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He finally picks up the pace, his hips snapping against mine, an unyielding rhythm that sends shockwaves rippling through me down to my toes. He leans down, capturing a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. Then he nuzzles my neck and presses a kiss to my throat. I arch my back, making his cock slide deeper inside me.
A groan rips from his throat as my pussy clenches around his cock. I lift my hips to meet every thrust of his. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, matching mine. His movements become faster and harder, pounding into me as he brings me to the edge of my orgasm. He shifts his angle slightly, grinding his pelvis against my clit on the downstroke, and the sensation whites out my vision.
“I’m…I’m going to come,” I gasp. Tingles shoot through each of my limbs, and my core tightens in anticipation of my release. Locking my legs at my ankles, I pull him as deep as I can, wanting to feel every inch of him inside me.
“Come for me,” he orders, rolling his thumb over my clit. The room explodes into vibrant colors as my release rips through me with the force of a freight train. I scream, a raw, ragged sound that tears at my throat, and my back bows off the bed.
“Yess!” I cry out, riding the waves of pleasure.
He drives into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt, so deep I can feel him kissing the entrance of my womb. He stills, his whole body going rigid, and then he roars. I feel the hot pulse of his cum painting my insides, spurt after spurt of thick, liquid heat filling me up. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of him claiming me from the inside out.
His hips jerk involuntarily with each pulse, draining every last drop. He collapses on top of me then, his heavy weight pinning me to the mattress, his face buried in the crook of my neck. We’re both gasping for air, chests heaving, hearts pounding a frantic duet against each other’s ribs.
I can feel his cock twitching inside me as it begins to soften. I stare up at the ceiling, my vision slowly clearing, my body limp and boneless in the aftermath. I can still feel the ghost of the pleasure, a lingering echo that makes my muscles twitch randomly.
Alexei lifts his head, his blue eyes locking onto mine. They’re softer now, the fierce hunger from earlier giving way to something tender and content. He brushes damp hair away from my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
He kisses me deeply, tasting himself on my tongue. I melt against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer.
“I love you, Alexei.”
“I love you too.” He brushes a kiss across my forehead. “And now that I have you, I'm never letting you go. Anyone who tries to come between us will regret it.”
I smile. “You sound awful sure of yourself.”
“I am.” He tips my chin up until I have no choice but to look at him. “You're mine, Maggie. In every way that matters. Nothing in this world is taking you away from me.”
My heart squeezes. “Good,” I whisper. “Because I don't plan on going anywhere.”
We stay tangled together for a long while, neither of us in any hurry to move.
I trace absent circles across his chest while the early morning sunlight peeks through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Neither of us has managed to fall back asleep, but honestly, I don't mind. The quiet feels precious these days.
“Ivy's rehearsal starts at three,” I murmur, resting my chin against his shoulder.
Alexei nods once, his fingers gliding slowly up and down my back. “Luka wants us there by two thirty.”
I lift my head to look at him. “You realize this is a dance rehearsal, right? Not a presidential summit.”
“There will be enough security,” he replies evenly, as if we're discussing the weather.
“Alexei.”
“Plainclothes only.”
I prop myself on one elbow and narrow my eyes at him. “How many?”
He remains suspiciously silent.
“Oh, for heaven's sake.” I push myself upright, clutching the sheet against my chest. “These are six-year-olds in tutus.”
“Children aren’t the concern.”
The seriousness in his voice wipes the teasing right off my face. I search his face, noticing the hard set of his jaw and the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
“You still think somebody might come after Ivy,” I whisper.
For several seconds, he says nothing. His attention remains on the ceiling, and something inside me sinks.
