Page 47 of Crimson Fury

“Anton!” I choke out as he spins me around and presses me forward until my cheek is flush against the cool surface.

“Quiet,” he barks, his hand curling around my wrist and holding it into the small of my back. I’m too startled to react, and too damn hot to want him to stop, even though everything inside me is screaming that this is dangerous.

I can feel his arousal against my back, and I know I have him just as much as he has me. With his free hand, he yanks at the waistband of my pants and tugs them down my ass to my thighs. I groan as the cool air brushes my skin, followed by the warm touch of his hand.

When he traces his fingers down the crack of my ass until he reaches my slit, I moan low in my throat.

“Do you like that?” His voice is low and husky in my ear.

My breath hitches at the sound of it, and a wave of pleasure crashes over me. “Oh, God,” I gasp.

He moves his hand deeper, fingers probing and delving until I’m bobbing my hips up without thinking. I jerk when he reaches my clit and traces circles around it, each touch sending a spark of pleasure through me until I’m trembling with anticipation.

“You’re dripping for me,” he growls in approval as he slides two fingers inside me. He adds a third, moving them faster now as he presses against that sweet spot deep inside me. My eyes squeeze shut as I surrender to the sensations coursing through my body, unable to contain the moans rising from within me.

“Jesus…Anton, please,” I husk out, aching for the release he keeps promising and then holding back.

“Such a needy little creature,” he says into my ear.

I’m lost in sensation by then – lost in him – and all I can do is nod helplessly in agreement as wave after wave of pleasure roll through my body. And then, without warning, he stops. I groan in frustration, until a second later, a stinging slap lands on the soft flesh of my ass.

“Anton!” I bleat, trying to jerk up. His hand holding my wrists keeps me firmly pinned down as another blow meets my tingling skin. “What the fuck?” I blurt.

“Be still!” he snaps at me, delivering another sharp slap. I yelp and kick out, but he pushes his knee between mine and spreads my thighs wide.

“Are you fucking spanking me?” I half-yell, which is a ridiculous thing to say because clearly, that’s exactly what he’s doing. The next slap lands on the hypersensitive flesh of my pussy and I choke out a tiny shriek.

“Anton! You bastard!” I twist and writhe in his grip until his fingers seek out my clit again, and suddenly I’m a puddle of mush.

“You want me to stop?” he says mockingly.

“Oh, dear God…” I barely recognize my own voice as he keeps up his maddening rubbing. Until he spanks me again and my cheeks burn as I realize that the sensations are starting to mingle. The heat spreading through my skin is melding with the blinding pleasure he’s drawing from me until I can’t tell one from the other. By the time I hear the metallic sound of his zipper, I’m ready to beg him to take me. Thankfully, I don’t need to. He thrusts into me to the hilt with such force it knocks my breath from me.

“Fuck!” I choke out. “Oh, my…! Fuck!”

He releases his hold on my wrist and grips my hip to hold me steady as he rams into me like a man possessed. When his hand rains down on my ass again, I find myself raising onto my toes and babbling mindlessly as I seek out the hot pleasure of it.

“Yes…” thrust… “Anton…” thrust… “Oh, God…” thrust “Yes!” I cry out in both ecstasy and pain as he slams into me harder and faster. He barks something out in Russian that sounds almost animalistic, and then starts to whisper words of passion into my ear. The combination of his rough thrusts, the sharp slaps on my ass, and the harsh growl of his voice are too much for me to handle. I’m coming apart at the seams, screaming his name and clutching at the edge of the dresser as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me.

Several mind-bending orgasms later, I feel him shudder against me as his own climax hits him hard. With one final powerful thrust, he empties himself inside me with a guttural shout of pleasure that sends me spinning over the edge once more.

By the time I get my breath back, he’s pulled out of me and I hear the rustle of his pants as he rights himself. I can’t move though. I’m still lying limply over the dresser with my ass in the air as I try to get my wits about me. My face is damp with sweat, tendrils of my hair clinging to my skin. He tugs my pants up over my hips and then his hand roams up my back. His touch makes me moan and I want to turn around and purr against his chest like a contented cat.

A spanked contented cat.

Holy shit, that was something else.

I inhale deeply, feeling his fingers stroke my hair in a way that’s almost tender. I shut my eyes, sinking into the moment. Waiting for him to lift me gently and hold me against him.

He doesn’t. Of course, he freaking doesn’t.

Instead, his hand slides up my neck, fingers curling around my throat. Fingers that grip my airway.

No…God, no!

“Anton, I—!” I gasp as his grip tightens.

Fuck!

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