mattress," he whispers to me as he flips me over onto my stomach, yanking my hips up. "I'm going to slam my cock you, hard, and keep it there, pushing my hips to make you feel every inch. You'll whimper because you aren't ready, but I'm crammed inside you so it's too late to argue."

Oh, sweet Lady Gaga, he's killing me with his deep voice, and how his slight Russian accent gets thicker when he's talking dirtyto me. I whimper, just the way he said I would. Then, he pushes down on my back, making me arch up to him and he spits on my pussy. I feel it and it's so shocking and so good, slicking his way as he shoves his cock inside me, just as deep as he threatened.

"So fucking tight for me," he growls. "This greedy cunt sucking me in." His hand slides around me and he tugs on my pubic hair, the sting lighting me up. He angles his hips, making room for his cock inside me. "So beautiful," he says, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Your mouth so wet, and open."

He's fucking me roughly, and my need for him after so many days apart is feral."Sogood," I groan happily. This snaps the last of his self-control, he pulls his hips back and then slams into me again, even deeper though I don't know how he found more room. There's a heat building around my belly button, swirling and growing, ready to take me over.

"I know I'm big," he says, a feral tone to his usually smooth, polished delivery. "But you can take me. You fit so perfectly around me, so fucking silky and soft."

The tall, carved headboard is slamming against the wall. I thought that was just a thing you'd read in smut romances, but no, the velocity of his thrusts is sending me closer to it and I watch the headboard bash against the wall.

Nikandr goes back on his heels, pulling me up with him, still buried inside me. His teeth fasten into my shoulder, not a gentle bite. This one might draw blood and I moan, grabbing his hair and yanking. "You're going to come before I do, baby," he rasps, "and I'm close." His rough fingers have found my clitoris and he's tugging on it, his hips driving up into me until it feels like I can't breathe, that every part of me belongs to him now.

There's nothing but the feel of him driving inside me, his fingers on my clit and his hoarse voice, murmuring filth into my ear. "Come for me," he orders."Doit."

The vortex of heat and need inside me is swirling and when I hear his voice, I shatter, I think I'm screaming but nothing registers but his cock, jerking inside me, filling me with come.

My husband carefully rolls me over and curls up behind me like the world's most muscular blanket, his cock still inside me. It's hard. He just came but it'sstillhard?

The room is filled with our panting, and the sound of lazy kisses. "So, did you feel anything?" he asks. I can feel his mouth stretch into a grin against my skin.

"Feel?" I mumble. It takes me a second to understand what he means. "Did you inject me? Right then?"

He hugs me tighter. "The transmitter is in your perfect, delectable ass."

I giggle weakly. "Can you come with me to my doctor's next time I need a shot?"

"I could," he says. "But I'd have to kill them afterward. No one gets to see how pretty you are when you come but me."

We fall asleep, Nikandr still hard inside me. No moment could feel better than this.

***

Nikandr is already gone when I wake up, vaguely remembering him kissing me, murmuring that he loved me. I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that.

Getting dressed in one of my power suits, I get ready for work with a blissful, loose-lipped smile that makes it abundantly clear that I was rode hard and put up wet last night. As I'm pouring my first cup of coffee, Isaak looks down at his phone, one brow raised.

"Mrs. Morozova, you have a visitor."

"Who? Liria?" I ask, putting in my earrings.

He shakes his head. "It's Miroslava Balabonova."

"The Dragon?"

"Yes," he says, "if you don't wish to speak to her, I can have Rafail send her away."

"Yeah, she's not the type of woman who accepts the word 'no'," I sigh. "Bring her up."

What the hell? I think, pacing the living room. Why me?

The elevator door opens and the Dragon swishes through it, holding one of her vile, yappy dogs tucked under her arm like a football.

"Well, there you are," she says, looking at me disapprovingly. "I've been trying to reach you. Your husband has been distinctly unhelpful."