Page 20 of Scarlet Sins

“I’m fine.” I hold his head between my hands and kiss him again, his mouth warm, delicious, a whiskey taste which tells me he chose that over vodka while I was showering. And… the faintest hint of chocolate. “Sasha is fine.”

I kiss him once more, his lips parting and our tongues touching. It sends an electric pulse through me.

But I know why I haven’t told him yet about the baby. It’s his, and he’s got a right to know. I need answers, though.So I take a deep breath. “I think we should talk about Stefina?—”

“No, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

He kisses me, slow and soft and romantic, and it makes my head spin and my stomach perform flips.

Demyan lifts his head. “I said I’ve handled it. It’s all good, Erin. Now, unless you want to get ravaged, go back to bed.”

“I don’t want to go back to bed,” I say. “I want you.”

“Erin…”

“I want to feel something good. Your kind of good, Demyan.”

His gaze glitters. And then he kisses me hard, a deep, carnal kiss as he slides me down on the bed. His hand slips up my thigh. “Oh,Lyubimaya, wet and naked under my shirt, just what the doctor ordered.”

I laugh and bite his shoulder. “Your doctor or mine?”

He pulls back. “Yours. He said get her wet and willing and begging for sex.” The smug maleness of him makes me throb deep within and he stands, stripping slowly, and his gorgeous body, broad with all those carved muscles revealed to me.

I don’t think it’s a sight I’ll ever get sick of.

As he slides into bed, he takes me in his arms, his erection brushing me. But he’s in no hurry.

“If you’re up to it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against my ear.

A thrill washes through me. “With you, always.”

He smiles, and then he kisses me deep as he parts my thighs, dipping into the wetness there. Demyan starts to move down, clearly heading south under the covers, but I grip his hair, stopping him. “No. I need you. Hard and fast.”

“I don’t?—”

“You’re not going to hurt me.” I swallow. “I just want all those memories of being taken banished by you.”

And I draw him back in, kissing him.

He doesn’t need further encouragement. I don’t want romance right now. I want to be claimed, I need to be claimed by him, like he’s showing me how that other woman is gone and I’m his. That the marriage of convenience he brokered is now dead in the water, that he’s mine like I’m his.

Demyan’s mouth is hot, fierce, and he covers me, nudging my thighs farther apart as his rigid cock pushes into me, stretching me. I moan and bite his shoulder and he takes me hard. Each thrust cleanses me, makes me closer to him, and I wrap my thighs about him.

I lift my hips and with each slam he gets deeper, and my body tightens, the pleasure pulsating in me, needing freedom.

He’s not gentle. The savage thrusts are declarations of ownership. A claim. And I welcome each and every one.

My thoughts start to fracture as the pleasure builds inside, and soon it breaks, throwing me up into the orgasm, my release contracting hard on his cock in me, and it’s almost too much as he rises, thrusting deeper, making me shake and shudder and cry out. And then he comes, too, his hot seed filling me in spurts.

We collapse down and he kisses a path over me, pushing the T-shirt up to kiss and suck on my nipples, a sweet agony I welcome. Then he lifts his head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m with you,” I whisper. “Yes. Thank you, I needed… I needed that.”

I needed him.

He smiled, but the concern is in his eyes as he tucks me away in his arms. Exhaustion crushes down, and I drift off.

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