Page 34 of The Breath Before Forever

“I like the grey ones best,” he said, referring to the color of her underwear. “You see how wet you get right from the start, biksa.”

“Calling me a slut in Russian just makes it sound better, doesn’t it?”

Vaslav’s laugh did the dirtiest things to her imagination when he tossed his head back, and his mouth stretched wide. She could practically imagine the way his laugh would feel rumbling against her pussy if he wasn’t so far away.

“You’re going to make me ruin this coat,” she whispered when he shoved his black boxer-briefs down before climbing up onto the bed. If she was wide open and he fucked her the way she knew he would—hard and unforgiving—then they were both going to leave a mess behind. One that her dignity and pride wouldn’t allow a dry cleaner to attempt to save.

“Surprise,” he murmured, showing his rows of white teeth as he shifted his hands just beyond her shoulders on the bed and loomed over her, “Mira’s hiding the second one I had ordered just in case. You’re not the only one with a kink for fur.”

Vera pouted. “We both know it’s morally apprehensible, Vas.”

And cruel.

“Who even asked?” he returned just as smug.

Vera reached between them, her hands circling his semi-hard shaft to stroke before he could tell her to do it. A hiss of air split through Vaslav’s lips the tighter her fingers became when she came up to the head of his cock. The only part of this man that was soft was the silken skin of his dick, and even that didn’t promise not to hurt a little when he fucked her just the way she liked.

That’s what made it extra good.

“Get me wet, and use me,” he demanded while his hot breath washed down the column of her throat, and he nuzzled at her neck.

She fit his hard cock under the gusset of her thong, and his shaft nestled between her wet folds. Her hand and his weight as he grinded her hips up and down inside her panties kept his cock right where she needed it to be. She was shamefully slick, but it aided the way he glided over the most sensitive parts of her body, and it took no time at all for the ties to be biting into her ankles with every jerky twitch of her legs. It drove her crazy to feel the way Vaslav hardened even more, leaving the marks of his lips and teeth behind on her throat as her moans melted into pants of short breaths.

He slipped inside her as she finally came.

All it took was a shift of his hips, and there he was, every thick inch of him slippery and hard as he filled her. His gentleness dissipated quickly then, while her pussy still clenched tight around his cock from her first orgasm, and he settled in deep.

Half of his weight came down on her. One of his hands helped to keep her pinned to the bed while his teeth found her jaw. She whined from the sharp nip of his teeth as his fingers wove with hers and he shoved their connected fists into the bed.

The sting from his bite was only soothed by the suckle of his lips and tease of his tongue over the same spot before he murmured, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

He held her tight to him.

Still so deep, too.

It was so easy to tell him what she liked because he did it all so fucking well, and enjoyed pulling every orgasm he could from her body while he did it. It pleased him, and that only turned her on more. She wasn’t ashamed to feel like a greedy slut who couldn’t get enough of a man; she was exactly that for Vas, and it didn’t bother her a bit.

“What, my kisska?” Vaslav asked, hoarse with his own anticipation. He did well to hold back from just going in on her the way he wanted to. Sometimes he did, and no matter what, he rode her hard, let her sleep well, and loved her softly in the mornings.

If they were good mornings for him, that was. Good meaning his migraines were gone, if not minor, or he wasn’t stuck in the bathroom on his knees.

If not, every step she took throughout the day, and the twinges that followed from where he held her too hard or otherwise, served their purpose to mark the man’s territory until he was back again. Her body was his—to use, please, or tease. She wore every tiny bruise and lovebite like she was the canvas, and those marks were his art.

Choke me; fuck me ... hurt me, she wanted to say, but every racing desire she let slip through her mind didn’t quite feel like enough.

“Love me,” she told him before his lips came down on hers for a fervent kiss.

God knew he would.

Vera only had one thought left for Vaslav to bleed away with the rest of her rationale and self-control: Happy New Year to me.

*

The rap of knuckles against the dining room table drew Vera’s head up from the pages of her latest book. As it turned out, Mira was also a big reader and had amassed quite a selection of novels in her set of suites on the third floor. While she had already filled her available shelves with books, the rest piled up on stands and in corners, all with cracked spines and dog-eared pages.

Vera’s favorite kind of book.

A well-loved one.