Page 47 of Unholy Tsar

“No. You aren’t done yet,” I groan and thrust my index finger inside her, determined to draw out her orgasm as long as I can. Her cries grow louder and louder as I fuck her with my finger like I would my cock.

She’s still in the throes of her orgasm when I stop. But I can’t take being outside of her any longer. Trembling with desire, I tear off what’s left of my pants.

My cock is so hard it hurts when it springs free. With frantic movements, I get back on my knees and rub my thick head through her folds, coating myself in her wetness. But even that’s too much.

No one else can unravel me like she can. I hate it. I love it.

“My turn."

Shifting my hips, I notch my cock on her entrance. With one forceful shove, I bury my entire length inside her.

“Maksim!” She lets out a blaring scream of pleasure, and I groan as I sink home. More. Deeper. I strain to get further in, but I’m already at the root, my pelvis stroking her ass.

Her cunt squeezes me tightly, sending bolts of lightning up my spine. Fuck, I’m not going to last.

“Don’t you dare make me cum yet,” I order, my voice dripping with lust. “I want more.”

Reaching around, I start stroking her clit again, all while thrusting harder and harder.

“You feel so fucking amazing,” she sobs, dropping her head to the floor. I can barely hear her above the rhythmic sound of flesh slapping flesh. I twist my hips relentlessly, continuing to lead her with my hand. She cums again, her back curving up, her nails digging into the bathroom tiles.

I want this to last forever, but I only manage two more thrusts before I’m cumming as well.

“Fucking hell, Cecelia!” I shout her name to the ceiling, my body shuddering as I spill myself into her. My arms shake on either side, still holding her tightly before I collapse onto her back with a satisfied sigh.

“Holy shit.”

I rest my head on her shoulder, my heart thundering in my chest. Fuck, what was that? I’ve never been this out of control before. Never so desperate to fuck anyone. Not even when I was a fucking teenager.

“Uh, can you move?” she croaks, her body melting into the floor.

“Shit, sorry.” I roll away from her, giving us room to breathe as I lie on my back and study the ceiling. There’s no way my men don’t know what just happened. Hell, they all saw her in my arms before I chased them off.

I trust my men, but there’s no way some bits and pieces of this won’t leak out. That means I’ve all but confirmed that there’s some truth to the Italian dons’ rumors.

It’s going to cause me countless headaches.

And yet, I wouldn’t change a thing. Fuck. I’d do it again a thousand times over. I will do it again countless times. And part of me wants to stay here on the floor with her, catching our breaths together forever.

But a sharp ringtone shatters the quiet and snaps me out of my foolish fantasy. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I get off the floor and drag up my pants so I can take out my phone. It’s Dante.

Fuck. After the way I chased everyone out earlier, he wouldn’t be calling unless there was a real emergency.

I wanted to linger in my fantasy for a little while longer. But in my line of work, there’s no such thing as time off.

Dante starts speaking the second I answer the call.

“I’m sorry to, uh, interrupt, sir, but we just discovered another drug den like the one we disbanded the other night. They’ve been hitting up schools in the area too. We need to know your next move.”

Damn it. Those fucking drug dealers are like a termite infestation. When did they get so brazen?

“Alright. Give me ten minutes,” I grunt before hanging up. Ten minutes is a luxury I can’t afford right now, but I’m reluctant to leave my Myshka’s side. Still, I sigh as I turn to face her… and do a double take when I see she’s already dressed.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Sounds like you have somewhere to be. Thought I’d help move you along.”

“Don’t you want to take a shower first?”