Page 62 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
At once, we spring to action as I’m shuffled down his body again, and I reach for his belt while Roman undoes his tie and shirt. In a flurry of limbs and panted breaths, unable to deny what we both want more than anything, we work to get him as bare as I am.
His once-perfectly pressed shirt is tossed to the side, along with his pants, and before I can fully catch my breath, he’s yanking his boxers down.
As his hands find my hips again, Roman pulls me against him without missing a beat, and our bodies fit more perfectly together than I ever wanted to admit.
Our lips mesh in an impatient tangle, seeking out every inch and every sensation we can find. The heat is overwhelming, but I walk into it heart first, lightly tugging on his hair and letting myself be as greedy as I want.
He hums into it, growing more and more impatient as his tongue swipes against my lower lip, asking for the access I grant him immediately.
Appeased by this, his one arm wraps around me, pulling me impossibly close while our mouths move in such a dazed hurry that I can’t even keep track of how long we stay like this.
But it doesn’t matter…time doesn’t matter.
It’s only the two of us, and that raw desire neither of us can pretend doesn’t exist.
As the room grows hotter and stickier, Roman’s hands lower, with one reaching the back of my thigh while the other grips at my ass with a hungry insistence. I moan into his mouth and allow him to guide me until I’m straddling his hips.
The brush of our cores together makes me shudder, and before I know it, I’m rolling my hips against him. Our breaths turn more frantic while he urges me to continue, nearly drowning us in endless waves of pure lust.
“Fucking hell…” Roman utters while gripping my skin and moving his hips at the same time, as he slides between my thighs. All traces of his previous smugness have completely vanished, leaving him with an almost desperate expression. “You really want this, don’t you?”
“Yes…” I murmur, barely getting the word out while I move against him. My lower stomach flutters from the friction, and I can’t get enough. My fingers drift over the tight musclesalong his abdomen and chest, wanting and needing to feel so much more. “I do…please.”
“Asking so nicely,” he hums, positioning my thighs while he nudges himself against my begging heat. His eyes nearly roll back at the sensation alone. “It’s fortunate I’m feeling generous tonight…”
Before I can beg him to give us both what we want, Roman edges forward and slips inside. Given how worked up I already am, he faces little resistance, and my breath catches in my throat.
That insertion…slow yet not agonizingly so…feels like a blooming of warmth through my body, shocking me to life.
Roman drops his head back against the armrest while he slides in further, filling me completely before letting me still above him. His chest heaves a bit harder while he looks up at me and squeezes my hips. Swallowing hard, the color in his cheeks from the heat of it all is almost endearing.
“Keep going,milaya,” he murmurs, letting the word slip while wrapped in need and affection. The intensity in his eyes never falters. “Ride me…”
Anticipation races through me at his request, and as I regain my bearings, I place my hands on his chest before I start to move.
Lifting my hips, I feel every agonizingly delicious spark of gratification course through me, soaking in how he stretches me. I watch his expression falter and how those heavy breaths leave him like he has never felt anything like this before.
“Fuck…that’s it,” Roman utters, letting his eyes close while he supports me, urging me to continue. He subtly lifts his thighs, as if cradling me from beneath.
Seeing him this way…so consumed by the pleasure and taking in everything I have to offer, empowers me to continue. To lean into that side of me, I don’t often explore.
Moaning in return, I feel that pleasant haze flooding my mind, and I try to focus on my movements. On moving up and down his shaft in a way that makes us both grip each other with a desperate undertone.
I gradually build a pace as I grow accustomed to the position and the way it offers me a sense of power over him, letting myself move in a way that feels the most natural.
All the while, Roman holds me tightly, trying to swallow back his sounds despite mostly failing. He resists the urge to move for me, watching almost breathlessly instead.
Before long, we’re both pulling in ragged breaths, focusing on every point of pleasure exchanged between us while the room thickens. It’s almost suffocating, but it feels far too good to stop.
As a low sound escapes him, he wraps his arms around me completely and pulls me closer to crash our lips together again. His fingers move up until they’re in my hair, gripping it for support.
Roman groans against my mouth, giving in as he lifts his hips and thrusts into me. His breath catches while he quickens his pace, looking far too gone to think about anything else.
“You feel…far too perfect for your own good…” he utters, holding me like he’ll never get the chance again while he pushes us both closer to the edge.
By then, I’m a rambling mess while I cling to him in return, being force-fed wave after wave of such intense feelings.
The depth of him inside me, hitting every perfect spot, mounts that pressure inside me, and before I can even come up with the words, I’m clenching.
