Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“On your knees.”
My knees hit the floor instantly.
The carpet burns against my skin, but I don’t care. My fingers fumble with his belt, yank it open, draw his zipper down. My breathing turns ragged as I finally free him.
Fuck.
He’s thick, hard, and huge.
I lick my lips, flicking my gaze up. “Do you want me to beg?”
His eyes darken, his jaw tightening.
“No,” he answers with a wicked grin. “I have other ideas for that smart mouth of yours.”
I wrap my hand around him and drag my tongue up the underside of his cock, savoring the salty taste of his skin and the way his muscles go taut. Then, keeping my eyes locked on his, I take him in my mouth as deeply as I can.
Sergei groans, his hips jerking forward, fingers tightening in my hair as I suck him in inch by inch, my throat stretching to take him all.
“Fuck, Nicole,” he growls, his voice rough, strained. His fingers burrow deeper, guiding my rhythm as I work him with tongue, lips, and a hint of teeth.
I moan around him, letting the vibrations tease his cock, and he curses, his control slipping.
Then he yanks me away, hauling me to my feet by my hair. “Bed. Now.”
I stumble back, my body thrumming with need as I guide him to my bedroom. Somewhere along the way, we lose what clothes we have left, so that we’re both completely bare by the time we reach the bed. I climb onto the mattress and turn to face him, his powerful, inked body making my breath hitch.
He grabs my thighs, yanking me down the bed, spreading me wide for him. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he plunges into me with one brutal, glorious thrust.
A choked moan tears from my throat, the sudden stretch almost too much, but I don’t want him to stop. My back arches off the mattress, pulling him even closer. I claw at the bedspread, searching for anything to keep me anchored.
He pounds into me, fast and deep.
“Sergei,” I gasp. “Fuck!”
“Is this what you wanted, malyshka?” His voice is dark silk; his thrusts, punishing. “To be fucked. To be ruined?”
I can’t even form words. I just whimper, nodding frantically. He snaps his hips harder, his cock pushing deeper, hitting that perfect spot that makes me see stars. I hear the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust as my moans turn to screams.
“Too loud,” he growls, though his smirk says he’s pleased.
I claw at his back, dragging him closer, desperate to pull him even deeper.
“Then shut me up,” I gasp.
His mouth covers my own, muffling my desperate cries as he pounds into me, faster, harder, until pleasure bursts through me, so sharp and blinding. I shatter around him, my entire body breaking apart beneath him.
Sergei breaks the kiss and curses, his thrusts turning wild, frantic, his grip bruising, his entire body coiling before he thrusts into me one last time, his groans ragged and his release pulsing deep inside me.
We collapse together, his weight pinning me down and his lips trailing lazy, possessive kisses along my jaw.
I’m shaking from the extreme explosion of pleasure, completely wrecked. And I love it. Sergei leans back, brushing damp strands of hair from my face, his blue eyes still hungry.
“Still think it’s a good idea to tease me?” he murmurs.
I smirk, my body already aching for more.
“Absolutely.” I sigh, completely sated. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”
His gaze darkens. “Then I hope you’re ready for round two.”
Later, the room is quiet except for the sound of my own breathing. The heat between us has settled, the urgency of our lovemaking replaced by something calmer. But my body is still thrumming, still tingling with the aftershocks of Sergei’s touch.
I’m exhausted and satisfied, but something unsettling stirs in my chest. I blink up at the ceiling, my pulse slowly returning to normal as I listen to the faint rustling of fabric.
Sergei is already getting dressed.
I don’t know why that surprises me. I didn’t walk into this thinking he’d be anything more than a one-night stand. The best fucking one-night stand I’ve ever had, but nothing deeper than that. Our entire dinner was basically foreplay. I don’t even remember if he told me his last name.
The point is, we never made any promises to each other. I might become a nun after this. No one else will ever remotely compare to the way he thoroughly pleasured me.
Still, as I roll onto my side and watch him pull on his shirt, a strange feeling twists in my stomach. He moves with ease, like this is routine for him. Like he’s done this a hundred times before. Maybe he has. Maybe he thinks I’m the kind of girl who does this all the time too.
The truth is much more pathetic than that.