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It’s as if she’s reading my mind. I want to feel her body in my arms until the sun comes up. It’s as if my wish has finally come true.
“Don’t make me regret this,” I respond, and lean over her, sealing my mouth to hers. She kisses me back, and I know this will forever be the most perfect night.
We could be anywhere, and I’d make her feel good. Once she admits she’s addicted, we can have fun together, just the two of us. When she starts to care for me, she’ll no longer be a victim. Instead, she’ll be my queen. The woman meant to share my life and stand by my side.
“What makes you think that you can trust me not to stab you in the night?”
“I don’t think you want to do that anymore.” I laugh. “Besides, you had plenty of chances to do that the other night. Also, my men are outside. You wouldn’t get far.”
She shakes her head, then gives me a hint of a smile. “Fine, you win. I’m surrendering.”
I respond to her challenge with an amused smirk. “Yeah, sweet Kat, you are.”
Our lips crash together. She gasps and moans as my hand roams her body, knowing exactly where she needs my touch. Her nipples are hard and sensitive, wanting attention, like a cherry ripe and ready to be picked. Only then will I stop sucking on her lip to savor what’s waiting for me down below.
Her legs automatically part, and I smile, brushing a finger between them. She jolts at the contact but doesn’t push me away. She’s hot, a light sheen of perspiration on her thighs making my cock ache again.
I play with her entrance, rolling my thumb around her soft tissue. She can definitely keep up with me. She has more stamina than I thought she would. I groan in approval and pull her into my arms.
Katarina nestles herself with her back against my chest, her ass rubbing against my cock as my fingers play with her clit. I bury my face in her neck, sucking on her skin while I cup her breast and tease her nipple.
“Your body likes me,” I tell her in a whisper, just loud enough to make her shiver against me.
“Mhm,” she says noncommittally, spreading her legs further and grinding her ass to my erection. “Promise me you won’t keep me your prisoner forever,” she whispers in between moans. “I want equality. I want freedom.”
“Behave, and I’ll give you that and much more,” I murmur, increasing the pressure on her clit.
Katarina’s moaning grows louder as I continue my ministrations. I swallow her sounds with my mouth, wanting to lose myself inside her again.
We roll around on the sheets, hungry again and doing whatever it takes to be as close to each other as humanly possible. My hands don’t relent from her breasts or pussy. I want to touch her more than anything.
She wants me, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I need every inch of her delectable pussy. I slide my fingers inside her, reveling in the way her walls respond to me.
This time, we’re not blindly grabbing at each other. Our movements are slow and deliberate. Without wanting to admit it out loud, we’re making love.
She presses her legs together, searching for the sweet friction against her swollen clit. Her throat is bared, ready for me to mark it. I’m not shying away from the primal instinct to suck her skin hard.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, as her orgasm crashes through her body.
I hold her close to me, bringing her to the peak twice. There’s no more room for gentleness or tenderness right now. She needs release. She needs to remember this is real and not a twisted nightmare.
“Nik,” she gasps, and jerks into my hand as she reaches her climax.
When the high dissipates and she becomes oversensitive, I draw back and tighten my grip around her.
“It’s okay, serdtse,” I whisper reassuringly. “I’ll let you rest now.”
Her breathing steadies, her body relaxing in my arms.
“Why do you want to marry me?” she asks quietly, her question catching me by surprise.
“Your family will kill me otherwise,” I reply. “If I let you go, they’ll kill me. But if I marry you, their honor won’t allow them to touch me.”
Katarina lets out a humorless chuckle. “You’re betting it all on the hope that they have a sense of honor.”
“They do when it comes to you,” I say, having thought about the same thing many times over.
“But why did you pick me in the first place?” she asks. “We’ve never met. I was only aware of your existence because my best friend is obsessed with your magazine cover.”
