Page 40 of Velvet Chains
Damn him. Damn him and his infuriating, irresistible… everything.
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as I feel him step closer, his body heat enveloping me like a cocoon.
Before I can respond, he cups my breast with one hand, squeezing it firmly. I gasp, my body arching into his touch as a bolt of pleasure shoots through me.
“Victor…” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper.
But he’s not done. His other hand slides down my tummy, his fingers trailing over my skin like a brand. I try to squirm away, but he’s too strong, his grip unyielding.
“So responsive,” he growls, his hand dipping lower, lower, until he’s cupping my pussy through the thin lace of my underwear. “And already so wet for me.”
I whimper, my hips bucking against his hand involuntarily. It’s been three weeks since he’s touched me like this, three weeks of pent-up desire and frustration. My body feels like a live wire, every nerve ending sparking with need.
“Please, Victor,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for anymore.
He chuckles darkly, his fingers pressing harder against my clothed pussy. “Please what, wife? Tell me what you want.”
I can feel his erection pressing against my ass, hard and insistent. The knowledge that he wants me just as badly sends a thrill racing down my spine.
“I want… I need…” But the words won’t come, lost in the haze of pleasure clouding my mind.
Victor’s hand leaves my breast, moving up to tangle in my hair. He tugs my head back, exposing my throat to his hungry gaze.
“You need what, kiska? My cock buried inside this tight little cunt?” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding against me. “Need me to fuck you until you scream my name?”
“God, yes,” I moan, beyond caring how desperate I sound. “Please, Victor. Fuck me.”
For a moment, he goes still, and I’m afraid he’s going to deny me, to leave me hanging on the edge of this exquisite torture. But then, with a muttered curse, he’s yanking at my dress, pulling it down my body with a swift, violent motion.
I hear the snap of my necklace breaking, feel the cool air rushing over my exposed skin. But I couldn’t care less, not when Victor is turning me around, his mouth crashing down on mine in a bruising kiss.
I melt into him, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair as I open for him, letting him plunder my mouth with his tongue. It’s a clash of teeth and lips and desperation, weeks of denied passion pouring out in one electrifying moment.
Victor’s hands are everywhere, kneading my ass, skimming up my sides, cupping my face as he devours me. I can feel the hard length of him pressing against my stomach, and I ache to have him inside me, to feel him stretching me, filling me.
But just as suddenly as it began, Victor is pulling away, his breathing harsh and ragged. He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes squeezing shut as he visibly tries to rein himself in.
“Fuck, kiska,” he rasps, his voice rough with desire. “The things you do to me…”
I can only whimper in response, my body thrumming with need, with the urge to pull him back to me and finish what we started.
But Victor is already stepping back, putting distance between us. He runs a hand through his hair, his chest heaving as he tries to compose himself.
“Get dressed,” he says, his voice still gravelly but firm. “We have places to be.”
Chapter 18
Laura
I FOLLOW Victor to the sleek, black Mercedes-Benz S-Class idling at the curb, with Misha waiting behind the wheel.
“Get in,” Victor orders, holding the car door open.
I slide into the back, the leather cold against my ass. Victor doesn’t join me, instead plopping down in the front next to Misha.
Well, screw that.
I don’t need to sit next to him, anyway.
