Page 31 of Mistaken
A dirty talker. Maksim is a dirty talker. I am so screwed. His expression never changes from his half-smile, his voice calm and even while he says the filthiest things to me like he’s discussing the menu the chef has planned for the next day.
“Youreprobate.”I gulped.
His brow raised in that irritating, elegant way he had. “Reprobate?”
“Reprobate,” I agreed absently, “a morally depraved person.”
He stands, ambling over to my side of the table, the breeze off the ocean ruffling his dark hair. His face has a five o’clock shadow now, changing him from the suave, clean-cut groom of today to something darker.
“You look alarmed,????????.”He picks me up, seating me on the table, pushing his hips between my knees. “I’ve been very patient, have I not? But you are my wife. I’m your husband.” Planting his hands on either side of my hips, he leans in closer, chuckling as I lean back. “You’re nervous.”
Even my smart mouth has deserted me and my lips are opening and closing uselessly like one of those fifty-cent goldfish. “No!” I scoffed; it could not have sounded any weaker than it did.
His face is against mine now, that stubble on his chin scraping my skin lightly as he kisses my cheekbone, then the curve of my jaw. Maksim puts my hand against the rapidly growing monster in his shorts, it’s hot, and I can feel it actually getting bigger as I touch it.
“I won’t tear you. I’ll go slow, but one way or another I’m going to get all of me into you. Before we head back home, this cock is going to be inside you in every possible way.”
His hand goes to my throat, pulling me closer, and he’s kissing me. You’d think this I could handle, after all, the man gave me a lengthy introduction during the wedding ceremony. That had felt like… staking a claim. This kiss was harder in some way, but softer, too. His tongue thrust harshly between my lips, exploring me while his long fingers stroked the side of my neck. Then he’d pull back slightly and suck my lips between his, very gently nibbling before releasing my lower lip and doing the same to my upper lip. His other hand slid under my rear, pulling me closer to his erection, which had gone past impressive and was definitely moving into threatening territory.
Tania was right.
Maksim carried me into the master bedroom, which might have been romantic but I think it was really because he didn’t want to drag me behind him as those endless legs of his loped up the long, curving stairway to the second story. My dress is gone, ripped up and over my head in the kitchen and my undies have disappeared. He’s yanked me to the edge of the bed and cupped my ass in his hands, long fingers spreading my lips apart and he’s staring at my center like it’s the most fascinating phenomenon he’s ever witnessed.
“Keep your feet on the edge of the bed.” As always, it comes out like an order, even when the man is debauching me.
“Oh, my god!”
He is licking me so aggressively with his hot mouth that I start squirming immediately, moaning as his tongue circles my clitoris, then he rubs his stubbled chin at the entrance to my channel and my hips come off the bed. I’ve never felt anything like it- so rough that its prickly attack on my softest parts is painful but the way he digging his chin up and almost inside me is just… so outrageously good. My hands slide into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and Maksim stops, moving his mouth maybe an inch away from me, because I can still feel the heat from his breath as he orders me. “Put your hands over your head. Don’t move them again.”
Um. Okay,I think, pulling my hands away and placing them where he told me to. When he attacks my center again, it’s almost more than I can take, he’s sucking and gently biting my lips, humming as he slides his tongue between my clitoris and the entrance to my channel and finally my squirming annoys him enough that Maksim seizes my hips, holding them down.
My ex used to go down on me like it was a chore. I eventually refused to let him anywhere south of my waist after he said, “Well, since it’s yourbirthday…”Maksim, on the other hand, is going after me like he is starving. But what’s making my legs shake and sending me over the edge are the noises.
Bratva Death King Morozov is not a noisy man. He issues orders in a crisp, authoritative voice, he delivers dirty talk in a deep purr. But this? He’sgrowling.I can feel it vibrate inside me and it is…. He looks up at me, his blue eyes glowing in the moonlight and slides two fingers inside me, scissoring against my walls. He’s rubbing his stubbled chin against all the soft, swollen parts of me and this is different from the post-spanking oral sex in my bedroom. That felt clinical, like he was simply finishing a procedure.
He was enjoying this.
His lips close tight on my clitoris and sucks it. Hard. Pulling it slightly and I scream. I have never come like this before, certainly not from a man’s mouth on me and my heels are drumming mindlessly on his broad back but apparently, that’s allowed because he only sucks a little harder.
I’d like to beg him to stop because it’s possible that this orgasm has gone on long enough to cause brain damage, but the only thing coming out of me is a long, low moan.
Maksim stops when he is damn good and ready to, waiting until my legs have stopped moving and my chest is heaving, trying to draw in enough air to avoid passing out, which I am certain would only please him.
Back to why Tania was right. Because by the time I’m capable of focusing again, my terrifying new husband is pulling off his clothes, and he is… gigantic. His cock is thick and wide enough that I’m certain it should be anywhere other than inside me.
His large body is sliding over me, the heat of him radiating over my chilled skin and his big hand is gently squeezing one breast while his mouth is on the other. He’s rubbing my nipple with his tongue, then biting down sharply, making me yelp, and he switches to my other breast to try it again.
“Such pretty breasts,prekrasnyy,” Maksim pushes them together, rubbing his mouth and chin on my skin and leaving red marks and the beginnings of bruises. It feels incredible. My hands drift down to touch him and he pulls away. “You do not touch me without my permission. Am I going to have to tie you to the bed?” he said coldly, “Or can you obey?” He puts my hands above my head again, his long fingers easily holding my wrists together.
He’s looming over me, looking down and the shadows over his beautiful face filter away everything but his vivid eyes, still looking down at me. I’m not used to looking a man in the eye when we’re doing something so intimate. Maksim suddenly smiles, and it’s so startling that I have to choke back a squeal.
“I’ve wanted to be between your thighs from the first moment I saw you that night.”
“In Hell?” I supply, meaning the name of his club but his brows draw together sternly.
At least I’ve managed to distract him with my pussy, because Maksim’s gaze goes there as his fingers spread me open. “You’re soaking,????????.Soaking wet and so pretty.” His knees push under me, lifting my hips and oh, mygod, that thing cannot be real. He’s pushing his cock in slowly, withdrawing and doing it again with a practiced swirl of his hips that tells me that at least he knows how to be careful. But it still feels like he’s splitting me in half. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, eyes still focused on where we’re joined together, and when he’s finally flush against me, with nowhere else to go, he gives the slightest guttural chuckle. “I’m going to sculpt your perfect, tight cunt to fit me, only me. You are perfect…”
The last word is drawn out as Maksim begins moving in and out of me. My fingers are gripping the sheet, trying to keep still because even though it’s possible this might actually kill me, I do not want him to stop. Not ever. Nothing has ever felt like this and there’s nothing left but the feel of him against me and inside me. My strange and beautiful husband is murmuring Russian in my ear, words that I’m pretty sure are utter filth and it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for me to come, gripping his narrow hips with my thighs and gasping.
