Page 65 of Twisted Pact
The possessiveness in my voice makes her whimper. She sinks another inch, taking more of me.
“Tell me more,” I order.
“I want you to make me come. I want to feel you lose control inside me. I want—” She gasps as I thrust up slightly. “Oh, God.”
“Finish your sentence.”
“I want you to ruin me for anyone else. I want this to be so good that I can never go back to a life without you in it.”
The admission does something to my chest, making something tighten that has nothing to do with how good she feels wrapped around my cock.
I grip her hips firmly, controlling her movement. “Too slow.” Without warning, I pull her down hard, burying myself inside of her. She cries out, and I hold her there, feeling her adjust to me. “I decide the pace, Zaika. You feel incredible,” I breathe.
“So do you.”
I control every movement, holding onto her waist as I dictate how she rides me. When she goes faster, I slow her down. When she takes control, I remind her who’s in charge..
“You move when I say you can.” I hold her still for a moment, watching frustration and need war across her face. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please, Alexei.”
He tilts his head. “Please what?”
“Please. Let me move.”
“Good girl.” My grip tightens as I push deeper. Harder. “I knew you could take all of me.”
“Alexei.”
“That’s it. Say my name.”
“Alexei. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please don’t stop.”
I wouldn’t stop if the entire Russian army burst through that door. Nothing could make me stop right now.
I slide one hand between us to find her clit and circle it with my thumb. She throws her head back and rides me harder. She’s getting wetter, and I feel her pussy tightening around my cock.
“Look at me,” I demand.
“You know I’m the only man who’ll ever have you like this, right?”
“Yes.”
Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, and I see everything in them. Want, need, and something that terrifies me more than any threat Maxim Novikov could make.
Her inner walls flutter around me. She’s close; I can tell by the way she moves and the little sounds escaping her throat. She moans as she grinds against me with increasing desperation.
“Not yet,” I tell her. I stop all movement, holding her hips in place despite her whimper of protest.
“Alexei, please?—”
“You come when I let you come.” I watch her face, enjoying the desperation there. “Tell me again who you belong to.”
“You. I belong to you.”
