Page 124 of Fierce Pursuit

It was too much. My thighs shook, my body spasmed, every nerve raw and frayed. I tried to move, but his grip was unrelenting, fingers digging into the tender flesh of my thigh, holding me open for him.

And then his other hand slid up my body, three fingers glistening in the low light, coated in the evidence of my complete and utter surrender.

I didn’t need him to speak to know what he wanted.

I obeyed.

My lips parted, and I took his fingers into my mouth, tasting myself, the sweetness laced with the salt of his skin, the smoke and sin of him bleeding onto my tongue.

At the same time, he groaned into my core, pushing me over again, dragging another orgasm from my trembling body.

I shattered completely.

Because at that moment, I wasn’t sure if he was feasting on me, or if I had become his.

My back arched hard enough to ache, my vision swam, and I moaned around his fingers, heels digging into his back, desperate to anchor myself in something—anything—but him.

How was it possible that I needed to come yet again.

The pressure inside me built and built, a relentless storm surging in my core, but this time I couldn’t release it. Wouldn’t. Not until he allowed it.

Kostya held me on the razor’s edge, dangling me over the precipice of pleasure, making me feel every agonizing second of the unbearable, devastating need. It was too much—too sharp—edging into something just shy of pain.

He made me confront that line, tested my limits, but wouldn’t let me break.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, my pulse hammered wildly in my chest, and my thighs burned from trembling so hard.

How was he doing this to me?

What did this mean?

How had I gone my entire life not knowing it could be like this?

How was I supposed to go on, knowing pleasure this soul-consuming existed, knowing I would never have it again?

“Kostya, please.” My voice broke, my body wrecked and raw. I felt the sting of tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “Please, I can’t—it’s too—fuck.”

“Come for me,moy zaichonok.”

The words rumbled against me, against my slick, swollen flesh, sinking into my skin, my bones. That was all it took.

The dam broke.

A scream ripped from my throat as I shattered again, this orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave, dragging me under, wave after wave of pulsing, liquid fire. My body spasmed, pulsed, clenched, soaking his fingers, his mouth, his skin.

“Good girl,” he murmured against my stomach, his lips tracing soft, reverent kisses up my body.

But I wasn’t satisfied.

The pleasure he had wrung from me had been brutal, earth-shattering, but it wasn’t enough. It had only deepened the void inside me, making me ache for more.

For him.

His cock, thick and hard, brushed against my trembling thigh, and a desperate whimper tore from my throat.

I needed him.

I needed him to bury himself inside me, to claim me in the way only a man like Kostya could, like I was his, like I belonged to him. The orgasm had been devastating, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough but him.

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