Chapter 17
17
A nanya pressed him to the mat and put her mouth on his. Her heart whooped in delight. She was finally back in his arms, the only place she had ever wanted to be. His hands fisted in her hair, holding her in place as he surged inside her mouth, staking complete control of her lips. His tongue scraped against hers, and her heart punched against her ribcage. Blood rushed to her ears as he continued to stroke his tongue against hers. Heat pooled inside her. Her core began to throb. Her hands flew to his hair, fingers weaving through the soft strands. His body firmed against hers, his thick length further pressing into her. Mihir kneaded her bare back, drawing her even closer to him, while his mouth continued to dominate hers.
He turned suddenly, and she was flat on her back again. He quickly pulled her leggings and panties down her legs, so she lay bare in front of him.
Mihir stared at her, mouth open, throat bobbing.
“ Tak krasivo … So beautiful,” he repeated.
Need was written all over his face. It made her breath catch. He grasped her breasts, squeezing them gently. He took a nipple into his mouth, swirling the peak with his tongue. Sweet tension gathered inside her. He scraped his teeth over her sensitive tip, and her head thrashed from side to side. Her body arched, needing all that he was giving her. He pleasured one breast after the other, before skimming a finger down her core. She squirmed.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growled. Taking her hands, he lifted them high above her head. “I need your hands here. Don’t move them. Ponyatno? Tell me you understand.”
She kept her hands exactly where he wanted. His eyes darkened. A string of more Russian words escaped his lips before he pressed his mouth to her core.
Her eyes slid shut. Desire lanced through her. Fireworks burst under her skin. Her heart pounded loudly as he devoured her, licking at her core, as if he couldn’t get enough. His tongue lashed at her core, while his thumb pulsed against her sweet spot. Her mind blanked. Tremors racked her body as he brought her to the edge. And then he slowed down, pulling her back.
She screamed in protest. “Mihir, please… I want more.”
She felt him smile, slowing down some more. Just when her body began to cool, he thrust two fingers inside her. His mouth lapped faster at her heat while his fingers moved in and out of her, heating her body to fever pitch again. She was a livewire now, every inch of her ready to explode. But Mihir didn’t let her come. He commanded her body like a puppet master, pushing her closer and closer to the edge but never letting her fall.
She ached. Oh, how she ached. Desire beat like a drum inside her. An inferno burned beneath her skin.
Her hands grabbed his hair, and he stilled. He looked at her, shaking his head. “I said arms above, or I will stop, Anna.”
“Please, I can’t take it anymore,” she pleaded.
“Arms up, Anna.”
His mouth was on her the second she complied with his order. He was relentless, licking, lapping, his fingers twisting, moving deeper. Her breathing became ragged. Her world narrowed to him—Mihir, the only man who’d always known exactly how to reduce her to this burning, writhing mess.
Mihir curved his fingers inside her at the same time his teeth pressed over her sweet spot. She screamed. Shivers raced through her. Her eyes rolled shut as wave upon wave of pleasure flooded her. Her arms were heavy when she finally lowered them.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful… looking sated like this,” Mihir said.
Lifting herself off the mat, she planted her mouth to his. He pulled her closer, seating her across his lap, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough of her. She tugged at his t-shirt, and he threw it off his head. His shorts followed.
She stared at him, her mouth ajar. He was… he was… Fuck. He was perfection. A row of sculpted chest muscles gave way to sharp abs that tapered down his hard abdomen in a sharp vee, and… She sucked in a breath. He was huge… That part of him was huge as it jutted out. God… he was bigger than she remembered.
Mihir pulled her back into his arms. Being with him like this, skin to skin, felt complete. It was like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. She pressed kisses to his jaw, over the scar running across the length of his face, down his jaw again, then to his neck. Her mouth teased a path across one shoulder, skating down his chest. His harsh breaths were music to her ears. She liked knowing that she affected him just as much as he affected her. She paused to take in the anchor tattooed on his chest, right over his heart, tracing it with her fingers. Clutching her head, he put his mouth back on hers, drinking from her lips like he was starved for her. Her mind began to blank again, but she stopped it.
She wanted to see him lose control. She wanted him to burn for her. Pushing him back on the mat, she put her mouth to his chest, traversing a path down, lower, on his abs, down his navel, and then she took him fully in her mouth.
“Fuck!” His loud curse was just the reaction she wanted from him.
Oh, she’d missed hearing his ragged breaths. She’d missed the incoherent sounds that were coming out of his lips as she moved her mouth over him. He knew how to make her feel, but she also knew how to make him tremble.
She rolled her tongue around his tip, and his hands sank into her hair. She took him fully in her mouth, bobbing up and down his length. His heavy breaths filled the air around her as she continued to pleasure him.
“Please, Anna…” he pleaded. Her lips curved. She took him in deeper. He hit her throat, and he growled.
“Please stop, Anna,” he said. “I need to be inside you. I’m desperate to be inside you.”
She sucked him for a few moments more, enjoying the Russian words spilling out of him. A cat-like smile curved her mouth when she finally released him.
He shook his head, watching her, his breathing heavy. He clasped her cheek. “You were right. You still know how to make me beg. You’re the only one who knows how to.”
Before she could dwell more on that statement, he pushed her down onto the mat and climbed on top of her. Positioning himself at her entrance, he entered her with a swift thrust. He groaned, touching his head to hers. Her eyes closed on a blissful sigh. Her heart felt close to bursting—like it was finally at ease.
When she opened her eyes, she found Mihir watching her, pure pleasure etched across his face. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her. She sighed in happiness, relishing this closeness to him.
Linking her hands to his, he held them above her head. “I’m incapable of being gentle right now, Anna.”
She nodded.
It was all the permission he needed. He began to move inside her. It was rough; it was hard and fast. It was intense. Her mind emptied and desire hummed through her blood. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the angle allowing him to slide deeper into her warmth. His strokes now hit that spot inside her that made her vision fade.
“Mihir… So good…” she said, her breathing heavy.
His thrusts became stronger, more powerful, more frenzied. He took her mouth in a scorching kiss while their bodies continued to move together. Heat curled in her stomach, igniting every cell and molecule in her body. Her body began to shake. He pressed harder into her. She screamed, falling off the edge, completely shattering in his arms. A second later, Mihir’s whole body trembled, and he came inside her with a loud roar.
For long seconds, he lay on top of her, his head nestled into her neck, breathing her in. When he finally shifted off her, he gathered her into his arms. She clung to him, allowing her heart rate to settle.
Mihir looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great!” She smiled.
He rose and began getting dressed. So many questions flooded through her mind. So many emotions were churning through her, but she silenced them and quickly wore her clothes again. When she was fully dressed, he silently escorted her up the stairs to her room.
She halted at the threshold, undecided on what to say next. On how to proceed next. She licked her lips. Mihir’s eyes fell on them, darkening as he watched her. Her heart sputtered and her body came to life, wanting him again.
She ought to run from him. She ought to shut the door on him and let him be. She ought to take some time to fully process what she had just done with him and how this particular choice she’d made was going to bite her back in the future.
Instead, she looked at him and said, “Come inside.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Taking his hand, she led him inside her room and locked the door. Future be damned—she was living in the moment for now.