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He sat on his heels, using his strong fingers to work knots out of my tense upper back. I groaned as he dug into my right shoulder, and he stayed there a moment longer, delivering extra attention. He only gave at this moment; any hint of concern for his own needs vanished.
Circular strokes worked strain from my arms, his hands gentle yet firm as he loosened my clenched hands. My feet were next, and the pressure he worked into each sole was euphoric. I moaned again, my body relaxing more than I imagined possible. Once he finished kneading my feet, he began working his way up my legs. My breath grew ragged, and as he passed my knees, wetness pooled between my thighs, my arousal unmistakable to his Dragon senses, and I did not try to hide it as I did before.
The first brush of his finger on the sensitive insides of my thighs was like a bolt of lightning to my core. I was wound so tight, despite his handiwork, from denying my lust for him for so long. My body was flushed and hot and wanting, and I ached to be filled already, and for once, my head did not protest. His breath hitched as he slowly stroked higher and higher, and loose pants hid nothing of his own arousal.
Ruslan’s eyes were molten, locked on his hands and how close they were to my dripping center. I spread my legs slightly, allowing him access to the highest parts of my thighs. A stifled groan sounded behind me, and I knew this was torture for him. He liked to dominate, but he held back, understanding that in this moment we were balanced on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong move would send us careening down to our deaths. So I spread my legs wider, showing without saying what I wanted from him – because I couldn’t say it, couldn’t let him win. But I wanted him to fuck me with every ember that burned between us, turning our passion into an inferno that consumed everything in its wake.
When his fingers were a breath from my core, I was no longer sure if oil or arousal slicked my thighs.
The soft fabric beneath my breasts did not provide any friction to my aching nipples or swollen clit, and I longed to rub against something rough. I placed my hands beneath my shoulders and pushed back onto all fours, my center bared to the male behind me.
“Fuck,” he breathed, and a small part of me that wanted to please him purred at the strain in his voice. I flipped so I lay on my back, breasts on full display. His nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes, brows pinching as if in pain. A few uneven breaths later, he regained enough control to continue rubbing his hands over my legs, though my own breaths were shallow as he worked up my thighs, the full view of his chiseled body the icing on the dessert that was his hands all over me.
He did not touch my core as he slid his hands over my hip bones, and I groaned as he passed it by. I needed something – anything – to touch the swollen parts of me. His grin was wicked, and I realized the tables were about to be turned. He straddled my body as he worked up my abs, then to my chest, bypassing my nipples, which were hard enough to cut glass. Hisfingers found the sensitive part of my ribs, eliciting a shiver as he traced a map to my hips. I closed my legs, rubbing them together to get some of the friction I was desperate for; I wanted to be filled, stretched, and rubbed all at the same time.
Ruslan tsked, then reached behind him to separate my legs. “The only one who will give you pleasure tonight is me,” he purred. Bracing his hands on either side of my head, he bent his face to mine, waiting, his smoky grays flicking between my lips and eyes.
My whole body was on fire, trembling as the thread pulling us together went taut, vibrating with anticipation. I was so hot, my skin so tight, and Ruslan remained absolutely still, torturing me with that damning smirk of his that melted the moment he crashed his lips against mine.
Where I expected a battle, I received sensuality, our kiss filled with passion of a different kind. His tongue parted my lips, stroking mine and tasting the last drops of wine that lingered on it, before the need to breathe had me turning my head to the side, and I sucked in a lungful of air. His lips found my exposed ear, then my neck as he trailed to my pulse and sucked on the fluttering beat. My hands were pinned beneath his chest, and he lifted his weight off me momentarily, before grabbing my hand and yanking it to his hardness with a growl.
“Do you feel how fucking hard I am for you, sprite? The diamonds we pull from our mines are no match for this, and I plan on making you shatter over it.” He stilled, mouth still on my neck, waiting to see what would happen next.
This was the tipping point.
If I touched him here, I would be giving him a part of myself. I would be opening myself to the possibility of us – the possibility that we were mates. The thread I’d been denying for so long vibrated with anticipation, and with a serrated breath, I clasped my hand around him. I ran my thumb over the tip thatjutted prominently between us, and a choked groan escaped his lips and ghosted over my neck. Wrapping my hand around the length of fabric, I stroked once, twice, as Ruslan sucked my pulse point. His control slipped with every passing moment, his hips rocking into my hand with each movement up and down.
With his calloused palms, he gripped my breast, pinching the hard nipple that brushed against the hard planes of his chest. Those hands were large enough to envelop it completely, and he splayed them over the mound, providing his mouth access to the pink peak, trailing his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth with a pop. A cry escaped my lips as his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, and he flicked his tongue over it to soothe the ache before repeating his actions on the other side.
The pleasure and the pain together were a heady combination, and I wanted more. My body arched into his, and I moved my hand from outside to inside the fabric of his pants and grasped the velvety skin. His cock jerked beneath my touch, and the sound that escaped his lips was primal, igniting my core like it was a candle and he was the match. His hands dropped to either side of the bed while he gritted his teeth, breathing hard through his nose as he fought for control.
“Izidora.” My name was both a plea and a prayer on his lips, and he stared at me in a state of pure rapture. He drank in the sight of my naked body below him, my hand disappearing between us. He looked at me like I was his salvation, like I was the oxygen he needed to breathe. Our gaze did not break as he rocked back, my hand releasing him. His arrogant face sank to my core, his hands parting my thighs so he could get a good look at me.
“You are so wet, my sprite,” he groaned, and my core fluttered as his hot breath swept across my skin. His tongue found my inner thighs, and my hands found his hair as I pulled himwhere I wanted. A rumbling laugh vibrated my thighs, and he flicked his tongue lightly against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Oh!” My whole body jerked as I released a cry of pleasure. It wasn’t nearly enough, and I told him so with my hands in his hair. With that encouragement, he latched on to my core, his eyes closing as he groaned into my pussy. He licked from bottom to top of my slit, stopping to swirl his tongue around my swollen nerves before repeating the motion.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said as he lapped at my wetness.
I whimpered under his touch, beads of sweat forming on my brow as he dove his tongue into me. But I wanted – needed more. As if he could sense that, he pulled away, hands finding his pants and pulling them off with one fluid motion, and he stood before me, cock swollen and ready, looking like a god as the last rays of the dying sun highlighted his powerful body. The bed dipped as he returned his weight to it, and his carved thighs spread my legs further until his thick length tapped my entrance.
“I want to hear you say it,” he purred, a hand on my hip and the other gripping his hardness.
I bit my lip, and shook my head. Saying the words out loud meant that I was choosing this, choosing him over Kazimir, and I wasn’t ready to make that choice, not yet.
The grip on my hip turned bruising. “Say it.” His eyes flashed with black flame, and the sight excited me far more than it should have. His head circled my clit, then he lined himself up with my core, waiting. “I told you that you’d be begging me to fuck you before the week was up, my sprite.”
I cursed the male who was about to drive me as mad as him.
“I can’t,” I managed to pant, my whole body tingling, trembling, as I waited for him to just fuck me already.
His dark brow rose, and that depraved smirk played on hislips. “Can’t or won’t? Because if it is ‘won’t’, I’ll make that decision for both of us. You are so fucking exquisite, sprite, and I don’t think I can hold out much longer.” He slid his length through my slick folds, teasing my entrance. “Because every fucking thing I learn about you makes me want you more – your fire, your resilience, your intelligence. And together they’re a deadly poison that I’d gladly imbibe just for one chance to put my lips on you.”
My whole body flushed under his words, breath hitching, and that was the only answer he needed from me. With one thrust, he seated himself fully, not allowing me time to adjust to his size.
And I was so, deliciously, full.
He backed out slowly, then entered again, teasing me when I was so close to combusting already, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside. His arms fell to either side of my face, and our lips locked in a fierce battle filled with moans and hints of blood as he nipped my lip and licked the beads of metallic liquid away. I pushed back into him, grinding my clit shamelessly against his hips, and he dropped a hand to that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling his thumb over it as my walls pulsed, signaling my impending release. A growl rumbled in his chest as I tightened over his length, hips working faster, bringing me to the climax.
