Page 43 of The Russian's Innocent Prey
“You look like a goddess right now,” he said, his eyes roaming over my body. “So fucking perfect.”
“Touch me,” I begged. “Touch my tits.”
His hands moved to my breasts, squeezing and teasing my nipples. “Like this?”
“Yes! Oh, God, yes.”
“You’re close again, aren’t you?” He could feel it in the way I was clenching around him. “My greedy girl wants to come again.”
“Yes,” I admitted shamelessly. “Make me come.”
He sat up, wrapping one arm around my waist while his other hand found my clit. “Then take what you need.”
I rode him frantically, chasing my release. “I’m so close, so fucking close—”
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let me feel that tight pussy come all over my cock.”
The dirty words pushed me over the edge. I came with a cry, my body shaking with the intensity of it, and he followed moments later, groaning against my neck.
This time, when we collapsed together, we were both thoroughly spent. I slid off him and curled against his side.
“Give me five minutes,” I said breathlessly. “Then I want your cock in my mouth.”
He made a strangled sound. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Is it working?”
“Absolutely.”
Afterward, we lay tangled together in the darkness, my head on his chest, his fingers threading through my hair. I could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing, could hear the change in his breathing.
“Anya,” he murmured against the top of my head.
“Mmm?”
“You’re mine now. You know that, right?”
I lifted my head to look at him, seeing something in his expression I’d never seen before. Vulnerability. Hope. Fear that I might change my mind or realize I’d made a mistake.
“I’ve been yours since I was twenty,” I whispered back. “It just took me five years to admit it.”
His arms tightened around me, and for the first time since this whole nightmare began, I felt truly safe. Not because of the weapons hidden throughout the penthouse or the security measures Lev had put in place, but because of the way he was holding me.
Like I was something precious he’d never let go.
Like I was home.
Chapter 13 – Lev
Sunlight filtered through the curtains like liquid gold, painting Anya’s bare shoulder in warm hues as she pressed a soft kiss to my chest. The gesture was innocent enough, but it sent heat racing through my veins all the same.
“You planning to escape after last night, Mrs. Antonov?” My voice came out sleepy and raspy, rough from hours of whispering her name in the darkness.
She looked up at me through those thick lashes, her hazel eyes still soft with sleep and something deeper. Her lips brushed against my jawline as she nodded, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“I have a business to run,” she murmured against my skin. “Some of us can’t spend all day in bed.”
I shifted, rolling on top of her in one smooth movement, trapping her beneath me. Her laugh was like music, bright and genuine in a way that made my chest tight.
