Page 90 of Devious Truth

Climbing over me, his muscles ripple with tension. He pushes my thighs apart, hooking his arm beneath my knee and sinking into me with one thrust.

I arch back, crying out from the sudden fullness.

“Fuck. You feel so good. So fucking good!” He plows into me, grabbing hold of my hip with his free hand.

The bed rocks with our movements.

I pull him down to me, needing his kiss as he ravishes me.

I’m left dizzy and reeling when he breaks the kiss, staring down at me with his eyes full of need, his mouth falling open as he continues to pound me into the mattress.

He lets my leg loose, but I hook my ankle behind his back, using the leverage to buck at him. I meet him thrust for thrust, and we kiss again, and again.

He mutters words in Russian against my ear. I don’t know the words, but I feel the meaning of each as they roll over my skin, warming me and loving me.

“I have to come.” I cry out, feeling the damn about to burst. “Please!”

He bites down on my neck. “Come for me, dirty girl. And make it good.”

Repositioning himself, he thrusts into me at a new angle, a steeper one, stealing my breath and any coherent thought I might have had.

My throat stretches again, this time around a soundless scream as an orgasm tears through my body.

He grips my hips, grabbing at me with the ferocity of a madman seeking a cure.

Hard thrusts jerk the headboard against the wall in a cadence that melts easily into his animalistic grunts and groans until he stills, unleashing his seed into me.

Softly, I brush my fingers across his brow, easing away the tension as he floats back to the earth with me. Reaching up, I kiss his chin, his cheek, then his mouth.

Cradling his head, I pull him into me, tasting the sweetness of him, the spice of his kiss.

“Do you still think you should have gone to your apartment?” He asks, every word deliberately chosen, careful not to call it home.

“No.”

He shifts onto his side, and I follow, rolling to my side to face him.

“The water gets so much hotter here than my place.”

He smiles, a gentle tug on his lips that’s wiped away when his phone pings from somewhere in the mess of clothes he’s left on the floor.

Reaching beneath us, he pulls the thick quilts down and waits until I wiggle beneath them before pulling them up to my chin.

“You’re not coming to bed yet?” I lean up onto my elbow, watching him saunter around the foot of the bed toward the closet.

A moment later he comes out in a pair of black jeans and a dark gray sweater. “There’s a few more things I need to see to. I’ll be up soon, but you should sleep. You had a long shift.”

“Did you watch me on the cameras? Because it’s creepy when you do that.” I roll onto my back, stretching my legs out.

He kisses me, then turns off the side table lamp. “It’s not creepy when it’s me.”

“Ivan?” I stop him as he’s shutting the door.

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?” With the hallway light shining from behind him, I can’t get a clear look of his expression. But his tone tells me everything.

“It will be.”

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