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I carry her across the open living space of my apartment to the bed that occupies one corner, and leaning down, I lay her gently across the blankets. I settle on top of her, relishing the way her legs spread to accommodate me.
“We should definitely do this more often,” she murmurs against my lips. Her fingers comb into my hair, tangling in my unruly locks.
I hum my approval. How is it that Alina manages to pleasantly surprise me at every turn? I was almost certain that seeing my apartment would be a major turn-off for her. But here she is, telling me she wants more of this.
“You deserve more than just late-night booty calls,” I rasp as I shower her flesh with affection.
Alina giggles, her breasts rising and falling more rapidly beneath the onslaught. “I don’t need fancy dates all the time. That’s hardly sustainable. Besides, I just want some time alone with you, time when I don’t have to think about how I touch you or who might see.”
“You’re freaking sexy when you talk like that,” I growl, my hands exploring her body more intentionally as I slip my fingers beneath her shirt.
“Like what?” she breathes, writhing provocatively beneath me.
“Like you want me all to yourself,” I murmur, guiding her shirt up so I can kiss the swells of her breasts.
“That’s exactly what I want,” she moans, gathering my shirt and pulling it up my back to my shoulders.
I let her undress me, dipping my head and raising my arms to make it easier. Then I roll, putting her on top of me so I can remove her shirt. She’s sexy, straddling me like a cowgirl as she raises her arms above her head.
Gold waves cascade down her back and around her shoulders as her head reappears. And like a true temptress, she reaches back to unhook her bra with slow, seductive purpose.
“Christ, you’re perfect,” I groan, sitting up to capture one pert nipple in my mouth.
I suck hard, and my cock throbs when she whimpers. Fingers splayed across her back and shoulder blades, I hold her close as I turn my attention to her second breast.
“Oh, my God, that feels so good,” she gasps, her hips rolling on top of me and making my balls ache with need.
Continuing to nip and suck her taut nipples, I reach between us to pop the button of her jeans. Then I ease my hand inside her pants, slipping my fingers beneath her panties to feel how wet she is.
She’s positively dripping.
27
ALINA
Electric arousal jolts through my core as Mishka traces my seam and presses a finger inside my entrance.
“Oh, God!” I gasp as my walls tighten, threatening to launch me into my first orgasm before we’ve hardly done anything. But I can’t seem to help myself. Mishka’s attention to my surprisingly tender nipples is making it nearly impossible to breathe, and my core is throbbing with need.
So when his finger slips out of me and he rolls on top of me once more, I’m already on the verge of panting. I love the freedom of movement his apartment gives us, the natural exhilaration of lying on the bed where he sleeps. It smells like him, masculine and earthy with a hint of leather and citrus.
As he guides my pants down my legs, I’m giddy with the prospect of being utterly alone with him—without fear of getting caught or someone interrupting us—for the first time since we were lost in the woods.
Mishka rises as he strips me, taking my tennies at the same time as my jeans, and as he tosses my clothes aside, he stands at the foot of the bed, his gaze smoldering as he admires me. I give him a sexy pose, letting my arms fall languorously above my head as I bend my knees and open my thighs to give him a full view.
He groans, the sound doing funny things to my chest as my heart flutters. Then his fingers get to work unbuttoning his pants. He shoves them down, kicking them and his boxers aside in one go. My mouth waters at the sight of his erection standing at the ready.
His demon tattoo seems to come to life across his ripped chest, the tongue lolling from its mouth, promising me sinful pleasure, and when he slowly climbs back onto the bed, stalking up my body like a lion on the prowl, my stomach quivers.
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed,” he rasps, dipping between my thighs to brush a kiss across my clit.
I gasp as a throbbing excitement pulses through me. I’ve pictured it too. A lot. I’ve wanted this so desperately, I couldn’t keep waiting for an invitation. And now that we’re here, I’m so glad I asked him to bring me here, to be in the space he considers home and see how he lives before we turned our attention to intimacy.
Mishka’s lips vanish from the peak of my thighs as he slides up my body, his hips settling on top of mine. The feel of his silken tip pressing adamantly against my entrance stops my breath and awakens that now-familiar craving deep in my belly.
We’ve been using condoms since our first night together—a necessary precaution, but still, I ache to feel him inside me with nothing separating us, no latex to impede the incomparable sensation of skin against skin as he enters me. Nothing is more intimate than that.
I have half a mind to risk it, to ask him to fuck me raw, but I quickly kick that irresponsible thought to the curb and focus on kissing the ink that decorates his pecs. Leaning toward his nightstand, Mishka opens the drawer and pulls out a foil wrapper.
