Page 120 of Prince Charming

His sweet, hungry girl fell on him. He kissed hell out of her, grunting from the back of his throat. The careful way she bit his bottom lip nearly made him bust into a climax.

Showing his worship with the filthy words that raced her to a shuddering orgasm on his lap. Fucking hell, how did he get so lucky to touch her like this?

Tag took a second to enjoy how she locked up around his fingers, almost as if fighting against the emotion of it sweeping through her. He had her weakened when she sighed into his neck.

He’d comfortably won his fight last night, putting his confidence back in place.

Funny how it all paled compared to what he was feeling now.

Tag had needed that win. More than he realized.

Though he’d won the last match, it felt like defeat with how it turned out. Blind for a few days, numerous surgeries to put his cheek back together, leaving him disfigured, dented his ego.

Meeting a Russian woman with sadness in her heart somehow made something right in Tag. Gave him a real purpose for once.

He sought the win for his ego, but he was fighting with his whole heart on the line to keep Marianna.

Directing her head up, he took her lips, feeding his tongue into her mouth, where she sucked happily. “It’s sexy when you come for me, Anna.” He shared. “You gonna make a greedy man happy and take me again?”

She would. She was so horny she could hardly keep still.

Like lightning, he switched their position, dropping her little butt on the soft back oversized armchair.

With each gentle, barely there touch against her quivering stomach, she melted for him.

“Anna?”

“Da?”

“Show me what those gorgeous dancers’ legs can do.” He issued in a growl of need as he pushed the shorts down his legs.

Jesus Christ. He never expected her to kill him by hooking each leg over the arms of the chair and kept going until they were split in a straight line.

His heart arrested in his chest, his shaft thumped against his lower stomach.

“Come here, baby boy.” She all but purred, holding out her skinny fingers for him to step into the breach her legs had made.

A perverse smile stretched his lips when he caught those hands and brought them to his dick. She nearly turned his eyeballs inside out when she stroked him roughly.

Tag grunted, resting his two hands on the chair arms, putting their faces together.

She was flushed from her climax, wet where she needed to be soaked.

He wanted to fuck her more than anything.

“Baby boy?” He nibbled her lip, she stroked him faster, pre-come spilling over her fingers. “What’s in your hand tells you I ain’t a baby, or a boy, darlin’.”

His wicked woman grinned andpumped himuntil all he heard was his own guttural groans. And then she floored him, whispering into his mouth. “Maybe you can bemybaby boy,da?”

Fuck. He’d be her any-fucking-thing.

Game over.

Condom dealt with, though he wanted to feel his come dripping out of her, maybe he’d hold a hand to her pussy, push it all back in. Letting her feed his cock into the fire, Tag gave a last push to join them as he held her legs open by the top of her inner thighs.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Oh, god, Luke.” It was the only thing he understood in Russian.

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