Page 65 of Devotion

“Do you mean it?”

Time itself holds its breath.

“I mean it with all of my heart,” I blurt out, taking the most horrifying risk of my life. I’ve never said it. Never even dared to feel it.

But she’s right there. Inside my chest, holding my heart in her hands.

Then she’s kissing me, melting into me desperately, our bodies rolling into motion. She envelopes me completely, and I thrust powerfully, a weight lifted from me that I never knew I was carrying.

There’s no toying, fighting. No games.

Just pure passion, lust, desire, love, whatever the hell you want to call it. She rolls, pinning me under her, grinding down on me insistently, rising over me and planting her palms on my chest, taking control.

And I let her.

She’s a Valkyrie, taking my soul straight to Valhalla.

Sitting up, my forearms encircle her back, the heat of her skin pulsing into me, our chests meeting as I pump up into her at the edge of the bed. The sensation is pure abandon, sensual and primal.

Vanya’s head tilts back exposing her neck, her chest. And my lips cannot keep up, devouring her throat, her collarbone, and the peaked tips of her swollen breasts. Ravaging her drives her wild, her hips bucking back and forth over me, grinding my cock inside her.

Silk walls flex around my shaft and I drive up into her harder.

Vanya cries out, clenching her teeth and planting her feet on the bed to either side of me, lifting herself up and down along the entire length of me, pausing at the bottom with a gusting moan each time. She increases the speed, bouncing against my lap, our voices joining as we both get more and more lost in the moment, in each other.

She’s insatiable.

So am I.

“Faster, harder,” she forces out between gasps.

I’m already rising, cupping her ass and lifting her with me, staying tight together as I rush across the room, planting her ass on the top of the dresser and raising her knees higher. Wrapping my elbows snugly around them, I start to pound into her, slamming the dresser into the wall with every thrust.

“Da! Ciro! Right there!” Vanya screams, gripping the lip of the dresser. “More!Boleye!

I can feel my oncoming eruption, the aura of my untethering building in my middle, my legs and arms flexed, prolonging the inevitable. She’s beginning to quake inside, the slick of her arousal flooding around me.

On a whim, I throw her legs over my shoulders, folding her in half, getting a better grip, a better angle. Her ankles loop behind my neck, closing her tighter around me as we rocket toward a tumultuous peak.

My eyes try to drift shut, my head tilting back, every other muscle in my body clenched for release. But I want to see her come undone. Watch us come together.

“Fuck, I am…” Her words blur into an ecstatic wail as I barrel into her harder, with every fiber of my being. She’s screaming in Russian, words I’ve never heard before, swearing, praying, cursing.

Her core locks up, her legs quivering.

And I can’t hold on any longer. The rush of her silken release and the grip of her walls around me send me over the edge, unleashing myself.

Then Vanya is rolling her hips to the rhythm of every stroke, dropping her legs to encircle my waist again. She shifts forward, forcing me back, falling, stumbling, and landing on my back on the bed.

Still buried deep within her.

My head flops back, the sensitive aftershocks curling my toes as she twirls her hips, her eyes fluttering closed, a hand in her hair, the other digging nails into my stomach.

All I can do is lie there, still rigid inside of her as she rides out another rolling tsunami of pleasure, this one longer, deeper. Her moans drop to a guttural whine. And I have never heard a sweeter sound.

She’s slowing, her chest heaving.

But I can’t resist.

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