Page 26 of Knocked Up By the Russian

"Why did you stop?"

"Tell me this is what you need." He whispered kisses against her neck, and her blood simmered. "Tell me you want me."

His questions irritated her; the way he relentlessly tried to control everything grated on her nerves, and she reached for his hair. Tugging it until he bent to her will and kissed her on the mouth again. When he tried to pull away, frustration curled in her stomach, and she bit his bottom lip in retribution—hard—before she turned her kiss softer.

Ivan groaned into her mouth, and she let him go. His fingers bit into her thighs, and he leaned his forehead against hers as he lowered her feet to the floor. "I'm not going to continue until you answer the question, Mishka."

He sounded just as breathless as she felt, and the thought made her smile. "Why?" she asked, standing on her toes to trail softer kisses against his neck.

"Is this not enough?" she murmured, nibbling on his ear. His whole body shuddered in her arms, and the thought of bringing him to his knees made her feel powerful. "Why do you need to control everything, Vanya?"

Pulling away, she looked up at him, seeing his eyes squeezed shut, brow lined with frustration. Her fingers ached to soothe it. She wrapped her arms around his neck instead, and he let out a breath, arms around her waist. "Because I'm not going to fuck you just for you to use it against me the next time we fight."

His ocean-blue eyes were dark when he blinked them open and stared down at her. One of his hands reached toward her face, and she raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm nearly ten years older than you, Mishka, and I refuse to let you think sleeping with me is a mistake."

Would it be?The questions in her mind threatened to ruin the moment, but the hunger in his eyes quieted her head, and Amy bit her lips. What if she gave in? Just this once. Would that really be so bad?

"I want you to show me what it means to be your wife," Amy whispered, pressing her lips to his again. They only had six months anyway.

Chapter 12 - Ivan

"I want you to show me what it means to be your wife."

Her words echoed on repeat in his mind, and Ivan muffled a groan in the kiss. Amy didn't know what she was asking for. He bent to pick her up again, his cock throbbing in the cradle of her thighs as he walked toward the stairs. Need thrummed in his veins, making it difficult to concentrate. He wouldn't drop his little bear, though. His fingers tightened on her thighs, feeling her soft skin beneath his grip as she kissed and sucked on his neck, feeding fuel to the fire inside of him.

"You're mine," he muttered into her hair, squeezing his eyes shut as she rocked against him. He could've found his bed in his sleep; he'd walked this path dead drunk a few times before, but he stood on the landing, pressing her against the railing just to feel this a little longer, savoring the intoxicating blend of passion and desire.

"Ivan!" she squeaked, her cry echoing in the silence of his apartment as he bent to his knees, pulling her pajama shorts down with a jerk of his hand. Her back leaned against the railing, her gasps echoing in his ears as he spread her thighs.

"You shave," he muttered hoarsely, fingers running across the surface of her pussy. "So fucking beautiful."

Her whimpers sounded like music to his ears as he toyed with her, dipping his thumb into the wetness coating the lips of her pussy and spreading it around her clit. The movement made her hiss, and her fingernails dug into his head.

"Tell me you need this," he demanded, wanting to hear it from her lips again.

"I want this," she answered, her voice breathless as she spread her legs further. Like she was desperate for this... for him. He rewarded her efforts, pressing two fingers into her entrance and thrusting at an unhurried pace. She clenched around him with every inward thrust, her body fighting him the moment his fingers dragged out.

"I want this," she gasped, and then again, more fervently this time.

"Good girl," he mumbled, scissoring his fingers until her warm muscles gave in and he could add another finger on the next thrust.

"IVAN!" she squealed, tightening around him again. "Oh, fuck, that's too much!"

His scalp burned from her tugging, and he grinned, pressing kisses to her thighs. "Ride it out for me, Mishka. We're just getting started."

She whined deep in her throat, curling her body closer to him. "Tell me what I want to hear," he demanded, pulling his fingers out and sucking the wetness he pulled with him, his own need riding him dangerously high. He pushed them back inside her, eager to make her feel as crazy as he did.

"Tell me you like my fingers," he growled, watching her lust-drunk gaze. "Tell me you want my tongue in your pussy. Tell me you want me to kiss you and fuck you until you can't stand, Mishka, because I'm going to, but I need to hear you say it."

Her body shuddered, and her voice cracked as she replied, "Stop making promises and do it then."

Snickering at her defiance, he curled his fingers and bent to suck her clit into his mouth. She climaxed in seconds, her legstrembling as she gave a broken cry. Her body shuddered with pleasure. He wanted to see it again, no... feel it, on his cock.

Ivan sucked softly, savoring her squeak of, "Too much."

When he let her go, she was panting. He got to his feet, dragged her to his bed, and laid her out. Her legs spread wide enough for him to see the evidence of her arousal where it had started to drip down her thighs.

Amy stared at him, rosy-cheeked and lips parted, her vulnerability making him harder than ever.

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