I grab both of her creamy thighs, the skin soft as silk under my calloused palms, and spread them wide. I start at her knee, trailing my mouth down the inner length of one long, trembling leg. Every time my tongue licks her skin, she jumps, a fresh wave of whimpers breaking from her lips.
“Please…Timofey, please,” she begs, her voice a jagged wreck.
I ignore the plea, taking my sweet time as I move to the other leg. I start at the ankle this time, my lips grazing the bone before moving upward, my breath hot against her inner thigh. She’s thrashing now, her heels digging into the mattress, her body a live wire of anticipation.
I want her to ache. I want her to feel every inch of the distance between my mouth and where she needs me to be. By the time I reach the apex of her thighs again, she’s sobbing my name, her head thrashing against the pillow in a beautiful, frantic rhythm of surrender.
The sound she makes is primal, a jagged scream that echoes off the cold walls of the room, but I don't give her a second to recover. Guided by her frantic grip on my hair, I bury my face in her heat, the scent of her—sweet, musk, and pure invitation—filling my senses until I can’t think of anything else.
I give her another long, slow lick, my tongue flat and firm as it drags from the base of her opening to the very top. She’s vibrating beneath me, her hips bucking off the bed in a desperate attempt to meet the pressure. I capture her clit between my lips, sucking a sharp, rhythmic pulse that sends her into a frenzy.
“Timofey!” she shrieks, her nails digging into my scalp now, her thighs trembling so violently they’re hitting my shoulders.
I don’t let up. I dive deeper, my tongue swirling and flicking with a lethal precision I usually reserve for a blade. I want to drink her in, to taste the very moment she loses herself to me. Every time she tries to catch her breath, I change the rhythm, a torturous flick here, a deep, suctioning pull there, until she’s nothing but a mess of tangled black hair and pale, flushed skin.
I can feel the tension in her muscles reaching a breaking point. Her breath is coming in short, panicked hitches, and the slickness of her desire is everywhere. I’m a man who thrives on control, but as I feel her start to shatter under my mouth, I realize I’ve never wanted to lose it more than I do right now.
I slide my hands under her ass, lifting her higher, forcing her to take every bit of the pleasure I’m pouring into her. I’mgoing to make her remember the taste of my name and the feel of my tongue until she can’t breathe without thinking of me.
“I need you, now,” she says.
The words aren’t a request. They’re a command, sharp and undeniable. I’m going insane. I already figured out that Valeria isn’t like other women—she’s assertive, forged in a world that doesn’t allow for weakness—but hearing her say it so clearly, so bluntly, hits me like a physical blow to the chest.
She grabs my arm and pulls me up, her strength fueled by a raw, unyielding hunger. I don’t fight it. She slams her lips to mine, a collision of teeth and heat, and for a second, the room spins. Then, her hand dips beneath the waistband of my sweatpants.
Her fingers—delicate, elegant—wrap around the base of my cock and give it a solid, grounding tug all the way to the tip.
Fuck.
A jagged groan is ripped from my throat and buried in her mouth as her thumb sweeps across the crown, trailing fire and ruin. My blood is a thundering river, and every nerve ending I have is screaming for the friction only she can provide.
I yank my mouth from hers, my breath coming in scorched gasps, and bury my face against her breast, sucking a nipple into my mouth as if I’m starving. I can feel the frantic beat of her heart against my cheek.
“Now, Timofey,” she gasps, her voice a desperate, broken melody. Her hands are everywhere now—on my shoulders, in my hair, pulling me toward the center of her. “Please. I’m on the pill. I need you. Inside.”
The last of my logic disintegrates. I don’t care about the Petrovs. I don’t care about the war waiting outside that door. I reach down, my hands trembling with an urgency that borders on violence, and rid myself of my pants.
I move back between her spread thighs, the sight of her—flushed, open, and waiting for me—burning itself into my retinas. I align myself at her entrance, the heat radiating from her making my vision go dark at the edges.
“You asked for this, Valeria,” I rasp, my voice a dark, lethal promise.
I don’t wait for her to answer. I lunge forward, plunging into her in one deep, devastating stroke that fills every inch of the ache between us.
I don’t give her a second to adjust to the invasion. The moment I’m buried deep within her, the last of my restraint incinerates. I reach down, hooking my hands under her knees and pinning her legs back until she’s completely open, completely mine.
Then, I drive.
The rhythm is brutal and unrelenting—the kind of pace that leaves no room for thought, only sensation. Every time my hips collide with hers, the sound of skin hitting skin echoes like a gunshot in the quiet room. It’s hard, fast, and punishing. I’m a man possessed, a soldier in a war that has moved from the streets to this bed, and I’m claiming every inch of her territory.
Valeria’s head thrashes against the pillow, her black hair a wild, silken mess. She’s making sounds I’ve never heard—high, broken keels that stutter in time with my thrusts. Her heels dig into my back, her nails carving desperate, jagged lines into my shoulders as she tries to anchor herself to the storm I’m creating.
“Timofey!” she shrieks, her voice splintering.
I don’t slow down. I push her harder, my movements becoming a blur of friction and heat. I want to mark her from the inside out. I want the feel of me to be the only thing she knows. My muscles are screaming, my blood is a roar in my ears, but the sight of her breaking beneath me—the way her eyes roll back andher mouth hangs open in a silent, beautiful plea—is the only fuel I need.
I lean down, my sweat dripping onto her pale skin, and capture her mouth in a kiss that tastes like salt and surrender. I’m deep, reaching for the very center of her, hitching her hips higher and higher until there’s no space left between us.
The tension in the room reaches a violent crescendo. I feel her inner muscles begin to seize, clenching around me in a rhythmic, desperate pulse that signals her end.
