Page 60 of Not Part of the Plan
“Just relax, baby,” he breathed. “Relax for me.”
Her breaths were short, sexy little gasps, but little by little, he felt her muscles give until his last inch slid into her. Those green eyes, the knowing and the wonder in them, convinced Niko that he’d never forget this exact moment for as long as he walked the earth.
With a patience he didn’t know he had inside him, Niko slowly pulled out, gritting his teeth at the sensation. He took his time, sliding back into her until they were one. It was her throaty little moan that pushed him over the edge. That and the fingers she stabbed into his shoulders. Emma’s legs opened wider, welcoming him, and he snapped.
He took and took until sweat slicked their skin, driving into her as if powered by a primitive force deep in his DNA. His feet dug into the mattress as he drove himself home. Emma’s hips pumped in sync as they climbed together.
She fit him, clamped around him, and every stroke, every thrust, was an unimaginable pleasure.
He worried he was being too rough, but when he murmured that concern into the curve of her neck, she only begged for more. Emma hitched her legs around him, pulling him as deep as he could go.
There was nothing beyond this bed, this room, that mattered anymore. Niko knew his reason for being writhed under him in a quest for release, and he would take her there.
Their mouths met and tangled again as his body fed on hers. She gave him everything he asked for, met every thrust with an eager arch. He was hanging on by a fine silver thread when he felt her begin to quicken around him.
“Yes, baby. My Emma,” he breathed into her. He shifted just slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and let them both go. He came with her, that first shuddering contraction around his dick forced him over the edge. He held on long enough to match her wave for wave, loosing himself into her until he was empty and she was quivering and blind beneath him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
He’d branded her soul, Emma thought as she fought her way through the bleary aftershocks of pleasure. Nikolai Vulkov had just destroyed her for any other man, past or future. She was ruined. And she couldn’t care less.
He’d collapsed on her, spent and satisfied, before rolling to the side and gathering her into him. And here she rested, lips smugly curved and the scent of their lovemaking hanging in the air.
She’d never be able to look at this bed without seeing him ranging over her, his dark eyes possessive and lustful.
God, she was going to have to get a new bed when Niko left Blue Moon. Hell, she was going to need a house that didn’t carry the ghosts of sexual perfection.
“You’re smiling.” Niko’s lips moved against her hair.
“I don’t think my face is capable of anything but this right now,” she sighed, refusing to open her eyes.
“Do me a favor and stay there,” he said, slipping out of bed.
Emma obliged, finding no desire to get back to life. She wanted to bask here, her body loose and wonderfully used, perfectly sated.
She snuggled into the pillow and thought of nothing but how good she felt.
The quiet click of a shutter had her lazily opening one eye.
Click.
Naked and unapologetic, Niko stood over her, camera held to his eye. “Just like that. Satisfied, smug, fucking beautiful.”
She arched an eyebrow at him, and he clicked away. “Is this a photographer’s version of a sex tape?” Emma asked, working her fingers through her tangle of curls.
“Very funny. This is a photographer’s version of perfection. So shut up and smile at me like you own me.”
She did just that and laughed as his shutter clicked in rapid succession.
“What are you doing?” she asked finally.
“Trust me, Emma. You’re going to love these,” he told her, putting the camera on the nightstand and sliding in next to her.
“Don’t even think about showing those to anyone ever,” she warned him.
“When you see these, you’ll want the world to see them.”
“I doubt that very much.”
