Page 63 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
I pause long enough to drink in the sight of him, taking stock of just how hard his muscles are and the way they flex with his every movement. I could die right there and be happy forever from that image alone.
But looking at him like this, eyes veiled with lust while his chest rises and falls heavier with every breath, I can’t let it end here. I need more, and I always will.
A small, satisfied hum comes from Mikhail’s chest when I reach forward and run my fingers along his chest and down his abdomen. His lips pull, and he moves back in again, brushing his nose against mine.
“It should be a crime for one person to look like this,” I mumble, feeling as he slowly pushes my shirt up higher, exposing more and more of my skin.
“If that were the case, you’d be just as guilty as me,” he returns with a teasing lilt. He gently nips at my lower lip, making my breath catch. Chuckling, his lips move down, making contactwith my clothed chest before kissing lower and reaching my bare skin.
I shiver at every brush of his mouth against my body, noting how the shirt moves higher until my breasts are exposed, and I swear a new kind of hunger possesses him entirely.
His lips follow until he reaches one side, wasting no time lapping against my nipple and pulling it in his mouth.
My breath hitches at the immediate sparks, and I arch involuntarily, letting my body seek out more of it. My body heats up with nothing but need while my hands roam his back and shoulders, encouraging him through every touch.
At the small, breathy sounds escaping my lips, Mikhail’s appeasement vibrates through me while he flicks his tongue against me, getting lost in his ministrations. His hands keep their firm hold on me, as if unwilling to let me go.
When he pulls off my breast and continues down, there’s a newer, darker heat behind his eyes. It’s unrelenting and all-consuming, leaving me nearly trembling in anticipation.
He drifts over my stomach, sliding his palms over my waist and hips, gliding down to brush his lips along my thighs. Propping my legs up slightly, he moves in, kissing my inner thighs while parting them.
I’m prepared to lose my mind while his fingers toy with the waistband of my underwear, the closer he gets, tugging on them without pulling the fabric down.
Despite how badly I want him and everything he’s prepared to give me, I hesitate, tensing just enough to catch his attention.
Mikhail pauses, sliding his gaze up to me from his suggestive position. “Everything okay?”
My words catch in my throat at first, already knowing it’ll sound stupid. But I murmur anyway, “I…haven’t showered yet.”
His brows go up slightly as if I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing. But his expression relaxes into an amused one, and he chuckles against my thigh before leaving a soft kiss there. His one hand situates itself on the back of my propped leg while the other slowly eases the fabric to the side.
“If you think something like that will stop me from pleasuring you…think again.”
His words send another shiver rippling through me, but it’s overshadowed by the immediate rush of electricity through my core at the swipe of his tongue against me.
I can hardly process just how intense it feels before he’s doing it again, stroking my sensitive flesh with his tongue. I arch further while my eyes shut, and I reach blindly for his hair, sliding my fingers through his locks.
As if he’s gaining the same amount of pleasure as I am, Mikhail hums against me and continues, exploring every inch of me like it’s the first time. It takes every ounce of strength I have to not come apart already from the sheer force of his enthusiasm.
He works me with a finesse that has my hips moving on their own, growing even hungrier. Then, with an irritated growl against me, he grips the fabric and tears it with minimal effort.
My breath hitches, surprised by the sound of the material pulling apart. It catches me off guard, making my cheeks warm.
“They were in my way,” he murmurs against me before moving in and guiding my hips to offer him a better angle.
The onslaught of new sensations, along with his sheer determination to let me feel everything deeply, forces more full-bodied moans from my throat, and my fingers pull at his hair a bit tighter.
Every tug and sound of encouragement only makes him work harder, and before long, he has me questioning who this is really for.
Losing myself in the throes of it, my head tips back, and I find myself slowly rocking against him, seeking as much friction as I can get. The moans and soft gasps leave me with little resistance, and I have every intention of soaking it all in.
Then, like something has snapped in him, Mikhail groans against me, kissing my thighs before moving over me.
I almost whimper from the loss of pleasure, but he’s on me immediately, nipping at my neck in between, pulling the shirt off me completely.
“As much as I wanted to make you come like that, I’m not feeling particularly patient right now,” he says against my lips, voice rough before pulling me in for another deep, needy kiss.
I hum into it, feeling almost dizzy from the force of it. Getting lost in the feeling of his lips claiming every inch of mine, I hardly register as his belt is undone, then his sweatpants are pushed down and discarded, followed by his boxers.
