Page 34 of Sin Wager
He drags me across his lap until I’m straddling him, my knees digging into the cushions. His cock is thick and hard under his trousers, pressing hot against my bare heat. The friction makes me gasp, and his hand snaps to my throat, tilting my head back.
“You know what you do to me.” His teeth scrape my jaw, his other hand gripping my ass, dragging me tighter against him. “Grinding on my cock like that—getting me hard enough to tear you apart.”
I move against him without thinking, desperate for more. The rough fabric of his trousers catches on my clit, sparks shooting through me, and a broken sound leaves my throat.
“That’s it. Rub yourself on me. Show me how much you want it.”
“I want it,” I pant, heat curling low in my belly. “God, Misha—I want you.”
He chuckles darkly, sliding his hand between us. Thick fingers stroke through my folds, teasing, keeping me on edge. My body jerks against him, chasing the pressure.
“Greedy little thing,” he mutters, slipping one finger inside, then another. “Clenching around my hand like you’re begging for more.”
The stretch burns, then melts into pleasure. I ride his fingers, his thumb circling my clit. My head falls forward, mouth against his throat, panting into his skin.
“You’re going to come on my hand first,” he growls, curling his fingers deeper. “I’ll have you shaking before I bury myself inside you.”
My body tightens, the sensation spiraling out of control. I grip his suit jacket, shaking, the orgasm tearing through me fast and rough. I cry out against his neck, hips jerking uncontrollably. My body spasms and contorts and when I calm down I can barely breathe.
“Good girl,” he rasps, pulling his fingers free, shining with my slick. He shoves them between my lips, making me taste myself. “Now you’re ready for my cock.”
He pulls his fingers from my mouth and stands, hauling me up with him. His chest rises against mine, his hand still tangled in my hair.
“Stay right here.” His voice is dark, final. “Don’t move.”
I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, watching as he tears open his shirt, buttons scattering across the floor. He shrugs out of the fabric, then strips off his jacket and tosses both aside. The hard lines of his chest, the tattoos spread over muscle and scar, steal my words.
My fingers twitch with the urge to touch. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
He smirks, eyes narrowing. “Beautiful isn’t the word, little one. Dangerous is.” His belt snaps open, trousers shoved down with rough efficiency until his cock is free and heavy, flushed and hard. He grips himself once, stroking slowly, his eyes locked on me. “And this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my thighs pressing together. “I want you.”
“Then come take me.”
I step forward, my hands trembling as I push at his chest, guiding him back against the sofa. He lets me, but the moment he sits, his grip clamps around my wrist, pulling me down ontohis lap with a grunt. His cock presses hot against my stomach, my breasts crushed against his chest.
“You’re not in control here, Vera,” he growls into my ear. “I am.”
“Then make me yours,” I fire back, my nails dragging down his shoulders.
His eyes blaze at the challenge. “Gladly.”
He grabs my hips, lifts me, and lines me over his cock, the blunt head pressing against my entrance.
He holds me suspended for a beat, his cock thick and straining at my entrance, the head nudging just inside. My whole body tightens, desperate for more.
“Look at me,” he demands, his grip bruising on my hips. “I want to see your face when I stretch you.”
My eyes lock on his, wide and hungry, and then he drags me down. The air tears out of my lungs as he sinks deep, inch by inch, filling me until I can’t breathe. The stretch is relentless, my body clinging to him, trying to take all of him.
“God,” I choke out, my nails biting into his shoulders. “You’re—so deep.”
“Every inch,” he snarls, grinding up hard. “You take me better than anyone. You were made for this cock.”
A cry breaks from my throat as he thrusts again, harder this time. His hands guide me, forcing me to ride him, bouncing me onto his lap with a punishing rhythm. My breasts press against his chest, my clit catching on the thick base with every movement.
“Yes,” I gasp, clinging to him. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop.”
