Page 88 of Unveiled

"Fucking hell." I breathe.

His lips curve into a wolfish grin that makes my sex pulse. "You like that, Anya, don't you? Admit it—you like it.”

I plant my hands on the flat of the steel table, spread my legs, and nod, beckoning him closer.

"I fucking love it. I want you, Semyon."

His control breaks. I want to touch him, but I'm holding onto the table for dear life. It gives me a sort of power when he slides between my legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. Oh my god.

Neither one of us wants to yield, but right now, we're equals, giving and taking. Then his mouth is on mine, devouring, and I lose myself in him. He drags my butt to the edge of the table, keeps my legs spread apart, and unbuckles his belt. I sit up, holding myself upright while I reach for his belt, helping him. We can't move fast enough. I'm afraid if I don't let him take control right now, I might change my mind, and I can't do that. I won't.

It takes both of my hands to take his thick, hot cock from his pants and slide it between my legs. My head falls back atthe first slow thrust, the tip of his cock at my center. "Semyon."

He pushes into me, and this time, it doesn't hurt as much as it did before. This time, it feels so good, so right, as if we're meant to be like this together. I feel like a woman. A full-fledged woman. Not Eli's little sister. Not Semyon’s best friend's sister.

Anya Kopolova.

The walls of my pussy tighten around the thick edges of his cock.

"Tell me you like it," he murmurs in my ear.

I bite my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He pulls almost all the way out, and I moan, reaching for him, arching toward him. I want him back.

"Tell me you want this," he whispers. "Tell me you fucking want this."

"Fine," I grit out. "I want this. I want you. I want us. I want all of it. Fuck me, Semyon."

"That's my girl," he growls. "That's my good girl."

He shoves into me again, and it feels so fucking right. I swear that when his cock hits the back of my cervix, I feel a full-body shudder. Again, he pulls almost all the way out before he slides back in again and again, building a rhythm with friction that makes me want to scream. My fingers dig into his back—scratching, begging, pleading. It's dirty and fulfilling. All I can think of is how much I want more.

He fucks me until I scream his name, until the walls of my pussy clench, and I come, andhecomes inside me, his hotseed spilling. I lean back, sated, my clit still throbbing when he falls to his knees and removes his glasses.

Oh my god. He means business when he slides them off.

My mouth is open in a silent gasp as he drags his tongue, hard and flat, across my clit. It feels so wrong, so dirty.

"Semyon—" My fingers grip the edge of the table, white-knuckled. I’m panting, moaning.

He doesn't stop but eats me out, suckling me, and I’m on the cusp of another orgasm. I come again—harder—crying out, my hands diving into his hair, anchoring myself for support, screaming. Then I slump back on the table, spent and exhausted.

But he's not done yet.

I watch as he gets a wicked grin and walks slowly, fully clothed, to the refrigerator. I’m too drunk to ask what the fuck he’s doing, but I don’t trust that smile.

He opens it and takes out a bottle of whipped cream. Usually I make my own, but we keep this on hand for emergencies. I'm boneless, barely holding myself on the edge of the table, when he comes back over to me.

How is he still walking right now?

He kneels, removes my apron, and cleans me up. I watch him drizzling a line of cream across the top of my thighs. "Dessert time."

He sucks the cream off and licks my clit. I'm so sensitized, having just come, my hips jerk, and I shake my head.

"No. No, too much."

But then he slows his roll ever so slightly, touching the tip of his tongue to my swollen, sensitive clit. So softly, so gently. And I want more. So much more. I'm drunk on adrenaline and pheromones. All I can think of ismore.

He laps at the cream again lazily, hungrily, sucking my clit into his mouth and then pushing me to the edge until I'm swollen, begging, needy.

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