Page 18 of Hostage with Benefits

The second orgasm hit so much harder than the first, leaving me trembling and incoherent. Still, he continued, adding a third finger, stretching me in preparation for what I hoped would come next.

By the time he finally moved up my body, I was a limp, quivering mess. He untied my wrists, rubbing the marks gently before positioning himself between my thighs.

“Look at me,” he commanded as he pushed his cock inside.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, meeting his gaze as he filled me completely. There was something in his eyes beyond lust, a kind reverence and vulnerabilityI didn’t expect.

He started moving with deliberate strokes, his thick cock hitting spots that sent aftershocks of pleasure through my oversensitized body. When I wrapped my legs around him, urging him deeper, his control began to slip.

“Natalia,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “You feel?—”

Whatever I felt like was lost as he captured my mouth in a bruising kiss. I tasted myself on his lips, the sheer obscenity of it making me clench around him.

He broke the kiss with a curse, his movements growing more erratic. I felt myself building toward a third impossible peak, my body responding to his as if we’d been made for exactly this.

“You’re going to come again,” he growled in my ear, reaching between us to circle my clit. “This cunt is mine, and I need her to milk me for all I’ve got.”

The command in his voice, the pleasure bordering on pain, the look in his eyes, the smell of his cologne drowning out every thought in my mind, all of it combined to push me over the edge once more.

I’d forgotten how to breathe. I came, gasping for air, my pussy clenching around his cock, and he followed right after, spilling his cum deep inside.

He collapsed beside me, pulling me against his chest. For a long while, we lay in silence, our breathing gradually slowing. The skin between my thighs was sticky with a mixture of cum from both of us, but he wouldn’t let me leave the bed. His hand traced patterns on my back, occasionally pausing, then following up with a kiss.

As I was falling sleep, I heard him murmur something in Russian against my hair. I couldn’t quite catch the words though.

My last coherent thought before sleep claimed me was that my therapist would have a field day with this. Why was I finding comfort in the arms of my kidnapper? But then again, therapy had never felt as good as three orgasms in a night.

CHAPTER 5

I foundGalina in the kitchen the following morning, already deep in breakfast preparations. She gave me a knowing look that made me wonder if the entire household had heard last night's activities.

“Good morning, Miss Petrova,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “You sleep well?”

“Fine,” I mumbled, heading straight for the coffee pot.

“Mr. Volkov has business today,” she informed me. “Important meeting about the shipment.”

My ears perked up at that. “The stolen shipment? That my father stole?”

Galina's expression turned guarded. “I told you I do not discuss business.”

“But you know about it.”

She shrugged, turning back to the stove. “I know everything in this house.”

“Including what's between me and Mikhail?” I couldn't help asking.

A smile spread across her face. “Especially that. Walls not so thick as Mr. Volkov thinks they are, you know.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Great.”

“It is normal,” she said matter-of-factly. “Healthy young people with feelings, of course there is passion.”

“We don't have feelings,” I protested automatically.

Galina snorted. “Americans always need silly labels. Always need an explanation for the heart.”

“This isn't about my heart,” I insisted. “It's about being kidnapped and developing inappropriate feelings for my captor.”

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