Chapter 19 #2
I crawled over her, caging her with my body. One hand wrapped around my shaft; I dragged the swollen head through her slickness, coating myself in her heat, teasing her entrance until she whimpered and arched, hips lifting in silent plea.
“Please,” she gasped, voice cracking. “Maksym—please.”
I pressed the head to her clit—once, twice—feeling her shake. “You want it?” I rasped, then bit her lower lip and tugged it between my teeth. “Want me to fuck you until you know I’m obsessed with every part of you?”
“I’m obsessed with you more,” she whispered hungrily. “Now—fuck me.”
No more games.
I lined up and drove in—hard, deep, one brutal thrust that buried me to the hilt. Her mouth opened on a silent scream, eyes flaring wide as her back bowed off the bed.
“Oh God—”
“I know, sweetheart,” I murmured against her throat, voice rough with need. “I know it’s a lot. But you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
She clawed at my shoulders, nails raking red lines down my back. Legs locked around my waist, heels digging in, pulling me deeper. I started moving—long, punishing strokes, each one slamming home.
I leaned down, teeth grazing the side of her neck—sharp enough to sting, not enough to break skin. She clenched around me, gasping.
I hooked one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her wider, driving even deeper. The angle made her moan—helpless, broken sounds that filled the room along with the wet slap of our bodies.
Then—
A hard, furious knock crashed against the door. Not polite. Not patient. Pissed.
Kira’s eyes snapped wide in panic.
I clamped a hand over her mouth mid-thrust, never slowing.
Another knock. Louder.
Then that fucker’s voice.
“I heard you in there,” Felix snarled through the wood. “Open the fucking door, Kira. Or are you too busy fingering yourself?”
Her body locked tight beneath me. I didn’t stop—kept fucking her slow and deep, watching her fight to stay quiet.
I leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “Want to open the door, princess?” I whispered, voice low and laced with cruel amusement “Let him get a good look at how wet and wrecked you get when you’re riding the right cock?”
I almost meant it. Let him see her fucked out beneath me—then put a bullet through his skull. So damn tempting.
But she was too perfect. Too hot and slick around my cock. I wasn’t giving this up.
I slid my hand from her mouth to her throat, kissed her hard—swallowing her muffled moans as I pounded deeper. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes; she was shaking, fighting silence, losing.
“Open the door!” Felix shouted again. “You little whore. Next time, you’ll be moaning for your husband.”
I broke the kiss just long enough to growl against her lips: “You’re not his, Kira. You’re my filthy fucking girl.”
I flipped her suddenly—dragged her up and over so she straddled my lap. She tried to ride, but I didn’t let her. Hands locked on her ass, I thrust up into her—hard, fast—slamming her down onto my cock over and over.
One of her hands braced on my chest; the other flew to her mouth, muffling the cries she couldn’t hold back. She looked utterly ruined—eyes glassy, lips swollen, face streaked with sweat and tears, body trembling as her pussy fluttered and clenched around me.
“Come on, baby—come all over me. Show me how much you love this.” I breathed, mesmerized by every gasp, every tremble that rippled through her. Fuck, watching her come was quickly becoming my favorite damn hobby.
Her answer was a raw, pleasure-soaked sob. Her walls spasmed hard, dragging me deeper as the orgasm ripped through her. Eyes rolling back, body convulsing, she came apart on my cock—silent screams trapped behind her hand.
I didn’t stop. Not until I felt my balls tighten, the pressure peaking.
I grabbed her, hauling her down against my chest, her back arched to fit the shape of me.
I pulled out with a strangled groan and shoved my cock between her ass cheeks.
That slick little crack welcomed me as I came—long, hot ropes streaking her ass and her thighs.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, breath hot against her ear. “You belong here,” I said. “With me.”
Later, we lay tangled in her bed—her naked body sprawled over mine, chest pressed to chest, my hands still tracing the curve of her spine.
Her thighs were sticky with my release, the mess of it trailing down her skin and pooling beneath us on the sheets.
Our breathing was still uneven, but she was draped over me like she never wanted to move again.
Eventually, I shifted, gently rolling her to the side. She let me with a sleepy smile as I pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder.
“I’ll be right back,” I muttered. “Gotta clean up the damage I just did to that pretty body.”
My voice was half teasing, low and raspy, and it earned me a soft giggle. She stretched out on her stomach, arms hugging the pillow, ass still glistening with the remnants of us.
I padded to the bathroom, snagged a towel, and came back, kneeling beside the bed.
I started wiping her down—slow, methodical strokes over her inner thighs, her ass, the wet heat between her legs.
She didn’t move, just lay there with her eyes closed, breath shallow, the ghost of a smile on her lips.
My cock stirred again at the sight.
“This was supposed to be cleanup,” I said quietly, breath catching. “But now I’m just thinking about getting you dirty again.”
She looked at me through her lashes, all sleepy heat. “I wouldn’t mind making another mess.”
She rolled onto her back, breasts rising with every breath, her body still flushed and beautiful in the moonlight. I climbed into bed, pulled her close and rested my head on her chest. One of my hands found her waist, fingers lazily tracing circles over her ribs.
For a moment, we didn’t speak. Just breathed. Just existed.
Until her voice broke the silence with a low, satisfied murmur. “Well,” she said, a laugh tugging at her words, “I’d say that was time well spent.”
I let out a grunt against her skin, turned my face toward her chest, and wrapped my lips around her nipple, sucking gently as I tasted the salt of her sweat. “You could say that,” I murmured, the words muffled against her breast.
I kissed her again, brushing my mouth over her collarbone, and whispered, “We should use a condom next time. We need to be careful.”
She blinked at me, surprised. “Why?”
I exhaled. “You don’t want to have a kid with fucked-up DNA like mine.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?” she said, pulling back to look at me. “You’re perfect. There’s not a damn thing wrong with you.”
A quiet laugh left me, rough around the edges. “Thanks. But you only say that because I fucked the logic out of you.”
Instead of replying, she shifted, rolling onto her side to face me. Her hand slid between us, fingers curling around my cock. It responded instantly, thickening in her grip.
“Never,” she breathed, biting her lip as she pumped me with slow, reverent strokes. “This perfect cock… I’m not ruining the feel of it with rubber.”
I watched her hand wrapped around me, her gaze locked on mine with that smug, sexy confidence that drove me insane.
She was stroking me like she owned me, and maybe she did—because fuck, I couldn’t stop wanting her.
I groaned, deep and raw, and kissed her like I needed her to breathe.
She moaned into my mouth, lifting her leg to pull me closer.
Still kissing me, she shifted her hips and eased herself down onto my cock again. The heat of her, the tightness—it hit me like a drug. I’d never get tired of sinking into that perfect little cunt.
“I’d be honored to carry your fucked-up offspring,” she whispered, breath hitching as I filled her.
The way her walls clenched, desperate and soaked, sent fire through my veins.
I buried myself deeper, fucking her with brutal, punishing strokes until she cried out and came all over my cock, legs shaking.
Her voice cracked as she begged for me to come inside her.
But I pulled out at the last possible second, groaning through gritted teeth as I came all over her smooth stomach.
She might’ve been drunk on cock and craving every drop, but no matter how far gone she was, getting her pregnant was not an option.
We collapsed in a tangle of limbs, both of us breathless and wrecked.
I reached for the same towel and wiped her down again.
She was too fucked-out to say anything, just moaned softly and curled into me.
I tossed the towel aside, wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her close, spooning her tightly.
My face nuzzled into her neck, breathing in her scent, and I let her slow, steady breaths lull me to sleep.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t leave after sex. I didn’t make up an excuse or slip out the door. I wanted to stay. To protect her. To fall asleep with her body pressed to mine and wake up knowing she was still there.
I woke suddenly from a nightmare—courtesy of my dear father—but I stayed perfectly still, careful not to wake her.
She was still asleep, her body instinctively rubbing against me, her soft curves pressed to my front under the warm blanket.
One of my arms was tucked beneath her neck, the other draped over her waist.
I groaned, half in pleasure, half in disbelief. This was the best fucking torture I’d ever felt.
She made a soft sound, like a sigh tangled with a dream, then pressed her ass back against me with a slow grind. My cock twitched, already painfully hard, and I tensed, ready to pull away before instinct took over and I fucked her right there in her sleep.
But then her voice cut through the haze, sleepy and amused. “I can’t believe I spent the night cuddling the Reaper.”
I smirked against her hair. “You take that secret to your grave, Malaya.”
She shifted onto her back, and I turned her fully to face me. I cupped her cheek, letting my thumb brush along her jaw.
“I hated the way Felix was banging on your door last night. I’m not letting you spend another night alone in this room. Not while he’s in this house.”
She blinked up at me, a slow, pleased smile tugging at her lips. “Hmm. Does that mean you’ll be staying here every night now?”
“If you’ll have me,” I said. “I’ll endure the endless cuddles. All in the name of your safety, of course.”
“Oh no, risking your precious reputation.”
“Yeah, yeah, reputation ruined. Now shut up and let me fuck you one more time.”