Page 15 of Delicious Prey

My conscience takes a backseat when I feel how wet I am. Kirill gives my neck a soft nip, kissing and licking my skin while he works himself harder. I stop worrying about the right and wrong of this. All I can think about is how badly I need the release and how damn good it feels to have his strong body behind mine and his mouth on my skin. I’ve never done anything with anyone, and sharing this with him, well, it feels more intimate than I want to admit right now.

“So fucking wet,” he murmurs, hearing the erotic sounds that fill my bedroom. His accent is thicker, his voice strained. He roughly pulls my shirt up, exposing my lower stomach and back. His fingers graze my skin, dipping lower until his hand is close to mine before he lets out a growl and pulls his hand away. His breathing picks up when he starts to work himself again. I want to look. I want to see what he looks like, but I’m too preoccupied with making myself come.

When I bring my wet fingers to my clit and press down, rubbing myself in tight, firm circles, I let out a moan and close my eyes.

“Fuck,” he groans. “That’s right, baby. Let me hear you come.”

I bite my lip, my stubbornness taking over as I try to keep quiet, but the orgasm refuses to bow down to my pride. The force of it pulls a scream from me, and all I can do is let go as it consumes me. My head falls back, exposing my neck even more. He kisses and licks my skin, and when he finds his own release, he growls my name right before I feel the wet heat of him hit my back.

I’m still gasping for air when he lets out a shuddering breath and I feel his body relax against mine. He kisses my neck once more before letting out a sigh.

“I can’t wait until you beg me to fuck you, zaika.”

“What if I never do?”

He gives a soft laugh. “You will.”

My hand is still in my pants, lazily stroking my clit because I’m greedy for the aftershocks, when I feel him rub his seed into my skin. He smears it along my back and then runs his wet fingers along my side, dragging his semen across my lower belly.

“Mine,” he murmurs close to my ear. “Every part of you will be mine.”

I slide my hand out of my pants, and as soon as it’s free of my waistband, he’s grabbing my wrist and wrapping his mouth around my fingers, sucking hard. A moan escapes when his tongue runs between my fingers, licking up my arousal like a fucking starving man. He opens his eyes and watches me as he slowly pulls back. When my fingers slip free, he licks his lips and gives me a wink.

“You’re fucking delicious, zaika.”

He lets go of my hand and zips his pants back up. Turning back to me, he kisses my forehead and runs the back of his knuckles along my cheek.

“Time to go home, sweetheart.”

“I am home.”

He laughs. “Hurry up and pack what you can’t part with. I’ll buy you anything else you need.”

Still a bit dazed from everything that’s happened, I watch as he stands up and straightens his suit. God, he looks so fucking powerful, and I can’t believe I just came next to him. Shame descends on me in full force, and when I roll onto my side and curl into a tight ball, he walks around the bed so I’m facing him when he kneels down.

“Don’t, sweetheart.” He runs a finger down my cheek in a sweet gesture that seems so at odds with who he is.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t regret what we just shared. It’s the first of many things we’re going to do together, and I don’t want you regretting a single one of them.”

“You’re a hitman,” I whisper.

“I am,” and the calm, matter-of-fact tone doesn’t make me feel any better. “We can discuss this more later. We need to go soon, so hurry up and pack.”

“I’m not leaving Peanut,” I quickly say.

He smiles. “I would never ask you to.” He slides his hand along my thigh and gives me a soft pat. “I’m glad you like the pajamas. I told Vadim to get the most comfortable ones he could find.”

“Vadim?”

“The man who’s been watching you. You’ll meet him soon, zaika, now get up.”

I take the hand he offers and let him help me out of bed. Grabbing a tub from my closet that I store out-of-season clothes in, I empty it and start to fill it with mementos that I refuse to part with. I toss in a photo album filled with pictures of me as a baby, the framed photo of me and my mom and dad that was taken right before she died, and a few of my favorite clothes and books.

Kirill walks past me, stepping into the closet and coming back out with the white dress with pink flowers in his hand. Without a word, he drops it into the tub. I grab the box where I have all his letters stored and toss them in because they do mean something to me and I don’t want to lose them. I refuse to acknowledge the smug grin he’s wearing and grab a duffel bag to throw all of Peanut’s things into.

Kirill’s next to me when I stand back up, and I have to lift my head back to see all of him. I hadn’t realized how big our height difference is. There’s a small smirk playing at his lips, like he thinks it’s amusing as hell how short I am.

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