Page 172 of The Pucking Arrangement

I don’t have time to argue before his mouth crashes against mine.

Chapter35

A Man Possessed

Dmitri

The door slams shut, the sound echoing between us like a starting gun.

She’s shaking—wide-eyed, breath shallow, every inch of her body taut with anticipation. But she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even try. Because she knows exactly what’s coming.

And so do I.

If we talk now, we’ll ruin this. Words don’t mean shit in this moment. They won’t undo the last few weeks, won’t erase the space I let grow between us. I hurt her by letting her go. And now? Now, I’m taking her back.

There’s no patience, no hesitation—just need.

I skim my hand up her back and grab her neck, crushing my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp, kissing her like she’s the only thing keeping me breathing. She opens for me instantly, like she never stopped belonging to me, like she never will. I kiss her like a man possessed, like she’s my oxygen. My hands are everywhere. Her waist, her breasts, her shoulders, her hair, dragging the straps of her dress down.

“Have you gotten yourself off since the last time we fucked?” I rasp.

She nods, gasping.

“Did you think of me fucking you while your fingers were in your pussy?”

Another nod.

Good.

Because she’s all I could think of the past few weeks, desperately fisting my cock in the shower, never enough to sate me.

Her dress—the dress she wore for me—is bunched in my fist before I even realize I’m gripping it. My other hand slides beneath it, fingers trailing up her thigh, feeling her shudder as I skim the lace barely covering her.

But not for long.

With one sharp tug, I shred the delicate scrap of fabric away, let it drop to the floor like an afterthought. She gasps, half surprised, half wrecked. Before she can say anything, I’m already sinking to my knees.

“Now spread those legs for me and tell me you’re mine,” I demand as her leg hooks over my shoulder, trembling. I press my mouth to the soft, heated skin of her inner thigh. A slow, wicked drag of my lips, a promise and a warning all at once.

“Yes, Dmitri, yes,” she moans. “I’m yours.”

Good. I smirk, satisfied.

Her pussy is bare, pink and glistening, needy. I slide my thumb over her opening, feeling her shudder, then lick her slowly from top to bottom.

“Dmitri,” she pants, tugging her hands through my hair, looking for stability.

“I’m hungry,” I rumble, looking up at her, holding her hips in place as she grinds against my face shamelessly. “You seem to be starving too.” I chuckle, feeling her tight channel pulse around my tongue as I continue reveling in her heat, her wetness, her need.

“Oh, Dmitri, this is it. I can’t hold back anymore,” she moans, and I insert a finger into her pussy, fucking her with wild abandon.

“You missed me,solnyshko,” I grind out between licks, never giving her a moment to catch her breath. Her knees buckle, her pussy pulsing around my fingers, convulsing against my tongue as she falls apart with a sharp, shuddering cry. But I don’t stop. I draw it out, stroking her through the aftershocks, letting her ride the pleasure until she’s trembling, until her gasps turn into soft, breathless whimpers.

Only then do I rise to my feet, gripping the zipper of her dress and dragging it down in one slow, deliberate motion. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her bare except for the heels. I kneel again, this time to unfasten them, my hands skimming her calves as I slip each one off.

Then, before she can process what’s happening, I straighten and throw her over my shoulder.

She yelps, squirming in my grip. “Put me down, you brute!”

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