Page 68 of Cruel Russian Monster
“I’ve already rested.”
His mouth moved to my neck, then lower. He trailed kisses down my body as he pushed my top upward. I gasped softly when his lips brushed over my stomach. His fingers found my nipples through the fabric of my bra, teasing them until I was squirming.
Instead of unclasping it, he tugged the cups down, exposing me to the cool air and to his hungry silver eyes. The second his mouth closed over one nipple, warm and wet, I swore I saw fireworks behind my eyelids.
“Jaroslav, we can’t…” I moaned.
He stopped immediately, his eyes flicking up to mine. His hand moved to readjust my bra, but I caught his wrist gently.
“It’s not because I don’t want to,” I whispered, breathless. “It’s because my brothers are still here. They’ve refused to leave until they know that you’re okay.”
Jaroslav arched a brow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he tugged at my top, and I lifted my arms without hesitation. Heunclasped my bra and slid it off, then pulled my top back down with careful hands.
He rolled onto his back, pulling me against him. One arm circled my waist, and with the other, he teased my nipples through the thin fabric. The friction made me shift restlessly against his thigh as I sought relief from the ache he’d ignited.
“You know this is the second time you’ve taken care of me,” he murmured.
“Of course I did,” I whispered. “You’re my husband.”
His hands stilled.
It was the first time I had called Jaroslav my husband. Yes, I had called myself his wife once, but I guessed from the intense look that crossed his face that my saying it meant something to him.
“On top.”
I blinked down at him. “You’re hurt.”
“Don’t make me say it again, Vera.”
There was something in his voice, its soft growling command, that made my insides flutter. Made me want to please him.
I moved, straddling him carefully. He guided me over his erection, positioning me exactly where he wanted. The pressure alone pulled a moan from my lips.
“We…can’t,” I moaned, barely able to finish the thought.
“We’re not doing anything,” he teased, a wicked smile on his lips. “At least not with our clothes off. And make no mistake, Vera, I do want your clothes off.”
God, I wanted that too, so damn much.
I closed my eyes, and my thighs clenched around his.
“But, in case your brothers decide to come running in…”
My eyes flew open, and I rolled them.
“That is not helping my mood…”
He smirked. “Will this help your mood, Vera?”
His fingers pinched both nipples, just enough to make me gasp. I arched into his touch, lips parting on another moan. The friction of our bodies, the tension between wanting and restraint, was driving me insane.
“I need you to move over me, Vera,” he murmured. “My hands are busy.”
I started to roll my hips against him slowly, drawing out every pulse of pleasure. Every grind made me ache harder for more…for him.
God, I wanted to rip my clothes off. I wanted to sink onto him, feel him fill me, own me…But I held back, walking right on the edge.
My thighs clenched around him again, my release almost there…and then he shifted.
