Page 75 of His Prince

My eyes water and I glance at the house, seeing Mikhail on the porch, a cigarette in his hand.

I’ve never seen him smoke before, but fuck, it’s hot, the smoke filtering around him in a cloud.

“Boss is smoking. Thought he quit,” Felix says with a grin and then ruffles my hair. “Seems you got to him.”

I don’t know what that means, but I stand up and brush my hands down the front of my shorts, slightly nervous, my heart thumping, my gaze focused solely on him.

My husband.

“Felix, can you bring these to the greenhouse? I’ll be right back.”

I can feel all eyes on me as I move toward the house, and the closer I get to my husband, the more he inhales the cigarette, smoke billowing around him, the orange of the end glowing brightly. When I am finally standing before him, he inhales one last time, blows the smoke out the side of his mouth and crushes the butt beneath his shoe.

“You satisfied now?” he asks, his accent a little deeper than normal.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you. I love them.” My words are watery and our gazes clash, a crackle of lust and need. Perhaps it’s the failed hand job earlier or the fact I didn’t fuck him last night, but either way, the two of us move simultaneously into the house, his footsteps following closely behind me as I enter our bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts, he’s on me, his hands ripping the shirt from my chest, the fabric tearing across my body and falling onto the floor, my skin stinging from the force. My dick instantly stiffens to full mast, and I groan as it digs into my jean shorts.

The zipper is pulled down and Mikhail is shucking them down my legs, his fingernails dragging down my thighs. I let them pool around my ankles and then step out of them, leaving myself completely naked except for a pair of lace panties.

He growls when he sees them, his nostrils flaring, his lips parting in a pant, and then he grabs me, lifting me off the ground and tossing me onto the mattress. I bounce roughly, the air in my lungs leaving me. And when I inhale, he grasps my thighs and tugs me toward the edge of the bed, his thumbs moving under the thin strap of mypanties and dragging them slowly down my legs, exposing my cock to him.

His tongue peeks out and wets his lips as he takes me in, my lace underwear now stretched between my thighs, my cock hard and leaking.

I let out a long breath as he just stares at me. It’s silent, the only sound is the air moving in and out of our lungs. And then he moves, his fingers ripping the lace from my legs and tossing it aside, leaving me completely bare.

He spreads my legs further, so wide it almost hurts, and his hands lift my ass off the bed, his thumbs spreading my cheeks open so he can look at my hole.

“Mikhail, what are you doing?” I groan and he presses a fingertip to it, feeling the way it clenches against him.

“My pretty little menace,” he says as he sets me down and rips his shirt off, his bare chest heaving as he works his pants down his legs. His cock hits his stomach with a slap, precum beading at the tip, his thighs flexing as he leans over me and grabs the lube from the end table.

The position of his body over mine has our cocks brushing against each other and I can’t help it. I let my hands slide up his back, just once, before he pulls away, his eyes meeting mine as he sets the lube near my side. His hand gently grasps my left leg and pulls it over his shoulder, his other hand flicking the cap of the lube open.

I hold my breath, unsure of what he’s going to do, what he wants me to do. But he just carefully dribbles some of it between my cheeks and the cool liquid slides down to my hole just as his finger pushes it inside.

My eyes widen as he breaches me and then a low, keening moan escapes my lips. My hands clutch onto his thighs, holding him tightly as he works his way inside of me. One finger, two. A twist of his wrist, a flick of his finger against my prostate. My back arches off the bed, my body trembling as he plays with me, bringing meprecariously close to the edge before he slides three fingers inside, stretching me wide open.

“Mikhail. Pl—please.”

My words are stuttered, my body strung tightly with desire.

“I need—please. I need more.”

He doesn’t let up, just continues to add more lube to his fingers, pushing it inside of me, teasing me, bringing me so close to the edge that I’m sure I’m going to come.

But before I can, he pulls out of me and slots his cock at my hole.

“You ready?”

“Yes!”

He doesn’t wait any longer, bracketing his arms near the sides of my face, and the blunt head of his cock pushes inside of me with one forward thrust. My back arches off the bed, my fingernails clawing down his skin, leaving marks. But I’m lost, I’m so fucking gone. The way he fills me, the way I stretch around him, the way he looks. His cheeks red, lips parted in a groan, arms shaking as he holds himself inside of me for a long-drawn-out second. His face is hovering just over mine, my body folded in half as he seems to almost grow in size inside of me. He lets out a slow shuddering exhale, and I can smell the smoke on his breath, his musky, manly scent infiltrating my senses.

I want him.

I fucking want him. Now.

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