Page 33 of Stalk Me

But not yet. I want her falling apart, boneless and shaking, before I let myself find release.

“You like it rough, don’t you,malishka?” I tug her hair, forcing her head back to expose the delicate line of her throat. “Want Daddy to mark you?”

“Please.” She arches her back, offering her neck. “Mark me, Daddy. Claim me.”

Gripping her hip hard enough to leave bruises, I slam into her, finding that spot again and again. She’s so tight, milking my cock, and I know I won’t last much longer. The knowledge that she affects me this way that I’m losing control, only fuels my desire.

“Mine,” I growl, nipping at her throat. “All mine, baby.”

Her fingers dig into her palms, back bowing as she gasps my name. Her walls flutter around me, her orgasm ripping a primal groan from my throat. I bury myself inside her, marking her as only I can.

“That’s it,malishka. Come all over Daddy’s cock.”

Her cries echo off the walls. I feel her slick heat pulsing around me, milking my release. With a low growl, I surrender to the pleasure, spilling myself into her.

Sated, I lean against her, nuzzling her neck. She turns her head, capturing my mouth in a soft, languid kiss. Her taste is still on my lips, the sweet tang of her desire.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs against my mouth, smiling.

I chuckle. “Get used to it,malishka. You’re mine now.”

I withdraw and turn her to face me, my hands cupping her face. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright with lingering pleasure. The sight of her disheveled and marked by my hands with her lips swollen from our kisses stirs something deep in my chest.

I brush her bottom lip before my mouth descends on hers, taking what’s mine. This kiss differs from the others—slower, deeper, and filled with promises of more. The sensation of her hands ascending my chest, finally burying themselves in my hair, draws a growl from me.

I pour everything I can’t say into the kiss, but her soft sigh tells me she understands.

When she breaks contact, her lips are curved in a content smile. I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in.

“Open your eyes,malishka,” I murmur. “Look at me.”

Those golden-green eyes flutter open, meeting mine. The trust I see there nearly brings me to my knees. Especially as I’m the last man she should trust. I’ve infiltrated her life and privacy without her knowledge because she’s burrowed so deep under my skin that I can’t get her out.

14

SOFIA

Ishift in the plush leather seat, conscious of Nikolai’s firm grip on my thigh. His touch sends sparks through my body, reminding me of our passionate encounter at the gallery. My skin still tingles where he marked me.

“You’re quiet,malishka.” His low voice breaks through my thoughts.

I glance at his profile, admiring how the passing streetlights cast shadows across his sharp features. “Just processing.”

His fingers tighten possessively. “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” I reply. “It’s just that this isn’t like me.”

“Isn’t it?” His eyes search mine in the dim light. “I think this is exactly who you are. You’ve just been hiding.”

My heart races at his words. He sees through my carefully constructed facade with unnerving accuracy. The gallery encounter replays in my mind—how quickly my control shattered under his touch, how desperately I needed him.

The car glides through Boston’s streets, each mile bringing us closer to his penthouse. I study our reflection in the tinted window—his commanding presence next to my smaller frame, his hand claiming me. The contrast shouldn’t thrill me this much.

“Your pulse is racing.” His thumb strokes the inside of my thigh. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” I admit, seeing no point in lying. “But not scared.”

That barely there curve of his lips appears. “Good girl.”

---