I tighten down on him, I don’t know why.
“Other men never spoke to you like this, did they?” He’s thrusting faster and every vibrating molecule inside me is focused on the feel of his thick cock. “I think you’ve been waiting for this, and you’re dripping wet now that I’m telling you exactly what you are. Using you the way you deserve.”
“Oh…” My toes are curling so hard that it hurts.
Lachlan kisses me, slaps my ass, and plunges inside me one last time. “Come on my cock, baby. Feel who owns you.”
When he explodes, the heat of his release even inside the condom burns and stretches me more than I could imagine was bearable, and I come too, soundless gasps of pleasure as a lightning bolt crackles up my spine and back down to my center.
Pakhan - Head of a Russian Bratva
Chapter Fourteen
In which a little light bondage changes nothing.
Aria…
I’m boneless.
When I return to some semblance of consciousness, my head is resting against Lachlan’s chest. I can feel the thunder of his heartbeat against my cheek, and the solidity of him is comforting.
“Beautiful,” he says, his voice husky. With a few deft movements, he lifts me out of the ropes, his thick arms holding me tightly against him as he enters the elevator. The door is mirrored and I close my eyes. I don’t need to see myself to know what I look like; mascara dripping down my face, sweaty and flushed.
My thighs are sticky and I’m so sore. I’ve never come like that… like my soul left my body.
I want to do it again.
When I open my eyes, we’re standing in the bathroom connected to his office and again, there are mirrors everywhere. So many and I don’t want to look at myself, or him. The complicated knot of emotions in my stomach twists tighter.
Lachlan settles me in a low seat. “Look at me, my wife.”
He kneels in front of me and I avert my gaze, angling off my tender ass and sitting on my left hip. His eyes drop and the slightest smile curves his lips. “Sore? I’ll take care of you.”
Wrapping a soft blanket around my shoulders, he kisses the top of my head and rises to start the shower. Pulling the blanket closer, I realize I’m naked and he’s still in his expensive suit, barely a hair out of place and not looking at all like he nearly railed me out of existence.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out in a croak.
“I’m taking my clothes off,” he says in a patient tone, “because you canna stand in the shower by yourself.”
Now I get a look at his chest and the tattoos that sometimes peek out from his collar. Every time I think Lachlan’s unearthly physical perfection can’t be real, he unveils something new that makes me quickly touch the corners of my lips to make sure I’m not drooling.
A wild, colorful mosaic of dragons and Celtic symbols covers him from hip to neck, with beautifully drawn tattoos inked lovingly over his smooth skin and hard muscle.
His sculpted pectorals taper down to a lean waist, and that V, that cursed line of muscle that may as well be a blinking neon sign, advertising the way to his cock. Which I never saw but certainly felt. Pulling off his shirt, he grins at me.
“We don’t have time for a strip show. Another night.”
I stubbornly stare at the running water in the shower until he’s naked and scoops me back up in his arms. I want to snap at him to stop carrying me around, but when he sets me on my shaky feet, I have to lean against the tile wall. He wraps an arm around me to keep me steady and I gaze at the enormous bicep flexing against my breasts.
“Are all your brothers monstrously huge like you?”
The chest I’m leaning against shakes with laughter. “Are ya’ asking about my brother’s tadgers?”
“Tadgers?”
“Their cocks,” Lachlan’s running a soapy sponge down my arm and across my belly, igniting something I shouldn’t be feeling after what we just did.
“No!” He’s moving the sponge up over my breasts, the light roughness of the sponge making my nipples tingle, my treacherous body trying to convince me that another round with the God of Chaos is welcome. “I meant- I was asking if they were tall like you, that’s all.”
