Page 44 of Lethal Saint

She whined, nodding fast. I kissed her again, addicted to the sweetness and tang of strawberry milkshake, greedy for every sip of her, every press of her tongue, every demanding brush of her lips. When she caught my lip between her teeth, learning from me, I almost came in my pants.

She had me in the palm of her hand, had me completely under her rule, and my heart beat so fast I expected it to crack my rib cage and fly free.

“My beautiful girl. My gorgeous, gorgeous wife,” I breathed when she released my lip, shuddering against me. “Are you going to come again, Vasilisa Marshall?”

She grunted. It was the sexiest sound I’d heard yet.

I slid my fingers up and down her clit, watching tension ripple through her body, starting at her shoulders and flowing all the way to her legs as they snapped around me. Oh, fuck. She ensnared me, trapped me against her, and need tightened my gut, my balls fuckingaching.

“Is that a yes?” I pressed, needy, obsessive. “Is my queen going to come? Is my wife going to cover my fingers with cum, like she covered my tongue? You taste fucking incredible. Like sin and salvation and starlight.”

She screwed her eyes shut, nodding rapidly. My chest swelled with satisfaction. I was doing this to her, making her come apart. Me. Her husband.

She threw her head back. The long, elegant column of her throat was like a lure, drawing me into a dark ocean. I didn’t care if I drowned; I fastened my lips to her throat, sucking a possessive mark onto pale, unblemished skin, and lost my fucking mind when she cried out so loudly it echoed off the ceiling, and came all over my fingers.

I switched up my technique, blurring my fingers over her throbbing clit as she came, and the noise she let out was so loud and sexy that my teeth grazed her throat, animalistic instinct telling me to bite.

When she panted, in the final shudders of her orgasm, I glided a finger down to her entrance, biting back a groan when her clenching muscles sucked it inside.

“Fuck, Vasya.”

She inhaled sharply, her eyes flying open when I eased a second finger inside her, being as gentle as the need driving me to madness would allow.

“You wanna use your safeword, my queen?” I rasped.

“Don’t stop,” she rushed out, her fingernails still embedded in my forearm. I wanted to ink the halfmoon marks there forever. “I feel so good.”

“That’s my girl,” I breathed, surprised by the violent shudder that made her thighs shake around me, her boobs jiggling in the bodice of her dress. Did my wife have a praise kink?

I kissed my way up her body, furious about the fabric in my way, and said, “You’re doing so fucking good for me, coming so beautifully and now taking my fingers.”

Her breathing became choppy; her pussy took my fingers all the way, and goddamn, her heat was insane.

“Eyes on me,” I ordered gently, my cock twitching when she immediately followed the instruction. Her eyes widened, a blaze of shock and panic and pleasure crossing her face when I scissored my fingers inside her. “Such a fucking good girl,” I groaned. “Stretching so well for your husband.”

Her other hand shot up to her mouth, and I was fucking delighted to see her teeth sink into her skin. Her eyes never left my face. I stroked my fingers over her inner walls, learning the places that made her eyes flare, her breathing hutch. She let out the hottest, choked off sounds when I stretched her, each time her panic lessening, her pleasure growing.

“Beautiful,” I breathed, letting her see the reverence and possessiveness in my eyes. “Beautiful andmine.”

Her head fell back against the wall.

“Do you like that, my queen?” I asked, stroking her slowly. “Do you like being mine? Or do you like your husband being possessive of you?”

She whimpered, a deep tremor going through her thighs on either side of me. I didn’t expect her to speak, but she breathed, “Both.”

I had no control over the breathy growl that escaped me. Her face tilted up, a plea in her eyes, and I surged forward to answer it, kissing her roughly.

“Does my good girl want her husband’s cock?” I asked, dragging my mouth along her jaw and down her throat.

“Oh, god,” she whined.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes!” she answered, loud with impatience and frustration.

I laughed and kissed the pout on her mouth, sliding my fingers from her dripping pussy. Her outraged growl sent a thrill down my spine.

“Mm,” I murmured, lifting her off the counter and setting her on her feet, holding on until I was sure she was steady. “I think you enjoyed having my fingers inside you.”

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