Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
SLOANE
He couldn’t be any clearer than that.
I nod quickly, desperate for exactly what he just promised. My hips grind against the wall without thinking, the need for him taking over, and when he notices, another rough groan leaves his throat.
“Ya ne dolzhen tebya khotet.”
“What does that mean?” I reach for him, needing to feel him again, but he steps back just enough that my hands hover uselessly in the air.
My attention drifts over his chest instead, the hard muscle there, the skull and snake tattoos stretched across his skin, every line of him tense with restraint.
“It means…” He closes the distance again. “It means I shouldn’t want you.” His eyes drop to my exposed breast. “I shouldn’t be looking at you this way. I shouldn’t be dreaming about you. Picturing you in my bed every night.”
He grabs the other strap and tears it down so my other breast spills free, two fingers closing around my nipple until a cry escapes me.
“But I can’t stop.” His hand slowly drags down the center of my chest, catching the fabric of the nightgown and pulling it lower. “You’re all I want.”
“I want you too, Kirill,” I breathe. “So badly.”
“Is that right?” He tugs the gown farther down my stomach.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
“Hmm.” He says it like he doesn’t quite believe me as his hands slide the gown past my hips until I’m completely bare in front of him.
That’s when the shyness finally creeps in, a sudden awareness of how exposed I am beneath the weight of his gaze. He must notice, because his fingers tilt my chin up before I can look away.
“Don’t.” His eyes move slowly over me, dark and intense. “Don’t ever hide from me. I want all of you. Every single inch of you is mine.”
“Yours.” The confession feels real, even though I know better.
How can I be his when he doesn’t really know me?
“Is that the truth?” His gaze narrows and my nerves ignite.
I reach for his forearm, my fingers wrapping around the warm strength of it. “Hey…what’s going on? Do you need to ask me something?”
Did you find out that I’m a con?
“There’s a lot I want to ask you.” He tosses me around, pressing me forward until my cheek meets the wall, the rest of the gown slipping from my body as he tears it away. “But right now, all I want is to hear you beg me to fill your pretty cunt.”
His palm comes down hard across my ass, and I jerk from the sting, a sharp cry leaving my lungs.
He fists my hair, his mouth dipping to my ear. “You can take it.”
He yanks my head back, just enough for his eyes to fix on mine. Then two fingers slam inside me until I scream.
“Kirill!”
“That’s it, detka. Krichi.”
He pumps into me, stretching me, his gaze drinking in every second of my pleasure. Like part of him wants to hurt me and ruin me all at once. When he slides in another finger, my walls tighten around him.
“Oh God!”
His thumb strokes my clit in a rough rhythm, the tension inside me building, the pressure tightening low in my body until it’s impossible to hold back, the need taking over until I’m hanging on by the thinnest thread.
Just as I’m about to come, he spins me, grabbing my hips, and lifts me off the ground. My legs wind around him as he walks us to the lifting bench. He lies across it, throwing me over his face until my pussy is flat against his mouth.
I barely have time to process before he sucks my clit, his tongue rolling over it while his hands grip my ass with possessive hunger. My eyes roll back, and I grab the barbell, holding on for dear life.
“Yes, yes, just like that.” I work my hips over him, wanting him deeper.
A low, gritty laugh rumbles from his chest, the sound rolling through me while he sucks harder, his teeth lightly nibbling on my center. And when his tongue flicks over me this time, I cry out, unable to handle any more, my release crashing through me until it ebbs and flows in pulsing waves.
But he doesn’t stop. If anything, he only takes more until I’m languid and weak, practically collapsing against the barbell, my body trembling with the aftershocks still rolling through me.
He presses a kiss to the inside of each thigh, a low grunt leaving him as his teeth graze along the sensitive skin.
“You always taste so good, solnishko.”
Then he slides me down until I’m straddling him, seated over the hard length pressing against his sweats. My hips start to move on their own, grinding against him, and the moment the friction builds, he mutters a sharp curse in Russian.
“What are you doing?” He grabs my hips, holding me still.
“I want to make you feel good too.” My hand drops to his hard-on, fingers tightening around the crown.
“Sloane.” That one word rumbles through his chest, his nostrils flaring as his fingers tighten around my hips.
“I’ve never…you know…done that for a man before. But I want to with you.”
A lazy smirk appears. “You want to suck my cock?”
My stomach knots from the vulgarity, and I nod.
“Then I need you to say it. Tell me what you want.”
It’s as though something’s suddenly caught in my throat. I’m not the kind of girl who talks like that…but maybe I want to be.
“Come on.” His smirk sends warmth rushing through me. “Be my good girl and tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I…” My throat tightens.
God, can I actually say that out loud?
His fingers move over my thighs, warm, patient, undoing me little by little. “You what, detka? Skaji mne.”
“I…” My breath catches. “I want to…feel your…your cock in my mouth.”
The words come out soft, almost swallowed by the air between us, but the effect on him is instant.
A low growl rips out of his chest as his hand slides to the back of my head and he drags me into a brutal kiss, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that steals every remaining trace of shyness from me.
His teeth catch my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past, deep and demanding, and he kisses me like he means to take everything I have to give.
“Kirill,” I moan when he finally pulls back, my chest rising and falling as I stare at him—at this beautiful, dangerous man who wants me when he can have anyone he wants.
His eyes darken, drifting from my mouth down the rest of me, taking it all in before he drags me back into another kiss, just as desperate and perfect.
A little braver now, I let my lips drift from his mouth to the sharp line of his jaw, brushing kisses along his skin before moving down the length of his neck.
My mouth continues lower, tracing across his chest until I reach the snake tattoo coiled there, my lips brushing over its open mouth as though it might come alive beneath my touch, ready to strike.
His hand slips into my hair as I trail kisses down his stomach, my tongue gliding over the firm planes of his abs while his eyes stay locked on mine, watching every move I make.
I work his sweats down, pushing them off until his hard-on juts out, thick and rock hard.
“Touch me, Sloane,” he groans. “I need you to touch me.”
I don’t hesitate, my hand closing around him and moving slowly until a rough grunt leaves him.
Dropping to my knees, I work him faster, savoring the look on his face, the way he enjoys what I’m doing to him.
When his eyes shut, I lower my mouth to him and let the tip of my tongue lick up his entire length.
“Blyat, don’t stop.” He bows his hips, clutching the back of my head and pushing my mouth into him until my lips close around the crown.
I suck him deeper, wrapping my lips tighter, trying my best to get all of him down my throat until my gag reflex kicks in. I push through it, practically choking.
“You're doing good, detka.” His fingers twist tighter in my hair. “Keep going. Take all of me.”
I do my best, but my eyes start to water and I gag again, the sheer size of him making it harder than I expected. The change in my breathing must give it away because his expression shifts immediately, concern tightening his features as his hand closes gently in my hair and he pulls me back.
“Are you okay?” he asks, rising onto his elbows to look at me. “If you can’t, it’s okay.”
The softness in his voice catches me off guard. That tenderness only makes him more irresistible.
God, I want everything with him.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I like making you feel good. Please…”
My hand tightens around his erection, and the moment I stroke him, he lets out a low groan and drops back against the bench.
“If you’re sure…” he mutters, giving in to me.
I can’t help the small thrill that runs through me, realizing I have this kind of effect on a man like him.
“I’m very sure.” My head dips back down, tongue circling the crown of his cock.
When he grunts, I do it again, swallowing him into my mouth and taking more until I start to choke again. But I refuse to stop, desire building between my thighs while I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper, my hand tightening around the base.
I have no idea what I’m doing, but I can tell he likes it, and right now, that’s enough. He pumps his hips faster, holding the back of my head until I’m swallowing every inch. His length somehow thickens against my tongue as he growls out my name.
“Sloane…” Hot spurts shoot down my throat, and I welcome the taste, enjoying this more than I thought I would.
When he finishes, the tension begins to drain from his body. His grip in my hair loosens until his fingers finally slip free. Then he pulls me up, his palms settling on my hips as he draws me closer until I’m looking straight down at him. A satisfied smirk spreads across his mouth.
“You are so perfect, do you know that?”
Warmth rushes to my face. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me.” His knuckles skim my cheek, and I lean into his touch.
“I like it when you’re sweet like this.”
“Is that right?”
Before I can answer, he turns us in one smooth motion, flipping me beneath him until the full weight of his body presses against mine.
“I like being sweet to you, solnishko.”