Page 150 of Bride By Coronation

I murmur, "How's my husband?"

His lips twitch. "I don't have any complaintsright now."

I smirk. "No?"

"Nope." He kisses me deeper.

"What about now?" I tease, sliding on top of him and then sinking over his erection.

"Fuck, Fiona," he mumbles against my lips, adding, "You're going to make me get used to waking up like this."

I softly giggle and then dig my knees into the mattress on either side of him, taking as much of him inside me as possible. I whimper at the stretch and fullness.

He slides his hand to the curve of my breast, teasing my nipple, then moving it higher until it's brushing my throat.

Tingles explode down my spine. I warn, "Don't torture me."

One finger at a time pushes against my clavicle, as if it's a row of piano keys. He releases his hand in my hair and grabs my hip, moving me faster over him.

"Yes," I breathe, returning to his lips, feeling my body light up.

"So fucking wet, little bird," he says, then presses harder against my neck.

I moan, and a quiver runs to my core.

Retreating from our kiss, he studies me, pressing one finger at a time harder than before.

"Please," I beg, pinning him with a challenging, desperate stare.

A flush crawls up his cheeks. He grits his teeth, continuing to study me with curiosity, pressing his fingers harder and thrusting deeper.

Tingles explode in all my cells, and adrenaline pools to the point I feel like I can't handle it. "Kirill! Please," I beg, needing the rush of the high.

He continues to play my neck like a piano, banging on the keys, studying me more intensely as his cock slides faster against my walls, tormenting me further.

"Kirill," I choke out.

"Patience, my queen," he warns, slowing his thrusts.

My cells buzz with life. I close my eyes, begging, "Please. I-I need it."

"Open your eyes," he orders.

I obey.

He tilts his head, torturing me.

A wave of heat rolls over me, and sweat beads on my skin. I'm buzzing with anticipation as I attempt to move faster.

He doesn't let me, holding my hip firmly, taunting, "A queen obeys her king, little bird. You'll come slowly at first." He strokes his thumb over my pulse, gliding his cock in and out of me at a controlled speed.

"Please," I plead, on the verge of euphoria.

"Shh. Your king has you," he murmurs, kneading my pulse.

The adrenaline reaches its limit, slowly flooding my entire existence until I'm convulsing. My eyes roll, and I cry out, "I-I…oh God!" I tip my head back, but it can't move far in his grasp.

"Beautiful bride," he praises, keeping steady.

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