Chapter 3 – Sasha #3
His mouth claims me again, harder this time, sucking until sparks scatter behind my eyelids. His hand slides down my stomach, skimming lower, and I stiffen for a heartbeat before his lips leave my breast and press against my collarbone.
“Shh…” he soothes against my skin, his tone equal parts command and caress. “Only what you can take, kotyonok. Nothing more. But let me show you how good it can feel.”
My body betrays me—I nod, helpless, needy, every nerve lit on fire as his hand hovers at the edge of where I want him most.
His gray eyes stay locked on mine as his fingers finally brush between my thighs. The contact is feather-light, a tease, but it’s enough to make my hips jerk up against his hand. He smiles like he’s been waiting for that reaction all along, wolfish and devastating.
“Sensitive,” he murmurs, stroking me through my slick heat. “Perfect.”
My breath shatters. No one has ever touched me like this—like I’m something rare, something worth worshiping. His pace is maddeningly slow, circling, pressing, retreating, until I’m gasping, clawing at his shoulders.
“Lev, please….” The words slip out before I can stop them, shame and desperation tangling in my throat.
“Please, what?” His voice is rough velvet, all command, all control. “Tell me what you want, Sasha.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but he doesn’t let me hide. His fingers still until I open them again, forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are molten steel, unyielding, pulling the truth right out of me.
“I want…I want you to touch me,” I whisper, barely breathing.
He presses a kiss to my jaw, then lower, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down my throat. “Good girl.”
His fingers slip deeper, sliding inside me with aching slowness. My body clamps around him instinctively, and his groan is low, feral, vibrating against my skin. “Tight. Christ….”
He moves carefully, deliberately, coaxing me open, his thumb finding that sensitive spot that makes me jerk against him. My head falls back against the pillows as waves of sensation crash over me, drowning out thought, reason, everything except him.
“Breathe for me,” he rasps, his pace building, his mouth closing over my breast again. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
And when it hits—hot, sharp, all-consuming—I cry out his name like a prayer.
I’m still trembling from the aftershocks when he eases his hand away.
I think he’ll give me a moment to recover, but instead he slides lower, spreading me open beneath his gaze.
His eyes flick up to mine, gray and burning, holding me there while his mouth hovers at the place no one has ever touched before.
“Lev—” My voice breaks, half protest, half plea.
“Shh.” His hands grip my thighs, firm, possessive. “I want to taste you. I need to.”
And then his mouth is on me.
The first stroke of his tongue rips a sound from me I don’t even recognize—raw, shocked, desperate. I arch against him, but his hands pin me down, forcing me to take every agonizing sweep of his tongue as he licks me like I’m something to be devoured.
“God, you’re sweet,” he growls against me, voice muffled by my flesh. “Fucking intoxicating.”
Heat floods my body, unbearable, relentless. He takes his time, tongue teasing, lips sucking, drawing circles that make me shake apart piece by piece. Every flick, every pull feels calculated, deliberate—like he’s memorizing the map of me.
My fingers knot in his hair, tugging hard, but he only groans into me, doubling down. The sound vibrates against my most sensitive place, and I gasp, my legs trembling around his shoulders.
“Lev…oh God—Lev, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His voice is dark velvet between licks, commanding and coaxing all at once. “You’re going to come for me again, Sasha. You don’t get to hold back.”
And when he sucks harder, tongue pressing exactly where I need, the pressure detonates inside me. My vision whites out, my body bows off the bed, and I cry out until my throat is raw.
He doesn’t stop. Not right away. He keeps going, slow, languid, drinking me down until I’m shaking uncontrollably, until the pleasure is too much to bear. Only then does he finally pull back, lips wet, eyes wild with hunger.
“You see?” he whispers, crawling up my body, his mouth finding mine again. “This is what I wanted from the moment I saw you. To ruin you for anyone else.”
His words still thrum in my chest when his mouth claims mine again—hungry, wet, tasting of me. My body is limp beneath him, wrecked and trembling, but when his weight settles over me, I feel that same spark of panic twist through the haze, reality crashing onto me.
“Lev…”
He feels the fear in my voice and slightly pulls away, those steel-gray eyes searching mine. “I’ll go slow. It’ll only be about you. Say stop, and I’ll stop. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
The word unlocks something in him. His hands roam again, slower this time, coaxing every inch of me to soften beneath him. He kisses me deeply, one hand sliding down to guide himself. I feel him there—thick, hot, daunting—and I tense instinctively.
“Easy, little one,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Breathe. Let me in.”
He presses forward, the stretch sharp, burning. My nails dig into his shoulders. I bite back a cry, but he kisses me through it, whispering against my lips. “That’s it. Take me. You’re perfect. Mine.”
The ache gives way to heat as he stills, buried deep inside me, his whole body trembling with restraint. His forehead drops to my shoulder, and his voice is ragged. “Fuck…you feel like heaven.”
Slowly, he begins to move—gentle, steady, his hand finding mine and threading our fingers together. Every thrust builds the pressure again, pleasure blooming where there had only been pain. My gasps turn into moans, my hips rising to meet him.
“That’s it,” he groans, his control fraying as my body opens for him. “Good girl. Taking me so well. You’re mine now, Sasha. No one else’s.”
The words shatter me, and I spiral apart around him, my body clenching tight as wave after wave of ecstasy rip through me. He curses, voice breaking. “Fucking hell, Sasha. Fuck. That’s it, kotyonok.”
I’m still boneless beneath him when his mouth finds mine again—hungry this time, insistent, nothing soft about it. My body is sensitive, sore in new places, but when his hand grips my hip, and he presses deeper inside me, a shocked cry spills from my throat.
“Lev—”
“You thought once would be enough?” His voice is gravel, low and feral against my ear. “No, Sasha. Not for me.”
He’s thicker, harder, the stretch sharper now that I’m already tender, and my fingers clutch the sheets as he pushes in deeper. His hand pins mine above my head, the other gripping my thigh, opening me to take all of him.
“God, you’re tight,” he rasps, dragging out with agonizing slowness before slamming back into me. The bed rocks beneath us. “I could lose my mind in you.”
Each thrust is deliberate, deeper, harder, like he’s carving himself into me. My body responds helplessly, arching to meet him even as the pressure builds too sharp, too much. My moans echo into the dark room, and he drinks every sound like it feeds him.
“You’re mine,” he growls, teeth grazing the side of my throat. “Do you hear me? Mine. No man touches you; no man looks at you again.”
“Yes—” The word rips out of me on a gasp, unthinking, raw. “Yes, Lev.”
The possessiveness in his eyes blazes, a dangerous, beautiful hunger. His pace grows brutal, relentless, forcing me higher and higher until I’m clinging to him, crying out his name.
“Come for me again,” he demands, thumb finding that sensitive spot as he pounds into me. “Now. I want to feel you break apart around me.”
I shatter, body convulsing, pulsing tight around him as the climax tears through me. He curses viciously, his rhythm faltering, and then he buries himself deep with a guttural cry, spilling into me as he locks me tight against him.
We collapse together, breathless, sweaty, my body trembling beneath the weight of him. But even now, his grip doesn’t ease, his lips pressing hard to my temple like a brand.
I don’t even realize my eyes are closing until the room blurs. My cheek rests over his heart, the steady thud beneath me grounding and strange. I don’t know what’s next for us; all I know is that I feel safe, and I don’t want to leave his arms.
“Lev…” I whisper, half-asleep.
His arms tighten. “Shhh.” His mouth brushes my forehead again, a soft contrast to the bruising marks he’s left on my hips. “Sleep, kotyonok. You’re safe.”
Somewhere between waking and dreaming, I hear him murmur my name again, low and rough, like a vow spoken only to the dark. Over and over, until it becomes a pulse inside me, until the city lights fade and the world narrows to his warmth and his voice.
And that’s how I drift off—wrapped in the scent of him, his heartbeat under my ear, his whisper a promise I don’t yet understand.