Page 32 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
Suddenly, he rears back and feels along the mattress until he finds something long… His belt. I stiffen, alarm battling the lust turning my brain to mush. “W-What are you…”
He takes my hands, bringing them together. Then he wraps the length of the belt around them both and ties it tight, binding me. Restraining me.
And the fact of him robbing me of the ability to even touch him does something weird to my head. I’m boiling. He grates out another foreign curse, rocking his hips as if to stave off his release—but he can’t. He’s thickening inside me, setting off a chain reaction that boils my blood and has me screaming. Never have I ever come so hard in my life. My toes curl, my back arching off the bed, my body rippling around him like a vice.
It goes on and on and on. When I finally come down, I’m murmuring senseless praise that makes him shudder.
“So good. So good. Please more. Please. Please.”
He withdraws from me so violently it hurts. I moan, struck dumb with shock only to find myself shoved onto my stomach as his weight pins me from behind. Again, he slams in, still rock hard.
But this angle…
Everything feels enhanced to the nth degree, and I cry out throatily in pleasure. It’s like he knows me from the inside out. How to create the most toe-curling friction. What spots to press. How to move. How to stop, leaving me quaking on the very edge of sanity.
Just when I’m about to tip over, he hisses out something too grated for me to interpret. A curse? His hand falls over my ass, squeezing hard. Then he withdraws and then rapidly brings his palm down, resulting in a stinging slap.
Again.
Again.
“Never,” he snarls in a tone I’ve yet to hear from him. “Never wanted to chastise a woman. But you…” Another smack makes me writhe into the contours of his hand, extending the contact. “You demand to be punished.”
“So punish me,” I blurt. Or at least, I would if I was in control of my brain enough to adequately transfer the command to my mouth. I moan instead, rocking into his next tentative thrust.
I feel like I’m burning alive.
My only salvation is the relief that comes from release, and I slavishly chase it. Eventually, he regains his brutal rhythm, driving me across the mattress with each wrenching thrust. Ultimately my upper body is left leaning over the edge of the bed, and I’m staring dazedly at the floor as he finally groans and his cock thrums against my battered walls.
Somehow, I manage to twist around to watch him, and I promptly rocket to cloud nine all over again. With his head thrown back, throat cording around a groan, he looks so beautiful it hurts. His hooded eyes meet mine, and I’m shocked at what I find swirling within them. Pleasure mixed with hesitant relief.
Like he didn’t think it was possible to feelthisgood.
This free.
Like sex—despite his obvious prowess—is a novel experience to him, he’s only recently discovered.
In this brief second, he looks at me like he’s never come this hard or for this long…
For anyone.
And I know as a logical part of me reforms and urges a warning that I need to get my ass back to California. As soon as possible.
He is the most dangerous man I’ve ever met—and I’m enjoying that way too much.
Chapter Twelve
“Ilove this wine!” I brandish my third glass at Vadim and open my mouth for the forkful of pasta he amusedly shoves into it. “And I love this food,” I murmur in ecstasy, my eyes threatening to roll.
We’re in bed again. Together. A bad idea, but I’m drunk, so who cares?
He’s naked, lying beside me with a plate of lukewarm pasta between us, and a bottle of the amazing wine propped up on a pillow nearby. I wiggle my sore limbs, stretching as I watch him sample his own much smaller bite of pasta.
“You have such a beautiful mouth,” I gush mournfully. “What a shame you won’t get to use it on me before I leave.”
I’m surprisingly devastated by the idea. To drown my sorrows, I sip more of my wine and distract myself with the contours of his abs instead.
“You’re perfect,” I tell him, brushing my fingers along his right pec. “It’s unfair you’re so beautiful.”
