Page 92 of Falling for the Enemy

I’m silenced when he takes the front of my dress in both hands and rips it halfway down the center, baring my tits to his greedy gaze. I hiss, my nipples immediately pebbling.

“Did he touch you?”

I shake my head, my blonde locks tickling the tops of my shoulders. “Nyet. If he did, you would’ve been plucking my knife from his bleeding corpse instead of dragging me up the stairs like a rabid caveman.”

His large hand circles my jaw.

Touch firm but not painful, he lifts my face before wasting no time in slamming his ravenous mouth against mine, the collision bruising. Tongue slipping past my lips in search of my own, he takes command of the kiss we share as his hands finish ripping my dress, exposing my entire front to him.

I moan into him, thighs clenching.

At the sound, he breaks away, tearing himself from me before I’m ready. I suck in a gulp of air, my lungs starving as I claw at his dress shirt, untucking it and tearing buttons free of the fabric simultaneously.

Adept fingers—his—swiftly undo his leather belt, then free his cock. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip when his khui bobs in the air, the drops of moisture beading on his crown a beacon for my watering mouth.

With effort and a well-placed palm to his now bare chest, I shove him back. Caught off guard, he stumbles before catching himself.

Jaw clenching, he comes right back for me. “You think you can escape—”

I slide off the desk and drop to my knees, taking him by surprise. “You once told me that if I ever pulled a knife on you again, I’d better be prepared to apologize by getting on my knees.”

I take his khui in my hand.

“I may not have pulled a knife on you yet”—the look I shoot at him screams maybe later—“but this is me apologizing all the same, da.”

“Apologizing for what?”

Despite the lust that crashes through my veins, heating every inch of my sweat-slicked skin, traces of both regret and guilt assail me. “For not telling you the truth sooner.” I tighten my grip when he pumps into my hand, pre-cum spilling onto my fingers.

“What truth?” Another pump; more clenching of his jaw. “Hurry up and explain, Hermosa, because I’m seconds from losing my mind and—”

“The one where I admit I’m in love with you.”

He freezes, his hips stalling mid-thrust. “Am I dreaming, or did you just confess to loving me while kneeling, your lips an inch from my cock?”

I shrug. “I thought you would enjoy—”

Stabbing his hand into my hair, he clenches it in his fist. “You were correct. Now open your mouth and suck my cock like a good girl, Ari.”

So demanding.

With a grin, I part my lips for him, flicking my tongue over his tip as I glide my hand along his shaft, gently twisting on the ascent. Slow at first, then gradually picking up speed.

“Fuck!”

The lone curse echoes around the room when I open wider and take him in, his khui’s crown sliding deep. His hand shakes in my hair when I swallow, milking him with my throat.

His size is almost too much.

I gag and pull back, spit coating his length and dripping down my chin. Heat fills my cheeks, along with my pussy, wetness soaking my sensitive flesh.

Palming his balls with my free hand, I swallow him once more as he fights to hold himself still.

It’s the last thing I wish for.

Cheeks hollowed, I pull back and release him with a pop, continuing to massage and pump him. “You wanted to punish me for binding you to your bed and setting fire to your property, so do it.” It’s like poking a famished bear with a stick. Consequences are coming. “Don’t hold back, Krasavchik. I can take whatever you give—”

His control snaps.

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