Page 67 of Delicious Prey

“That’s so not fair,” she mutters, but I can see the way her pupils are already blown and the way her breathing has picked up.

“It’s been a long time since my girl’s come,” I say. “Unless there’s something I don’t know about.” I tease my fingers even lower. “Have you been touching this pussy without me?”

“No,” she pouts. “Of course not. I was scared to death for you.”

I smile and very slowly slide my fingers into her panties. “Good girl, baby. Now it’s time for your reward.”

When I lower my hand and cup her bare, wet pussy, I let out a groan of pure pleasure at the feel of her. My cock is trying desperately to wake up, but thanks to the morphine, all I can manage is a semi-hard state that’s more infuriating than anything else. It’s not going to stop me from making my girl feel good, though.

“You’re soaking my hand, sweetheart,” I tell her, smiling at the way her hips are already slowly rocking. Yeah, it’s been way too long since she’s had an orgasm. She’s on her knees, leaning over me, and when I slide two fingers in, her lips part in a gasp, and I’m mesmerized by the sight of it.

“You gonna come all over my hand, baby?”

“Yes,” she moans, rocking her hips even harder.

Brushing my finger over her clit, she moans as her eyes roll back. “Show me how much you missed me. Grip my fingers.” She clenches down on me, and I growl at how badly I need to be inside her. “Good fucking girl. Your greedy little cunt is sucking me in so good.” I rub her clit harder, bringing her closer to the edge, and right before I push her over, I capture her lips with mine, kissing her hard and swallowing her screams. Even though my chest hurts like hell, I raise my arm and cup the back of her head, keeping her held tightly to me while I work her pussy. She clenches around me, feeling so damn tight, and I’d give anything to be able to fuck her right now. I think I’d sell my soul to the devil himself for one goddamn thrust inside this woman.

“Kirill,” she whispers against my lips. Her voice shaky and raw, just how I like it.

I finger her lazily, letting her enjoy the aftershocks. “Yes, baby?”

“I should not have let you do that.”

The guilt in her voice has me smiling. “It’s cute that you think you had a choice.”

She snorts out a laugh before she can stop it. “You’re infuriating.”

“I am,” I agree, giving her clit one last rub before sliding my hand out and bringing the wet fingers to my mouth. “You have no idea how badly I needed this,” I say before licking my fingers clean, filling my mouth with the taste of her delicious cunt. “When we get home, you will be sitting on my face daily.”

She lifts a brow at me. “You think so?”

I suck my other finger clean and give her a wink. “I fucking know so.”

With a satisfied sigh, I reach a hand out to cup one of her tits. “So what should we order for supper, baby?”

She smiles and gives a soft laugh before getting up to grab the menu. The next several days pass by in a blur of pain medicine and annoying visits from Dr. West and various nurses who keep poking and prodding. I know they’re doing their job and that they saved my life, but damn it, I just want to go home.

When the doc comes in again to check on me, I ask, “Can I go home?”

He gives a soft laugh at my impatience and checks the chart he’s holding. “You’ll be thrilled to know that the answer is yes, Mr. Chernikov.”

“Thank god.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia asks, and I shoot her a don’t you dare look. She ignores it of course. “He’ll be okay at the house? What if the wound gets infected? Should he stay in bed?”

Dr. West smiles patiently and answers all her questions, addressing every single concern she has, and there are many. By the time he’s handing me a bottle of antibiotics and more pain pills, Lydia’s gone through a crash course of everything she could possibly need to know about signs of infection, how often the bandages should be changed, when they can come off, and when the stitches will need to come out. She still looks nervous and not fully convinced. Dr. West hands her a card with his cell number written on the back.

“Call me anytime, and if you feel like you should bring him back, don’t hesitate to do so. We’re always here if you need us.”

She nods and takes the card, frowning at me when I start to get up. “What?” I ask her. “He said I can leave.”

“We need a wheelchair.”

“Like hell we do.” I stand and walk over to the clothes Vadim brought me earlier. I’m a little lightheaded, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit it. I send him a text, asking him to come get us and then pull on a pair of jeans. When I reach for a T-shirt, she grabs it from the hanger before I can.

“At least let me help.”

I laugh because even stretching her arms up, she still can’t easily put my shirt on me.

---