Page 126 of Ruby Mercy

When he pulls away from me and slides my pants down my legs, there is no more doubt. There isn’t room for it. I’m bursting with desire for the man standing in front of me.

Before he can remove his pants, I stand up and do it for him. I drag them downward, my eyes pinned to his the entire time. Kirill lets me spin him towards the bed. When I shove on his chest, he drops back on his elbows and I crawl over him.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers, squeezing my hips.

“Worth turning down the woman in the elevator for?” I tease.

Suddenly, he grips my chin and looks up at me. His green eyes are almost golden in the lamplight. “You’re worth turning down every woman in the world for.”

My face flushes, and I duck out of his touch. Before he can argue, I position him at my opening and impale myself onto him in one thrust.

The sensation bends my back. I press my palms to his chest and arch into the feeling, rolling myself over his length.

Kirill’s breathing is erratic. His hands tense and squeeze, offering only the barest direction as I take the lead.

“Take what you need,” he says, scraping his fingers over my ribs and covering my breasts. He pinches my nipples as I grind down onto him. Then his hand slips lower. His thumb presses against my apex, a devastating friction. I cry out.

“Come, Rayne,” Kirill commands. “Come for me.”

For the first time in hours, my brain is empty. Nothing except for Kirill and this warmth in my core doesn’t exist. I want it to last as long as possible.

But I can’t fight the sensation burning through me.

A few more thrusts and I’m lost. I contract around him as the rest of my body collapses. I fall onto his chest, moaning against his neck as the orgasm wrings me out.

“I feel you,” Kirill groans, smoothing a hand down my spine. “You’re coming so hard.”

And I am. So hard. So goddamn hard.

I’m still contracting when Kirill slides me off of him, shifts behind me, and fills me again.

There is no lull between orgasms. The end of the first shifts directly into the uphill climb of the next.

“You were made to take me,” Kirill breathes. His hands are hot brands on my hips as he slams into me again and again. My thighs shake and I feel the reverberation through my entire body.

I want only Kirill. I want him to shake loose everything else that’s plaguing me—all of the shit that doesn’t matter, the people who don’t care, the lies. I want all of it to be gone and replaced with this.

Maybe brute force is the way to go.

“Harder,” I beg, tears welling in my eyes. “More, Kirill.”

He listens, picking up his pace until I’m screaming and clawing at the mattress. And this time, when I clamp down around him, Kirill releases, too. It’s simultaneous, the shift from frenzied pleasure seeking to sheer, blank-eyed bliss.

He pulses into me, and I cling to him. I hold on tight to this man and this moment.

It’s one of the few things I have left.

44

KIRILL

Rayne won’t look at me.

All morning while she packed her and Yuliana’s things, she wouldn’t look at me.

When we stopped to grab breakfast on our way out of town, she wouldn’t look at me.

Now, sitting in the passenger seat at my side, Rayne keeps her eyes on the scenery flashing by her window. Aimed anywhere but at me. Her body is as close to the door as humanly possible, her hands wedged between her thighs like she doesn’t trust them. Like they might accidentally reach for me without her approval.

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