Page 55 of Daddy Brigadier

And then his lips meet mine with an intensity that feels like fire. Destruction. An unstoppable force. It’s a desperate, all-consuming collision of our mouths, capturing everything we’ve longed for during these weeks apart.

I surrender to him completely, my body molding to his, fitting effortlessly into the space that feels like it was designed just for me.

He growls against my lips, his grip firm and possessive around my waist. He pulls me closer, as if he can’t get enough of me, wanting to consume every part of who I am.

As I draw closer, wrapping my arms around his neck, I’m pleading for more, my tongue dancing against his, igniting a fire. I curse under my breath. The intoxication … so damn intoxicating that I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.

“You want me, Lexi. So, stop pretending you don’t.”

For a heartbeat, I’m at a loss for words. I stand there, breath hitching. Because damn it, he’s absolutely right.

My fists clench at my sides because I’ve always lacked something to hold on to. But for the first time, Valentin becomes my anchor, offering stability in my turbulent mind, soothing the chaos like a storm-tossed sea finally at peace.

There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t be with him.

He’s dangerous, and if I love him, he’ll destroy me.

But God help me, he’s standing here, and I want him more than my next breath.

Valentin steps back from me, revealing the black box filled with words that have enchanted my thoughts since the moment I first opened it. I graze my fingers over the top of the box, as if I have found something I lost. I turn, tucking my hair to the side.

Valentin draws closer, his chest pressing against my back. His finger glides softly along my throat as he tightens the collar firmly in place, a reminder of who I belong to.

“You are mine, Krasotka,” he murmurs softly in my ear.

“Say it again.”

“You are mine, Krasotka,” he says again.

I turn to him, my eyes locking onto his. With the pendant resting in my fingers, I suck in a breath, and my voice doesn’t waver. “I love how that sounds.”

My lips crash onto his, hard, punishing, possessive.

I am his.

He is mine.

His hand slides up my skirt, and I’m becoming more aroused as he runs his fingers over my panties, tracing their way down my slit. He lifts me onto the desk, spreading my legs, as he steps between them.

Our eyes are locked, and I’m oblivious to the knife he is now wielding. As he slowly lifts my dress to my waist, he cuts mypanties off at the hips, tearing them away before slipping them into his pocket.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs. “All of this for me?”

“Yes,” I pant.

Spreading my hips apart, Valentin dips his head, blowing on my pussy, sending shock waves all the way from my clit to my asshole.

He kisses the inside of my thigh, softly and slowly, as though he has all the time in the world. The more he kisses me, the rougher he gets, now squeezing my skin between his teeth.

He grins when I let out a painful sigh, which hurts slightly but in a good way.

The edge of his lips makes tiny amounts of contact with my vagina and clit. With his tongue wide and flat, he moves his wet tongue upwards from the bottom of my pussy to the top until the very tip of his tongue passes over my clit. His movements are slow, drawing it out as if he knows how close I am to a climax.

A sharp cry escapes me as he sucks hard, his tongue drawing lazy, controlled circles.

“You taste fucking delicious, sweetheart,” he growls.

“Valentin! Please don’t stop,” I beg, gripping the back of his head, wanting him to go deeper.