Page 43 of Hostage of the Russian
When he finally pulled back, his mouth glistened, and his eyes were dark, ravenous.
“Still sure?” he asked, voice low.
She could barely speak. Could only nod, reaching for him.
“Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”
And when he slid up her body and finally, finally sank into her, slow and deep and perfect, it wasn’t just sex. It was surrender. A claiming. A homecoming.
It wasn’t with the urgency she’d expected, it was reverent. A slow, deliberate slide that had Azriel clinging to him, every nerve ending lit up, her body tightening around the hard length of him. The stretch was intense, almost too much, and yet it was exactly what she needed. Full. Claimed. Filled in a way that no one else had ever touched, not just her body, but something far deeper.
He paused when he was fully seated inside her, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths tangling in the silence.
“Fuck,” he groaned, trembling slightly. “You feel like heaven.”
Azriel couldn’t speak. Could only nod, overwhelmed by the sensation of him, ofthis.Of being wrapped around him, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
“Move,” she whispered. “Please, Kostya.”
He kissed her, slow and possessive, before he started to thrust. His rhythm was careful at first, gentle, as though he was savoring every inch of her, every tiny gasp that spilled from her lips. He rocked into her with a precision that made her ache, hiships rolling against hers in a rhythm that felt like it had been written into her bones.
Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper. The slide of his body against hers was slick with heat and desire, and every slow drag sent shockwaves through her. The friction, the weight, the stretch, everything felt right.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he rasped into her ear. “So perfect for me.”
He adjusted slightly, angling his hips, and suddenly he was hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out, her nails digging into his shoulders as her entire body clenched.
“There,” she gasped. “Right there, don’t stop.“
He didn’t. His pace quickened, still controlled but relentless, driving into her again and again with a need that felt primal. His mouth was everywhere, her neck, her shoulder, the soft curve of her breast, each kiss grounding her as the pleasure built, fast and hot and unbearable.
Then his hand slid between them, finding her clit with maddening precision.
Azriel bucked against him, her moan breaking in the back of her throat.
“You love this,” he whispered, breathless. “Love the way I touch you. The way I fill you. Look at me.”
She forced her eyes open, and what she saw nearly undid her. Kostya’s gaze was locked on hers, dark, intense,consumed. Not just with lust, but something deeper. Something she didn’t dare name yet.
“I want to see you come,” he said, thumb circling her clit with devastating rhythm. “Right here. Rightnow.”
Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. The orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave, pulling a cry from her throat that was half sob, half surrender. She clung to him as her body shook, her muscles tightening around him in sharp, desperate pulses.
He groaned her name, deep and hoarse, and then he was following her, thrusting into her hard one last time before he came, his body jerking, his release flooding into her as he buried his face in her neck.
They stayed tangled together afterward, breathless and boneless, his weight comforting on top of her. Neither spoke, but something passed between them in the quiet, a deep, silent recognition.
This hadn’t been casual. It hadn’t been simple.
It had beeneverything.
Kostya kissed her shoulder, then her temple, his breath still uneven.
“I warned you,” he murmured. “There’s no going back now.”
Azriel closed her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.
“I don’t want to.”
