“I’m protected,” I whisper, showing him the birth control implant in my arm.
I can’t quite describe the feral look in his eyes, but it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Until he pushes me toward the nearest wall. He takes my hands and places them flat against it and hisses, “Do not move.” He unzips my jeans, slides them and my panties down to my knees. I feel the rustle of clothing behind me and then?—
He’s right there.
His cock at my soaked entrance.
He waits, just a beat, until I whimper, “Viktor. Please.”
I have no time to prepare, to adjust to his girth, because he thrusts in hard and deep, bottoming out with a grunt that makes us both moan. I like it rough and gritty, and Viktor has just epitomized that for me. He has a hand covering one of mine on the wall, and the other on my hip, fingers digging into the skin as he starts to move inside me.
And it’s so fucking good.
He’s thick and incredibly hard, filling me completely.
He growls something in Russian and then starts to suck on the skin right at the curve of my neck. It’s sharp and sexy and sends a shock of pleasure right to my core. I know it’s going to leave a mark but I can’t bring myself to care—or to stop him. It’s like he knows exactly what I need and how I like to be fucked. Something other men have fallen short on.
Somehow, it’s no surprise that it would be this good. My gut told me he would give me exactly what I need without even having to ask. Kind of like everything else he’s done.
He’s moving steadily, in and out with practiced precision. Every time he bottoms out I shudder and clench around him, desperate to have him closer, deeper, for as long as possible.
“Viktor…” My voice is a cross between a moan and a whimper, and apparently that tells him he just needs to fuck me harder.
I guess he’s right because the harder he does it, the more pleasure it brings me. My body is on high alert, nerve endings practically screaming with need, and it’s not going to take long to get me off. I’m so close, it’s almost embarrassing.
“Viktor…” I squirm, my legs starting to shake from the ferocity of his lovemaking.
Because he’s not gentle.
He’s not tender.
This is carnal, raw, almost too rough.
Almost.
“Viktor!” I’m panting, surging back to meet every thrust as I struggle to stay upright.
Each time he bottoms out brings me one step closer to nirvana and my nails dig into the wallpaper. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last, every stroke hitting the spot deep inside that makes me tremble.
“Now you come for me,” he murmurs, biting down on my neck.
The little prick of pain is all it takes and the coiling deep in my belly gets tighter and tighter until my orgasm feels like a bomb detonating between my legs. I don’t just come, I gush liquid and scream, bucking and writhing against him as I ride wave after wave. I feel him jerk and they can probably hear his guttural cry down in the lobby.
And then we’re both still. Silence in the room except the sound of our own heavy breathing. He’s still inside me, and I pulse around him every few seconds. My hands are still planted on the wall, and I’m not sure I could move because if I do, I don’t think my legs will hold me up.
Slowly, he pulls out and a small whimper of frustration leaves me.
“Shh.” Without warning, he scoops me up and carries me to the bed.
We still don’t say anything as he sets me down and then gently pulls my jeans the rest of the way off, followed by my socks. At some point, he got naked and now he slowly peels off my shirt and bra, leaving me shivering on the bed.
“Beautiful,” he whispers.
Then he crawls up beside me and pulls me close.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, whispering against my temple.
