Chapter 20 #2
I grip her waist, yanking her closer, feeling her body arch against mine, the heat of her pressing against me. Her breath is frantic, lips swollen and parted.
“Konstantin,” she moans breathlessly against my mouth, hips grinding impatiently against mine. “Now.”
With a growl, I slide my hand beneath her skirt, pushing fabric aside until my fingers graze the soft, scorching heat between her thighs. She cries out softly, hips jerking forward eagerly, desperately seeking more.
My thumb strokes roughly, possessively, finding the sensitive spot that makes her moan. She arches hard into me, gripping my shoulders, her head falling back in a silent plea.
“Look at me,” I demand, voice low and rough.
Her gaze locks onto mine, heavy-lidded and filled with raw need.
“I want you to watch me make you come,” I murmur.
She shudders, nodding breathlessly, her eyes never leaving mine as I slowly push two fingers deep inside her slick warmth. She gasps, lips parting wider, eyes fluttering as pleasure grips her.
“That’s it,” I whisper roughly, kissing her throat. “Come apart for me, Nadya.”
And with a moan of surrender, she does.
Her body trembles under mine, still pulsing from the release I just pulled from her with nothing but my hand and mouth. Her eyes are half-lidded, dazed, lips parted as if she’s still trying to remember how to breathe. She’s never looked more fucking beautiful. Or more mine.
I press a kiss to her neck, just below her ear, and feel her shiver. She’s still sensitive. Still burning.
I don’t stop.
My mouth trails down, slow and greedy, across her throat, tasting salt and skin, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark she’ll notice in the morning. She gasps when I do it, a tiny sound, but her fingers are already sinking into my hair, tugging, anchoring me closer.
“You make me lose my mind,” I murmur against her collarbone, teeth grazing her. “You always have.”
I peel her top over her head, my hands rough and uncoordinated, too desperate to pretend otherwise. She lifts her arms wordlessly, letting me strip it off, revealing the bare skin beneath.
No bra. Fuck.
My mouth is on her breasts before I finish the thought, kissing the swell of one while my palm covers the other, thumb brushing over the tight peak. Her back arches into me as I drag my tongue across her nipple, then suck it deep into my mouth.
“Konstantin…” she breathes, twisting beneath me.
Her legs shift restlessly under my hips, her thighs brushing mine, needy and urgent. I move to the other breast, flicking and sucking and watching her eyes flutter closed.
I want to drag this out. I want to make her beg.
But I’m too far gone for patience.
I push her back gently against the desk, clearing whatever papers were left with a blind sweep of my arm. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know Lev’s documents are probably fucked, but I don’t care. All I care about is her—laid out in front of me, flushed and perfect and panting.
Her fingers fumble at my shirt, then tear it open, buttons pinging off the floor like gunshots. Her hands roam over my chest, nails dragging, and I hiss through my teeth as her touch electrifies every inch of skin.
She wants me as badly as I want her. I can feel it in the way she moves against me, restless and insistent, fingers sliding down to my belt, yanking at it.
“God, just take them off,” she mutters, and I grin before shoving my pants down, briefs with them.
Her gaze drops—and she swallows.
“Still want me, zayka?”
She rolls her eyes, breathless. “Obviously.”
I hook my fingers in her waistband and strip her of the last barrier between us, dragging her underwear down her legs and tossing them aside. Her thighs fall open for me, wet and flushed and already trembling again.
I drop to my knees between her legs and kiss the inside of her thigh, biting gently, then laving the sting with my tongue. I hear her whimper, soft and helpless.
But I’m not here to tease. My cock protests as I take my sweet time. I know I can’t hold back for too long.
I stand, grip her hips, and drag her to the edge of the desk until her ass is just at the lip, her legs dangling open for me.
Her eyes meet mine—dark, daring. She wants me bad.
I guide my throbbing cock to her entrance, just barely brushing her slick folds. She gasps, a tiny shudder running through her.
“I need to be inside you,” I say, voice hoarse. “Now.”
“Then stop talking,” she replies, wrapping her legs around me.
I thrust in one smooth motion, sinking all the way to the hilt.
Her mouth falls open on a cry, and my control snaps.
The desk creaks under us as I begin to move, slow at first, then faster as the pressure builds. She meets each thrust with her own, taking me deeper, clutching at my shoulders as if trying to hold on while everything around her breaks apart.
She’s tight and wet and hot, and the way she clenches around me threatens to undo me far too soon. But I hold on.
Because I want to watch her fall apart again.
“Look at me,” I demand, catching her jaw with one hand and turning her face toward mine.
Her eyes find mine—and I see it. The spark, the fury, the longing, the trust. All of it, tangled in a messy knot only we could create.
I kiss her hard. Deep. And thrust into her even harder, making the desk groan.
Her nails rake down my back, and I welcome the pain. I welcome anything she gives me.
“You feel so good,” she whispers against my mouth. “So fucking good.”
I grip her hips, angling deeper, and she lets out a strangled moan.
“Again,” I growl.
She moans again. Louder.
I lift her off the desk without pulling out, wrapping her legs tight around me as I carry her to the wall beside the bookshelves and press her against it. She clings to me, her body wrapping around mine like she belongs there—because she does. She always has.
I fuck her harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls, the smell of sex thick in the air.
She starts to unravel again, and I feel it—tightening around me, pulsing, her breath hitching.
“Come for me,” I order, voice barely human.
She cries out, her body seizing in my arms, and I follow a heartbeat later, burying myself deep as I spill inside her.
We stay like that for a long moment, breathless and shaking, forehead to forehead, sweat-slicked and sated.
Her legs finally loosen around my waist, and I carry her back to the desk, setting her down gently.
“You okay?” I ask quietly, brushing her damp hair from her cheek.
She nods, lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smile. “You?”
I laugh under my breath, still trying to catch it. “Better than okay.”
She leans in, pressing a kiss to my chest, right over my heart.