Chapter 21 #2
I lean into him, my legs tangled with his as he shoves his knee between my thighs, parting them. Heat coils in my stomach, pressure builds a desperate ache between my thighs. I lift my hips, wordlessly begging for him to take me.
And then he slows as if savoring me. The hurried kisses grow softer.
More passionate. He takes his time, his rough palm running the length of my body as if memorizing me, as he brushes his lips to mine.
His hands explore me as if it’s the first time we’ve ever touched.
His cock swells, pressed up against me, and I whimper.
“Don’t moan like that,” he grates. “I won’t be able to hold myself back, Ember. I’ll fucking break you.”
I arch into him and release a low, desperate moan, deliberately pressing into the hard length straining against his jeans, my hips rolling. “Maybe I want you to.”
Rodion’s grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. His mouth brushes the shell of my ear, his breath ragged.
“Ty khoche?’, shtoby ya tebya rastyanul na etikh prostynyakh i zastroil tebia krikami, da?”
I don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but it makes me shiver. The words sound hot and sinful, and I love it.
I have way underestimated how hot his Russian is. Way underestimated. I’m going to make him record his voice so I can play it on repeat while I—
His hand is on my neck. Pressing.
I told him to break me. I wanted this.
Do I?
I drag in a shuddering breath. I can still breathe.
Yes.
Heat floods my core at the feel of his heavy hand on my neck, the possessive look of his straining muscles, with the knowledge he could break me but won’t.
“What did you say?” I ask in a whisper, relishing the slow, wicked smirk that’s all Rodion. “The Russian.”
“I asked if you want me to stretch you out on those sheets and fill the room with the sound of your screaming.”
I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming beneath his palm. I nod.
“It’s easy in Russian,” he rasps. Say, “Da, Rodion.”
I lick my lips, barely able to form the words. “Da, Rodion.”
His responding groan is music to my ears. “Khoroshaya devochka.” He kisses my cheek. “Good girl. Show me what a good girl you are.”
His hand tightens in my hair, my scalp aching deliciously, until my neck arches under his touch, baring my neck to him. His breath is hot and ragged against my skin, and I love the way his teeth scrape along the curve of my jaw.
His lips trail down my neck, but he doesn’t kiss—he bites, sharp enough to make me scream.
“That’s what I want to hear, little queen.” He kisses where he bit before he bends his mouth to my breasts. They’re full and aching for him, so when he tugs a hardened nipple between his teeth, I let myself go and scream out loud. My need for him becomes wet heat between my legs, aching for him.
He suckles my breast and flicks the other, then nips and grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. “You’re trembling. Is it fear, little queen? Or something else?”
“Uh. Both? Can I say both?”
He grins. “You can say anything you want.”
I can’t hide the way my hips shift beneath him, chasing friction. He chuckles darkly, his free hand slipping under my ass and squeezing the sore place he spanked with the leather camera strap before sliding between my legs, his fingers grazing over the heat pooling between my thighs.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers. “Vot eto moya devochka.”
I moan as he strokes me, slow and deliberately teasing, just enough to drive me mad. When he pulls his hand back, he leaves me writhing and desperate. Aching.
“Soaked,” he says with mock disapproval. “You think I’ll let this slide? You think I won’t punish you for being such a bad, wicked little slut?”
I tilt my head back in silent surrender. “What are you gonna do?” I barely recognize my own voice. “Punish me? Ohhh. I’m so scared.”
I should be. I very much should be. I’m well aware of the fact that the spanking he gave me on that elevator was nowhere near what he was capable of, and if he even begins to think of orgasm denial...
“You really want to play that game?” he asks, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to be my good girl?”
I give him a silent pout and turn away.
“Look at you, so fucking beautiful.”
He pushes away, and I whimper at the loss of his heat. “Rodion!”
I stare as his hands nimbly unfasten his belt. Dear god, he’s a thirst trap in human form as he tugs the belt free and loops it. He just spanked me. He’s not going to—
In seconds, he rearranges me on the bed so I’m facing away from him, my wrists in his hand. “You said you like competency, didn’t you? What was it you said, competency porn?”
“Well, I didn’t—I mean—Rodion,” I protest, as he loops the belt around my wrists and tugs, securing them.
“Let’s see how competent I am at making you come.”
Oh my fucking god. Why does that fill me with dread and delicious expectation at the same time?
“You can’t—you—well, I—”
“Quiet, little queen. One more word, and I’ll gag you. You want to surrender to me? Do it.”
I open my mouth to protest when I feel him beneath me. What is he—oh god.
Rodion lies on the bed beneath me and arranges my thighs on either side of his face. “Sit on my face,” he growls, his breath hot against my thighs. I have enough room to move my hands up and down, even though I can’t get away.
Grabbing my thighs, he tugs me down. I’m shaking at the feel of his mouth between my legs. My eyes flutter closed. I can still feel the throb where he spanked me, his hand at my throat, the brand of his mouth on me, as his tongue lazily laps my clit.
I gasp. “Rodion!”
His palm slams against my ass. I hiss in a breath.
“Take it,” he orders, his voice muffled between my thighs. “No talking without permission. And if you come without permission, I’ll show you exactly what I can do with that belt, beautiful.”
I clamp my lips together and shudder at the feel of his lips closing around my swollen clit. My back arches, and my body tightens. I’m so damn close already. But he… he said… I can’t think anymore.
My hips arch as I desperately try to remember. I can’t talk except to ask him to come. If I come without permission, I’m toast. And that might sound hot, but I definitely think it’s one of those things I’m not quite ready for.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers just before he plunges his fingers into my core. “Good girl. Are you ready to come, gorgeous?”
I nod wordlessly. “Please,” I whisper. “May I?”