His tongue battles against mine, hands tearing my shirt apart. I gasp, my back arching into his touch. My nails tear through his shirt, and he parts from me, tugging off his shirt.
I drag my nails down his lean musculature as he wraps his arms around my waist, grabbing my ass and holding me up against the wall. My head spins with the impact, and I pant against his mouth.
My legs tighten around his hips as he struggles with his fly, quickly shoving down his boxers with my help. His swollen member rubs against my wet core, and I gasp loudly, my mouth claimed by his again.
His cock presses against my clit, making my toes curl.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he rumbles, his free hand tweaking my nipple out of the bra’s cup.
I feel desperate, like a cat in heat. All I can think about is the delicious stretch, his face as he sinks to the hilt inside me.
“Give it to menow,” I demand as harshly as I can, sounding more needy than I’d like.
His eyes glint with amusement behind the swirl of lust.
“Easy, baby,” he taunts in my ear, “you take what I give you.”
Then, he places his head at my wet opening, pushing inside in a single breath. My breath catches, as does his, as we take a second to bask in the moment.
Like this, everything feels right again, like we are exactly where we are meant to be.
His fingers dig into the plush around my hips, and move me at the pace he wants. It’s a punishing pace, a desperate one that makes me feel like I’m burning from the inside out.
Each deep thrust fans the open flame in my lower belly, every sound he makes driving me insane.
“Who’s fucking you this good? Tell me, darling, who’s got you so loud?”
If he wasn’t giving it to me so good, maybe I would have a shred of pride remaining.
“You, you!” I moan loudly, my pussy clenching around his member, the pleasure building towards a crescendo.
“Me, who?” His lips trace my neck as he swivels his hips in a slow and irresistible circle.
“Damian, Damian, Damian!” I yell, my core tightening with each thrust.
He curses under his breath. “That’s right. It’ll only beme, ever.”
His hips jackhammer into me, and my eyes roll back, one constant moan changing into a scream once my orgasm hits me out of nowhere.
As I twitch in his arms, it doesn’t take long for him to reach his peak either, his lips pressing against mine in a mindless kiss.
The waves of pleasure roll over me, not letting me open my eyes. My senses become woozy, but even then I know I’m safe.
Safe in his arms, his grasp.
When I come to, my body feels heavy with fragile contentment. My head is on his muscled chest that rises and falls with each breath, his arm draped over my waist possessively. His breathing is slow, even, unguarded.
I close my eyes again, letting the rise and fall of his chest anchor me.
Chapter 9 - Damian
“Iosif,” I breathe into the phone, “you need to get to my office as soon as possible.”
Harper’s discovery spreads across my desk like a wound that refuses to close, each one a thread leading back to Anton, woven into a tapestry of calculated betrayal.
“Kiro,” I grunt into the phone as I peer over the ledger, “my office. Now.”
When the stakes rise, the Ignatovs become a hive. Everyone becomes more alert, everyone armed. And tonight, the hive hums with the knowledge that Anton has moved his pieces faster than anticipated.
