Page 86 of The Beast of Moscow

“Until you’re dry and then until you’re clean.”

“You better. Find your cream, kisska. And make sure you lap up every damn drop. Like a good kitten would do.”

“You’re still an asshole.”

Vas let his head fall back to the wall of the chair so he could stare up at the ceiling when he replied, “But I bet you like that, too.”

He wasn’t wrong.

She just wouldn’t say so. Everybody had their pride.

“Come on,” he said, that husky desire coming back in a blink as he folded veiny, muscular arms behind his head, so he had a nice, propped view. “I want to see you swallow me, Vera.”

25.

He knew she’d look heaven-sent on her knees in front of him. The very picture of temptation between his widened legs as she peeled open the towel around his waist. Vaslav offered her no help; he didn’t so much as shift upward to help loosen the towel. If this was what she was set on doing, then she could do it herself.

Besides, he was enjoying the view.

Vaslav only looked away when Vera finally had his cock—hard enough to throb within her tight palms—free. It was as good as he expected it to be—how she needed both hands, one on top of the other and used both to stroke all nine and a half thick inches of him. Air rushed up from his lungs the second she squeezed delicate fingers around his shaft, but he swallowed it back with a gulp of vodka from the bottle he already had waiting in his hand.

“Now?” he heard her ask when he put the bottle back.

Did this woman know she was perfect? That she knew to wait without him telling her; that she tested him in all the right ways, like simply asking if she could continue.

“Net,” came his low reply.

Russian was easier; it slipped from his mind before the longer, more descriptive direction he’d wanted to give. He didn’t think Vera would appreciate being told he would consider cutting her hands off at the wrists if she removed them from his cock at that moment. Even the sway of her shoulders as she double stroked him was mesmerizing.

With a grip that became firmer as she came up on his shaft in the best way, she kept a steady pace and watched him through lowered lashes all the while. It was the pleased, teasing smile playing on her lips that told him she saw through his carefully crafted facade.

The bottle he used as a distraction.

The almost disinterested expression.

Even the steady exhales lifting his chest.

She stared at his eyes, like she could see right through him, and that’s where she found the truth. That every stroke of her hands put him a little closer to snapping; that it felt almost too fucking good to breathe.

Control was Vaslav’s favorite thing. An unspoken expectation in every aspect of his life. He had no other choice than to be this way because when he was stripped of his control ... It was the one thing that once lost, so was he—entirely gone.

He should be concerned with the way the Vicodin was already churning badly with the vodka in his gut, but because all the blood in his fucking brain had gone straight to his cock, well ... did it really matter?

“Come here,” he demanded, adding only in a grunt, “Closer, Vera.”

Her rhythm working his cock was unsteady as she lifted to tilt her head into his opened, offered palm. He caught her under her throat, yanking her up for a vicious kiss that didn’t even allow her to breathe between his tongue cutting past her parting lips. He wanted one more taste of her, and as he shoved her back to her knees without ever taking his hand away from the underside of her jaw, he could still see where the roughness of his beard had left her soft mouth a little red.

“Now can I?” she asked again, adding the whispered, “Please?”

His hand shifted just enough that his thumb could stroke over her lips, and she sucked the tip of the digit inside a teasing cocoon of wetness and heat. Withdrawing his thumb from her mouth to leave her bottom lip glossy when he traced it again, his hand then slipped around to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. She whimpered when he fisted the strands, but then let out a breathless laugh.

“Now,” she said.

“Now,” he agreed.

He pulled her down, the strands of hair he hadn’t caught in his fist pooling in his lap like the kiss of a soft feather while the silken warmth of her mouth engulfed the head of his dick. Her teeth edged around the tip, and then she sucked hard before the pressure of his hand moved her lower.

“Did I say I wanted to see you swallow me whole?” he asked gruffly, lust thickening in his throat. “I fucking should have.”