Page 40 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
A low sound leaves his throat while he guides me closer, setting me on his thigh while he sits on the edge of the desk. Dropping both hands, he squeezes me again before gentlyrocking me forward and sending a rush of sparks through me from the friction of my clit against his clothed thigh.
My hips twitch involuntarily, and Mikhail takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers beneath my damp panties and running along my heat. I gasp, but it’s immediately swallowed up in the kiss.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing across my jaw and down my neck. At the same time, he lightly prods at me, exploring and feeling the raw evidence of my desire for him. “You claim to hate me, yet you’re soaked…”
I want to snap at him and come up with something scathing to put him in his place, but he’s right. I’m aching for him.
A breathless moan slips from my lips while he nips at my skin, both teasing at my core and slowly guiding my hips forward, stimulating me in the best ways. I already feel so weak while I practically melt against him.
Mikhail hums, letting me feel his smile against my neck. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me, sweetheart.”
“Shut up,” I murmur pathetically, unable to stop another moan from bubbling up to the surface. I lean into his shoulder with one arm looped around it to keep myself steady. I whimper the moment he attempts to slide a finger inside me, but he does it slowly, barely reaching the second joint.
He sounds vaguely amused and does it again before easing it back out again, words fanning against my collarbone. “That also doesn’t sound like‘please’to me.”
“Stop teasing me.”
“Then ask me nicely.”
My breath hitches as he repeats that torturous movement, and it sends even more addictive heat through me.
I want more, and I want it badly. My pride holds me back at first, but it slowly ebbs away, making room for desperation.
I swallow hard and grip his shirt tighter. “Please…”
He pauses just above my pulse point, smirking. “Please, what?”
Damn him.
“Please, more.”
“More?”
“Yes,” I whisper, feeling tense and coiled up from how badly I need relief. “Please, Mikhail…I need you.”
Clearly satisfied then, he nips at my skin and slowly eases the finger inside me at last.
A gasp escapes me while I tense at the intrusion, feeling a spark of sensations through me at once. My hips jolt again, and I cling to him.
“Easy…” he chuckles, carefully moving the finger inside me. “You’re very sensitive tonight.”
I want to mutter something back, but the words die on my tongue.
Instead, I groan and press my forehead to his shoulder while I take in every flicker of pleasure coursing inside me. I cling to him, focusing completely on what he’s giving me.
A more gravelly hum leaves his chest while he continues, both picking up the pace of his finger and easing me against his thigh again.
It all hits me at once, making me clench around him. He changes the speed and pressure gradually, knowing exactly what I need to build that need inside me. At the same time, he leaves wet kisses against my neck and collarbone before moving back up, panting lightly against my skin.
My head’s fuzzy as he draws closer to my mouth before capturing my lips in another burning kiss.
It’s all so overwhelming, I can’t keep up. I hardly see my orgasm approaching until it crashes over me, making my breath hitch before I whimper into his mouth. I squeeze him while I tense before giving way again, trembling through the intense wrath of release.
Mikhail groans, pressing a kiss just beneath my ear. “That’s it…let go for me.”
His words only add fuel to the fire, and I bask in every wave of bliss.
When my eyes finally open again, my legs tremble, and while that initial release has loosened me up, I still want more. I need more.
