Page 157 of Terror at the Gates

“I don’t want another man to try,” I said. My face flushed so hot, I thought I might pass out. “I want you.”

He stared, silent, like he was waiting for more, but I had nothing else. I couldn’t be any clearer. So instead, I took off my shirt, dropping it to the floor. It was the only thing I had worn, and now I stood naked before him.

His eyes raked down my body, hands flexing at his sides. It took everything in me to stay upright, to not collapse beneath the weight of his gaze. He had never looked at me this way before, and I felt like maybe I had won, except that he remained still.

I scoffed quietly, shaking my head. “I can’t ever seem to get under your skin.”

Just fucking once, I wanted to know what it was like for this man to lose control.

His brows rose slightly as he crept close, crowding me. I tilted my head back to maintain his gaze, the only part of us that was connected.

“You don’t think you are under my skin?”

His voice set my heart on fire. Slowly, he threaded hisfingers into my hair, tightening his hold at the base of my skull. I let out an audible breath.

“You don’t think I carry you wherever I go? You are unshakable. Amenace. Sometimes, I think I would do anything to fuck it out of you, this goddamn defiance, even though it won’t work. Even though it’s what I adore most about you. I guess I just think it would be fun to try.”

I smiled, soft and teasing, though inside I felt like I was melting, and let my gaze drop to his lips, whispering, “Then maybe you should.”

He gave a breathless laugh, and I saw the moment he broke. It flashed in his eyes, a brilliant spark, just before our mouths and bodies collided. We staggered into the nightstand, but Zahariev caught us before we could fall. He dragged me up his body and moved us to the bed, grinding into me as we kissed. He was hard between my thighs, and it felt unfair that I was so naked and he was so clothed.

I tried removing his jacket, but he was in his own fucking world, devouring my mouth and the skin of my throat. I reached between us, fumbling for his belt, but he chose that moment to suck on my breast. I gasped, arching against him, capturing his head between my hands.

“Zahariev,” I breathed.

He glanced up and then released my nipple, pulling back, first to his knees, then to his feet.

I rose onto my elbows and watched him. I kept my knees bent and my legs parted, an open invitation to return. Zahariev stared with a raw sort of fascination. No part of me would go unwitnessed by him tonight.

“What’s wrong, Zahariev?” I teased. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

He met my gaze, and I regretted my words, suddenly unable to breathe as he replied, “Not like this.”

He took off his jacket and shirt, then tried to come back, but I stopped him, pressing my foot against his chest.

“Take them off,” I said. “Or are you afraid to show me your cock?”

He raised a brow, and his hands moved to his belt. I dropped my leg as he removed the rest of his clothing, and when he was completely naked, I sat up and reached for his swollen length, but Zahariev gripped my hand and then my jaw.

I glared up at his stupid, smirking face.

“I knew you’d be greedy,” he said, brushing his thumb over my pouting lips. “But I’m going down first.”

“Who made you the boss?” I asked as he kneeled on the floor beside the bed.

“In this room,” he said, jerking me toward him, “I’m always the boss of you.”

I could have fought him for that position, but right now, I’d take anything he gave. I watched him press kisses against my inner thigh, inching closer to my aching flesh. Anticipation coiled through me, and I grew tense and warm, waiting.

“Fucking beautiful,” Zahariev murmured right before he kissed me, followed by the soft slide of his tongue. I moaned like no one had ever gone down on me before, but there was nothing like receiving it from someone I had wanted for so long.

He took his time tasting every part of me, licking and sucking. His method was deliberate and practiced, and it was either really fucking good, or I’d gone too long without sex, because I was panting and writhing on the bed. Myhands were everywhere: in my hair, twisted in the bedding, kneading my breasts.

I reached for him when he sucked my clit into his mouth and held him there, whispering words I couldn’t even comprehend. They were on the tip of my tongue, freed each time another hot wave of pleasure wove its way to my brain.

Zahariev must have liked the sound because he bore into me and thrust deeper, his skilled pace disrupted. His hands tightened around my thighs, fingers digging into my flesh. He wasn’t trying to keep me in one place; he was riding the wave with me, seeing this through to the very end.

I didn’t have long. I was almost there. All it took was another delicious pull of his mouth, and I erupted. My head fell back, eyes rolling. My hips came off the bed, and Zahariev followed, rising from the floor. I came so hard, I froze in an arch. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, body shuddering relentlessly. When it was done, I had no choice but to relax. My limbs were too heavy to lift.

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