Page 32 of Tracking Shadows

He kisses a trail down my body, his lips brushing across my skin, igniting a trail of fire everywhere he touches. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly peels them away, his eyes never leaving mine.

"So beautiful," he murmurs in a low rumble. "All of you."

I shiver as the cool air brushes against my now-exposed core, and I feel the evidence of my desire, the dampness that has gathered between my legs.

He chuckles softly, a wicked, intimate sound. "I can smell how ready you are for me, kitten."

Then he's lowering his head, his warm breath fanning my sensitive skin, and I know where he's going, what he's about to do. I bite my lip, anticipation coiling tight within me. And then—oh, God! Then his tongue brushes against my clit, and I cry out, my hips bucking involuntarily.

He chuckles again, the vibration of it sending little shocks straight to my core.

"So responsive," he murmurs, and then he blows a gentle stream of air, and I moan, the sensation unlike anything I've ever experienced. He laps at me, his tongue skillful and knowing, and I can feel myself getting wetter, my body opening for him, inviting him in.

He adds his fingers, sliding them inside me, and I cry out again. He looks up at me as he moves his fingers, slowly at first and then with more purpose, his thumb continuing to stroke my clit.

There are the wet, squelching noises as his fingers move within me, the slick, lewd noises of his mouth on me, and my own shameless moans as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

I try to close my eyes, to lose myself in the pleasure, but he growls, low and rough. "Open your eyes, kitten. I want to see you when you come."

His command pushes me over the edge, and I cry out, my body tightening around his fingers as pleasure washes over me in wave after wave. I'm dimly aware of him continuing to thrust his fingers, milking my orgasm, drawing out every last sensation.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers, and I whimper at the loss, feeling boneless and replete. He sits back on his heels, a satisfied smile on his face, and slowly licks his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving mine. I moan at the sight, at the intimate knowledge that he now knows the taste of me as well.

He settles between my thighs, his knees bracketing my hips, and I can feel the tip of him, hard and insistent, nudging at my entrance. I reach down, wanting to guide him to where I need him, craving the feeling of him stretching me, filling me. He swears softly, a curse in Russian, and I look up, seeing the strain on his face, the way he's holding himself back.

"Alexei," I breathe, my hands moving to his hips, urging him forward. "Please."

He groans, a deep, primitive sound, and with one smooth thrust, he's inside, burying himself to the hilt. We both cry out—me at the sheer size of him, the intense pleasure as he stretches me, and him at the feeling of being enveloped by my heat.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my ankles locking together, holding him close, wanting him deeper still. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against mine, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

"You feel so damn good, kitten," he says. "But we need to take it slow. I don't want to hurt you."

I want to tell him that he's not hurting me, that the pleasure far outweighs any discomfort, but before I can, he begins to move, slowly at first, setting a leisurely pace. But I want more, need more, and I urge him on, my hands on his chest, my hips pushing to meet his. He groans again, a deep, tortured sound, and his pace quickens, the bed creaking in time with our increasing rhythm.

And then, with a particularly forceful thrust, he hisses, his eyes squeezing shut, and he pulls out, making me whimper at the sudden loss.

"Why don't you ride me," he rasps.

I do as he says, straddle his lap as soon as he sits down, and he guides himself back inside me, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

I let out a keening moan; the sensation of being so full of him, in this position, is almost overwhelming.

"Move," he growls, his hands guiding my hips in a slow, torturous circle.

I lift myself up and slowly sink down, taking him in, inch by exquisite inch. A strangled groan tears from his throat, and he reaches up, his hands splaying across my breasts, his thumbs grazing my sensitive nipples.

I start to move, tentatively at first, unsure of the angle, but soon, I find a rhythm that has pleasure sparking through me. I lift and fall, my breath coming in short gasps, and he sits up, his hands moving to my hips, guiding me, helping me find the right pace.

"That's it, kitten. Just like that."

My breath quickens, my movements becoming more urgent as pleasure builds within me. "Alexei," I moan, my head falling back as I ride him, my body seeking release.

"Yes, kitten, I've got you," his hands tighten on my hips, helping me find a faster, more frenzied pace.

I can feel my orgasm building, coiling tight within me, and I know I'm close, so very close. Alexei's eyes are fixed on mine. I cry out, my body tightening around him as I shatter into a million pieces, my release claiming me.

He groans, his hands squeezing my hips as he feels my climax, and then, with a few sharp thrusts of his hips, he follows me over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buries himself deep inside me.

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