Page 136 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

I don’t have anything. I didn’t even bring my purse. It’s all in the van.

Dima, however, is calm. He nods. “In my wallet.”

I raise a brow. “You brought a condom on a mission to destroy me?”

“There are many ways to destroy a person, Arya.”

The hunger between my legs doubles instantly. I practically growl as I snatch his jeans from the floor and rip into the condom. Dima watches with sparkling eyes as I slide it down his length and then position him at my center.

When I sink down, we both sigh. When our bodies press together, Dima diving inside of me as far as possible…

It feels like I’ve come home.

He grips my hips and guides me up and down his length. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the hammering of his heart as we come together again and again. Each time, it’s better than the last.

It’s like the lies between us are shedding away layer by layer. Each time he slides inside of me, I feel more. I feel closer to him.

Soon, it’s too much. I sit up and press my hands on his chest as I ride him, rocking back and forth, side to side. Dima grips my hips and my waist. He reaches up and pinches my nipples, palming my breasts while he thrusts into me, matching my pace.

When I come again, it’s slow and steady. The feeling drips over me like I’m being cast in hot wax. It drips down my head and into my chest before making its way lower. I arch my back and grind against him, riding out the wave, find my pleasure until my toes curl. Until I can’t do anything but collapse forward onto his chest in a spent heap.

“Fucking hell, that was incredible.” I kiss his chest, and he pats my back, laughing.

I look down at his still-hard cock and then back up to his face, drawing my finger over his lips. “I don’t see how you’re still going. It’s gotta be a world record.”

In response, he slides back into my willing body to the hilt. I’ve already come twice, but I can feel my body yearning for him still. He’s inside of me, but I want more.

One leg at a time, I hook my knees over his shoulders. The next time he thrusts into me, it’s an entirely new sensation. We both cry out.

“You’re so tight,” he says, his voice becoming ragged. “This world record won’t last much longer.”

“Then fuck me hard and make me feel it all.”

He hisses like I burnt him and then slams into me. The slap echoes around the room and the bed bangs against the wall, but I still want more.

“Harder.”

He does it again, his thighs stinging against my backside with the force.

“Faster,” I gasp.

Dima tears into me again and again. He said he was close, but I’m the one crying and writhing through another orgasm.

My body clenches at him, desperate to bring him in and hold him, but Dima doesn’t stop or slow down. He thrusts into me harder and harder and harder until I’m sure I’ll break open in the best way possible.

Then, finally, he pauses.

I feel him twitch. He gasps like he’s finally breathing air after a long time without it. Lets go of my hands and curls his face into my palm as I stroke his cheeks and his hair. He kisses my finger tips and my knees, still hitched over his shoulders.

Dima worships the most insignificant parts of me as his orgasm takes him. I’ve never felt so cherished in all my life.

After we clean up and crawl back in bed, I’m beginning to doze when I feel Dima’s body curl against mine.

“Are you still awake?”

“I am,” I say, my voice so soft I’m not even sure I’ve spoken.

“Good.” He breathes against my neck, and I’m confused what he means until I feel him. Pressed against my lower back.

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