22. Rose #3
He pushes his fingers into my mouth, letting me taste my own wetness as he slips his arm beneath my ass to keep me upright, allowing me to thread my legs around him.
I want him inside me, want him to show me that the woman who flirted with him means nothing at all to him.
I know it’s reckless, and I should know better, but when he looks at me like that, as though he wants to burn himself into my memory, there’s nothing I can do but let him have me however he desires.
With the musk of my wetness still hot on my tongue, I watch as he drops his hand to his cock and unzips his pants, pulling himself out of the fabric.
He pulls my panties to the side, bringing himself right to my entrance, and I groan as I feel him nudge against my slit.
The last time we did this, it was when he took me on that table in the meeting room with his men watching, but somehow this feels even riskier.
Anyone could walk by, glance along the alleyway, and see him taking me, but that only sends a shiver of excitement through my system.
He pushes into me roughly, filling me in a single stroke as he presses his face into my neck.
I hear him groan as he enters me, and I wrap my arms around him, drawing him in even closer.
His teeth graze my neck for a moment, as if he’s telling me he could tear a chunk out of me if he wanted to.
The danger, the thrill… I know I’m becoming addicted to it, addicted to him, this man who has had me in ways nobody else ever has before, and there is nothing I won’t do to indulge myself in more, more, more.
He fucks me hard and fast, as though he is trying to make a point with each and every thrust. My ankles hook behind him without me realizing, my body taking over so that my mind can give in to nothing but the sheer, intense need that feels like it might overwhelm me at any moment.
The way he’s moving against me, he’s grinding into my clit with every thrust, and I know it will not take long for me to come.
I could call it pregnancy hormones, but I know it’s more than that. I know it’s him, this man who has given me so much, this man who knows exactly what I want and exactly how to give it to me...
I finally tip over the edge, my body squeezing around him as though I never want to give him up.
I cry out, and he reaches up to clamp a hand over my mouth to silence me, though I’m sure it is too late for that now.
Everyone on this whole street must have heard the animal noise I just made, but it’s hard for me to care, not when he feels so fucking good inside me.
I tighten around him, every inch of me pulsing with need as my pussy clenches over and over again, sending aftershocks of pleasure spiraling through my nerve endings.
Ilya bottoms out within me just a few moments later, slamming himself inside my orgasming body like he wants to draw my pleasure out for himself, too.
I push my fingers into his hair, pulling him up so that I can look into his eyes as both of us lose ourselves, and he kisses me once more as he fills me with his seed, that white-hot reminder of who owns me, of who my body will always belong to.
"That enough to remind you?" he rasps against my mouth, still breathing hard. I can feel the thumping of his heart against my chest, and I grin, brushing my lips against his as I tighten my thighs around him. As reckless as it is, I don’t want to give him up, not yet. I don’t want this moment to be over.
"I think I might be getting the picture now," I concede innocently.
He grunts, pressing himself into me one last time.
And then, finally, he unwinds himself from me, planting me back on the ground and readjusting himself so that he’s decent enough to walk back into the real world.
I gaze at him for a moment, his mouth still raw from where he kissed me, his breath still coming hard and fast, and I wish I could burn the image of him like this into my memory.
There’s something so intimate about it, seeing him with his guard down, if only for a moment.
This man, who seems to command the world, comes apart when he’s inside me, and that makes me feel incredibly powerful.
"Come on," he tells me, offering me his arm, apparently noticing how my legs are a little too shaky to carry me. "We need to get back to the mansion."
And I allow him to lead me back to the car, something softening at the back of my mind as we slip into the vehicle once more. He brought me here, he trusted me enough to see this threat through. It feels like, finally, he might be starting to trust me, to see me as more than a liability.
He opens the passenger door for me. I slip inside, and he takes the wheel once more as he drives us back towards the house. His gaze is fixed on the road ahead, his brow creased as though there’s more on his mind.
Out of the corner of my eye, just before we draw away from the sidewalk, I spot someone looking at me from inside the store. When I turn, I see Becky standing there, a look on her face that I can’t quite make sense of. I think of lifting my hand to bid her farewell, but before I can, we are gone.
And I am left with nothing but the memory of her face in my mind, and the question of just what the hell happens next.