Page 51 of His Contract Queen

He releases my nipple only to shove the shirt up and over my head in one swift motion. Cool air hits my bare skin, making me shiver. Soon, his mouth is on me again. Wet and greedy, he traps the neglected nipple between his teeth this time, sucking and biting in rhythm with the slow grind of his hips until I’m writhing beneath him, incoherent sounds spilling from my lips.

His free hand slides down my stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of my shorts. His fingers part my folds and plunge two fingers deep inside me.

I jolt with a sharp cry. “Oh!”

My walls flutter around the sudden intrusion. He curls both fingers immediately, stroking that spot inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. His thumb finds my clit and circles it while his fingers pump in a rhythm designed to shatter me.

“Look at me,” he orders, lifting his head up from my breast.

His eyes are black fire, locked on my face as he memorizes every twitch and gasp he pulls from me. “Who do you belong to?”

My lashes flutter again. “Oh…”

He growls. “Look at me, Katerina.Who do you belong to?”

“You!” I gasp.

He rewards me by adding another finger, thumb pressing down on my clit with merciless pressure until I’m trembling on the edge. When I come it’s sudden and violent. My body locking down around his fingers, a broken sob tearing from my throat as wave after brutal wave rips through me.

He doesn’t stop.

He tortures me, drawing it out until I’m a whimpering, oversensitive mess.

Only when tears leak from my eyes does he pull his fingers free. He brings them to his mouth and licks them clean while holding my gaze. When he leans down and kisses me deep, I taste myself on his tongue.

I’ll never get enough of him.

I can’t.

Despite everything—the monster I know he’s capable of being, the man behind the shadows influencing parts of this world I couldn’t even begin to fathom—I still want him with a need that is so desperate it borders on hysterical.

“Turn over,” he says, parting from me.

I obey without hesitation, rolling onto my stomach and pushing up onto my knees when he nudges my thighs apart. My hands grip the arm of the couch in front of me, using it to keep me upright. He tugs my shorts down in one rough motion, leaving them tangled around my knees. I feel the heat of him behind me, the blunt head of his cock notches at my entrance.

When he pushes himself inside me, he does it in one brutal stroke that buries him until his hips meet my ass.

I cry out, nails biting down on the leather armrest. My back arches as he fills me completely, my walls clenching hard enough around his length to feel the veins running along the sides pulsing. He fucks me hard, each thrust slamming home, his hips snapping against my ass with bruising a force.

One hand fists into my hair, pulling my head back until my spine bows. The other grips my hip hard enough that I know a perfectly visible handprint will be left long after this is over.

“You feel that?” he growls. “How perfectly you take me? Your body belongs to me, Katya. Do you feel how badly it wants to be mine?”

Pleasure and need twist together inside me until nothing else exists. There is no world outside this office. No debts or betrayals that will haunt me for the rest of my life despite never being mine to begin with. There are no contracts looming over me, signing my life away without consent or fear I will be given away to a monster with no humanity left in him.

There is only Aleksandr Volkov. Only the brutal, relentless rhythm of him fucking me until I can’t see straight.

Using his grip on my hair, he shifts me forward until my cheek is pressed down onto the couch’s arm. He keeps my ass in the air, slapping the side of my thigh when they tremble from how long he’s kept me on the edge. The thick head of him drags against that spot inside me that makes my vision white out and my toes curl. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, obscene and perfect, mingling with my broken whimpers and his low, guttural growls.

“Fuck, listen to you. Listen to how wet you are for me. How greedy this little cunt is sucking me in like you never want me to leave.” He rasps.

He’s right. I don’t. I never want him to leave me empty again.

I think I might die if that happens.

He shifts his angle, pulling almost all the way out until just the head is inside me. When he slams back in, the couch shifts under us. I cry out, loud enough that anyone in the hallway would hear exactly what he’s doing to me if they were passing by.

He doesn’t care.