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“Not teasing,” he said, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Making sure I won’t hurt you.”
“And you have. Now fuck me.”
His laugh sent a shiver of warning through me. I tightened my fingers in his hair when he scissored his fingers, sending a whole new sensation through me. Not letting me recover, he fucked me hard and fast with his fingers.
A low rumble of satisfaction filled his chest when I fell apart, coming so violently that stars and darkness replaced my vision of him.
“Goddamn, Vasya,” he groaned, sliding his fingers out of me, and while I still bucked and twitched, replacing them with the sudden stretch of his cock.
“Oh, shit,” I gasped, my eyes rolling back at the feeling of him driving into me, the fullness and pressure so fucking satisfying I couldn’t hold in my groans. Every forceful thrust prolonged my orgasm until I was shuddering against him, clutching my husband to me as wave after wave of pleasure destroyed me.
“Your pussy is gripping me so fucking good,” Damien groaned, lips dragging down my throat. “My perfect, sexy fucking wife, taking my cock like the good girl she is.”
I whimpered, my pussy clenching around him in a powerful spasm.
“Think I can fuck you right into a second orgasm, my queen?”
“Yes,” I gasped, and then, “Oh god,” when he made good on his threat, upping his pace until I shook with the force building inside me.
That angle, and the force of his thrusts… Pleasure magnified until only whining breaths escaped me, until all I could do was slam my eyes shut, cling to Damien, and let the climax rush over me, destructive in its force.
“Vasya,” Damien grunted. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m right there with you.”
His hips slammed into mine in an erratic rhythm, his fingers pressing into my hips, dragging me against him to meet every desperate thrust until he clutched me close and groaned his pleasure.
I panted in the last throes of my climax, my head fuzzy as his cock danced and shuddered over the sensitive spots inside me, each one corresponding to a gravelly noise from deep in Damien’s throat.
Wilting with a sigh, I rested my head on his chest and kept my legs wrapped around his waist, pleasantly hazy and warm. We stayed like that for long, long minutes, until his soft cock slipped out of me and made clean-up necessary.
Damien took me again in the shower, slower and loving, our mouths fused in an endless kiss and our arms wrapped around each other. By the time I was dressed—again—and eating breakfast, I felt even more hopeful than before. It wouldn’t always be this easy, but I clutched these precious moments close to my chest.
Damien’s phone rang as we finished eating, sitting at the kitchen island so close our legs touched. He snatched it up instantly, his body rife with new tension. I set my hand on his knee and stroked with my thumb, resting my head on his shoulder until some of the stress leached out of him.
“Have you found him?” he demanded. Seconds passed, and then he sighed, his hand covering mine. “Good. Keep me updated.”
I peered up at him, a question in my eyes when he pushed his phone away.
“They’ve tracked Finch to a house. Jonathan and Eli have a whole team moving in on the place now.”
I smiled, turning my face to kiss his jaw. “It’s almost over.”
We were so close to being safe, I could almost taste Armand Finch’s blood on my tongue.
CHAPTER 24
DAMIEN
Sweat dripped from my forehead and rolled off the tip of my nose as I pushed on the chest press, the small gym in the apartment quiet except for the clang of weights shifting and my laboured breaths. I’d been working out for an hour now, and I was almost ready to crawl off the bench and call it a day. My chest pinched with anxiety and dread walked like moth’s wings down my spine at being away from Vasilisa for so long.
But I was doing this for a reason, tormenting myself for an end goal—to prove to her, and to myself, that I could be more than the panic-driven, controlling bastard who locked her in the bathroom. I knew she was in the flat, not on the balcony, because I asked her to stay inside and she agreed without hesitation. I focused on that fact to get me through the final set of reps, panting for air but clear-headed.
Dr. Korte said exercise could help when I felt my control slipping. He’d be a smug bastard when I told him he was right.
I gritted my teeth against the pull in my muscles, a grunt of exertion ripping from my lips as I pushed through the final three reps and sank back against the seat. I snagged the towel I’d brought and wiped my face, my neck, and over the white vest that had turned transparent the longer I spent working out.
When I threw the towel aside, my eyes caught on a slim, blonde temptation leaning in the doorway. There was no fear or unease in Vasilisa’s eyes, which instantly released the anxiety in my chest; there was only dark, luminous hunger in her rich chocolate stare.
Blood rushed to my cock, faster when I watched her pale throat bob as she poured that hungry stare down my body.
