Page 48 of Sinful Embers

Her name is a growl in my throat as I take her breast in my mouth, teasing her nipple with my tongue. Her back arches, pressing herself into me, her body pleading for more without a single word.

I’m more than happy to oblige.

My hands roam lower, fingers tracing the dip of her waist, the soft swell of her hips. She’s warm, wet, ready. I spread herthighs, my fingers teasing, circling, until she gasps, her body trembling beneath me.

She’s already close, already lost in the sensation, but I want to take my time. I slide a finger inside her, groaning as she grips me, desperate, tight. Another joins, stretching her, stroking slow, deep and slightly bent, hitting the spot just right to ensure pleasure.

She shatters.

A sharp gasp before her body tenses and her release is all-consuming. I watch, mesmerized, as she breaks apart beneath me, her thighs trembling, her breath uneven.

Only then do I push inside her, sinking deep, filling her completely.

She gasps, her hands clutching at my shoulders, nails pressing into my skin. For a second, I don’t move—just savor the feeling of being buried inside her, of claiming her in the most primal way.

Then Ido.

I use slow, deliberate thrusts at first, then harder, deeper, until we’re lost in it—chasing the inevitable, a raw, unrelenting rhythm that neither of us can control.

Her body grips me, tight, perfect, pulling me deeper with every movement. Her nails drag down my back, her moans broken, breathless, each one unraveling whatever restraint I have left.

She’s close again—I can feel it in the way her pussy tightens around my throbbing cock, and the way she gasps my name like a prayer.

“Come for me,” I murmur against her ear.

And she does.

A strangled cry, her release pulling me over the edge with her, my own pleasure blinding, unstoppable as I fill her with my seed.

I don’t let go.

Her legs stay locked around me, her body still trembling, still wrapped in the heat of our release.

But just as satisfaction starts to settle—

Everything changes.

Leigh’s moans twist into something else.

A broken sob. A cry for help.

I blink, but she’s not beneath me anymore.

She’s strapped to a cold metal table.

Exposed.

Writhing—but not from pleasure.

Terror shines in her green eyes.

“Radomir, please… help me.”

I lunge for her—

But I can’t move.

A cruel laugh echoes around me.

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