Page 23 of Gilded in Blood

Fuck. The sight of her like this, spread open, dripping, hits me like a drug. My cock strains painfully against my pants, throbbing with the need to replace her fingers and claim what’s mine.

“Good girl,” I murmur, stepping further into the room. “Look at you. So fucking wet. That pretty little pussy is dripping for me, isn’t it?”

A needy whimper escapes her lips. My filthy words clearly send another rush of heat through her body.

“Deeper,” I order, my voice dropping low. “Fuck yourself harder with those fingers. Imagine it’s my cock stretching you open.”

She moans, obeying instantly. Her hips roll greedily as she pushes her fingers deeper inside herself. I can see the desperate need written all over her face, she is aching for me.

I stop at the edge of the bed, towering over her. “That’s it. Such a needy little thing. You were thinking about me, weren’t you? Touching that greedy cunt while you thought about me.”

“Yes…” Her admission comes out broken and breathless.

I walk over to her closet and reach into her suitcase and pull out the sheer black lace lingerie set I’d mocked back in her dorm, the one with the tiny thong and barely-there bra. I toss it onto the bed beside her.

I’ve wanted to see her in this set since the moment I first laid eyes on it in her dorm. The thought of wrapping her body in something so delicate and filthy has haunted me for the whole day.

This is reckless, I know. But I’m here now, standing over her while she’s soaked and trembling, so I might as well indulge my fantasy.

“Put it on. Now. I want to see you in it while you come.”

Her hands shake as she sets the toy aside for a moment and slips into the lingerie. The delicate lace scrapes teasingly over her sensitive nipples, and the thong disappears between her soaked folds.

Perfection. She looks like sin wrapped in lace, made to be ruined by me.

“Beautiful,” I growl, drinking in the sight. “Now spread those legs wider and fuck yourself again. Use the toy on your clit while you finger that tight pussy.”

She obeys, lost in the heat of my stare and my commands. The rose vibrator presses back against her clit as she thrusts two fingers inside herself faster, moaning openly now.

“Look at me,” I demand. “Eyes on me while you fall apart.”

“Ilya…” Her voice breaks on that name like a plea.

Fuck. The sound hits me straight in the gut. What I’d give to hear her scream my real name, while she shatters around my cock instead.

“Come for me, princess. Let me watch you soak that pretty lace.”

Milana

The orgasm hits me like a freight train, harder and sharper than anything I’ve ever felt alone. I cry out his name, back arching off the bed, thighs shaking violently as pleasure rips through every inch of me.

My walls clench hard around my fingers, wetness coating my hand and the lace thong.

Ilya reaches down, takes my slick hand, and brings my glistening fingers to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his warm tongue swirling, eyes never leaving mine. A deep, satisfied hum vibrates against my skin.

“You taste exactly like I imagined,” he murmurs.

Then, just like that, he releases my hand, turns around, and walks out of the room without another word. The door clicks shut behind him.

What the hell? Why would he just leave?

For a second I consider getting up and going after him. But no. That would make me look desperate. Pathetic.

I’m Milana Morozov. I don’t chase men.

I pull the covers over myself, still wearing the soaking lace lingerie, and close my eyes.

But sleep doesn’t come easily. All I can think about is Ilya, his voice, his eyes, the way he sucked my fingers like he was starving for me.