Page 49 of Under His Control
Instead, her hands settle on my chest, fingertips skimming down the lines of muscle. “What if I don’t want to?”
I take a step forward, backing her against the wall of the pool, her breath coming faster now. Every curve of her body gleams beneath the water. The cups strain around her breasts, the fabric pulled taut over soft, perfect skin.
“You’re so beautiful like this.”
She swallows, her voice quiet. “You think I’m beautiful?”
I let my eyes drag slowly over every inch of her. “Taylor, I think you’re perfect.”
Her lips part, and for a beat, neither of us moves. Heat simmers, thick and aching. She’s trembling for me and it’s intoxicating.
I lean in slowly, letting my breath brush her lips. Her lashes lower as my hand cups her jaw, fingers threading into her damp hair.
And then I kiss her.
Not hard. Not yet. Just enough to taste the want between us. To feel her melt against me. To let her know this is no game.
She’s mine. She kisses me back like she knows it.
She exhales my name. I slide my hand downward to her already slick folds. I keep the rhythm deliberate, thumb steady, fingers coaxing, no hurry. She moans, the vibration thrumming through the water, through me.
She shudders at my touch, pressure coiling tighter and tighter until—release. Her hips roll helplessly, a ripple of pleasure crashing through her.
She clings to the edge, panting, cheeks flushed. I slip a knee between her legs and press. “Tell me what you need.”
She runs her nails through my wet hair, pulling me closer until her teeth graze my lower lip. “You. Hard. No speeches.”
“Understood.” I lift her onto the underwater bench, water swirling around her waist. Forcing her feet wide, I rip her bottoms off and slide two fingers deep inside her, curling to stroke the spot that makes her eyes flare. She locks onto my stare, defiance flickering, surrender waving underneath.
“Anatoly…” Her voice splinters when my thumb circles her clit. I watch the tension build—a storm pulling power from everynerve. “Ride it,” I order. She obeys, hips grinding against my hand. The second orgasm hits fast and fierce. She clamps around my fingers, breath caught on a silent cry. I don’t let up until the tremors fade.
She slumps forward, half laughing, half cursing. “Who taught you that?”
“I’m self-motivated.” I sweep her into my arms, water sluicing off taut muscles. At the steps, the pool barely kisses our calves. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I line up, pushing in slow, feeling her wetness around me. The sensation steals our breath, and we curse in unison.
"God, you feel so good," she moans.
I drag my hands up her thighs, gripping the lush curve of her hips, driving into her with slow, brutal strokes that make her shudder. Water surges over the edge with every relentless thrust, but I barely register it. All I see is her—dark, damp hair clinging to her temples, skin flushed and glistening, full breasts bouncing with every plunge.
She rides me like she owns me.
Maybe she does.
"Anatoly," she gasps, nails digging into my shoulders, desperate. "Faster. Harder."
I growl low in my throat, obeying without hesitation. I drive into her relentlessly—my pace vicious, greedy—giving her everything she demands and everything I need.
Her chest slides against mine, slick friction sparking every nerve ending like dry timber catching fire. She peppers kisses along myjaw, my neck, her teeth grazing my throat in frantic little nips that make me curse under my breath.
"You take me so well," I rasp, burying a hand in her hair to drag her mouth to mine. "So fucking good, little wife."
Her answering whimper goes straight to my cock. I slip a hand between us, thumb pressing hard against her throbbing clit. She jerks, strangled sounds spilling from her lips.
"Finish," I demand against her mouth. "Now."
She shatters on a broken moan, her body locking down around me like a velvet fist, her nails carving half-moon crescents into my shoulders as her climax rips through her. I lose it on the next thrust, hips grinding up into her, spilling deep, my growl swallowed by her kiss.
The Strip blazes in the morning sun but nothing in the city burns hotter than the woman gasping my name as she collapses against my chest.
