Page 42 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
Revenge slips from my brain the second I take in his expression. He changed while I’d been in the closet, stripping his suit for that flattering pair of briefs. I must have caught him off guard, in the middle of sitting on the bed. He’s frozen mid-crouch, his eyes fixated on my body. A jolt of electricity runs through me as he rakes his gaze up and down the length of me. The poor man doesn’t even have the time to rebuild his wall.
I can track every minute reaction transforming his features within the span of a few seconds. A raised eyebrow at my nipples, prominently on display. An appreciative swallow as he roves downward to my practically invisible thong. But then he keeps going down, tracing the curve of my hips and the shape of my thighs, then up to my shoulders and my own throat contracting around a quick swallow.
Our eyes meet, and I realize that I never stopped advancing toward him. In response, he finally moves, lowering himself onto the edge of the mattress as I draw closer. Any second, I expect him to throw his wall back up. Break this spell I can’t seem to snap out of as long as he looks at me like…this.
With hunger and no ounce of restraint.
My fingers fly up to the neckline of my ensemble, and some reckless impulse makes me finger the thin strap sleeves, pushing his reaction to its limits.
A low hum escapes him as he leans back, taking me in like a man having a world-shattering revelation. One of the“Holy shit, I’m forever changed”variety. His eyelids flutter the more I toy with the straps until finally, I let them both slip from my shoulders, sending the neckline plunging.
And he finally moves.
His hands grip my waist first, drawing me into him. Our lips meet next, tongues clashing as my brain goes on hiatus. I wind up straddling him, wantonly rubbing my chest against his, gasping at the friction of the lace over my nipples, enhanced by the heat of his skin. Soon enough, he has the brassiere off and his fingers grope my breasts, kneading them ruthlessly.
“The way you feel…” He trails off, his voice a guttural rumble.
Maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t finish that thought? A burst of wetness coats my inner thighs, and I don’t think I could survive a second more of him speaking like this.
As if to spite me, his mouth finds my ear as he groans, shifting beneath me so that his legs part, a firm bulge pressing against my mound. “The least I should do is taste you,” he murmurs against my flesh. “If we can’t fuck.”
Total mental shutdown. I’m struck dumb as he lifts me off of him and manipulates me onto my back. All I can do is prop up my upper body on my elbows and watch as he crouches at the foot of the bed between my splayed thighs.
Anticipation builds to a painful degree. As if knowing that, he takes his sweet time trailing his fingers up to my hips and finds the waistband of my thong. One gentle tug and I writhe to assist him.
His lips part as his eyes meet mine. Then he lowers his head and…
I’d imagined what it might feel like to have his mouth on me. Reality takes those fantasies and dashes them. So much for the idea of him partaking in tentative, sensual licking.
He stiffens his tongue, instead plunging it inside me so swiftly I cry out and nearly jolt from the mattress. It’s like he’s too eager to even play the game he seems to relish in—taunting.
Hetakes.It’s a sensation so different from anything else. Silk in lieu of steel, conforming to my every curve and contour. I stiffen as he traces my outer lips, displaying an almost feral attention to every detail. Tasting me in hungry flicks and searing breaths. Panting, I draw my knees up beside him, nonsense spilling from my mouth. Pleas. Praises. Curses.
He is too good at this. Too adept at manipulating his tongue to strike all the right spots. My clit. Then downward, teasing my entrance. Then inside swiftly. Then up again. Such skill betrays that hehadto have done this before.
But then a growl rips from him, vibrating all the way down to my core. One of shock—like a kid experiencing the taste of candy for the first time. Poof, a glutton is born.
And I’m at his mercy. His hands grip my thighs, nails piercing my flesh in a startling burst of pain. Trapped, I can only squirm as he lunges, applying more pressure. More vigor. More of everything.
My body goes off, climaxing so viciously I barely hear him groan above the sound of my racing heartbeat.
“The taste of you,” he grates, sounding crazed. “Incroyable.Never get enough…”
And he keeps going, long after I come once. Twice. Again. Soon, I’m shaking, my body drenched in sweat, voice wavering and broken.
“Please. No more… I can’t—” Fireworks explode down my spine as he suckles at my clit, drawing out the stimulation to an almost painful degree.“Vadim!”
“Addicting woman… Iwillpierce this,” he rasps in between nips, and I nearly go off all over again. At the last second, he draws back, leaving me teetering on the edge. Our gazes meet, his unfocused, glimpsed through slits, and I gasp for breath. He looks insane. Mad.
So desirable, it hurts.
“Please.” I part my legs eagerly as he steps forward, wrenching his briefs down his hips. His cock juts to attention, so thick my eyelids flutter at the sight.
He doesn’t hesitate to mount me, shoving in so deep I come again. And again.
Lost in a haze of pleasure, I hear him curse, his hips slamming over mine. Like gasoline poured onto a roaring inferno, the sensation of his release flooding my sheath sets me off yet again.
I cling to him, clawing at his back, marking him as brutally as he fucks his pleasure into me, still moving until his cock finally softens.
