Page 46 of Pay the Piper

My release threatens already at the heat in her eyes as she reaches to undo my belt and take what she wants.

“Tell me first…Who did you buy this perfect, sinful, intoxicating dress for? Did you buy it with me in mind, knowing that the color of your eyes haunts me every moment, whether I’m awake or asleep?”

“You,” she answers without hesitation. “I bought it for you.”

“And do you care to wear it ever again?”

Chapter 19

“And do you care to wear it ever again?”

“No—”

With a rip that echoes all the way to my core, my beautiful dress pools at my hips before I can finish my thought.

“Jesus Christ, Abby…fuck!”

Misha’s chest heaves as he looks down at my half-naked body. I chose the sexiest lingerie I own for tonight, and the emerald-green lace seems to have the desired effect. Misha looks at me with a predatory gaze, eyes almost completely black and hungry for what they see. His hands go to my hips and work their way up the curve of my body, slowly, as if he’s memorizing every inch. From my waist to my breast to my neck…God, my neck. Liquid fire flows through me as both of his hands wrap almost completely around it. His grip is gentle but present, and he pulls me toward him slightly while he bends down.

Not a hair’s breadth separates us, and this close, his stare is intoxicating. Misha is a drug of his own, and the longer he holds me here, the deeper I fall into my high.

“You’re unbelievable, lesnaya,” he breathes into my ear, nuzzling against my throat.

The heat from his words against my skin is all it takes to lose the last of my resolve, and I melt into him, moaning when I feel the effect of his desire.

He groans as his head falls back, his tight control unraveling for just a moment. I want to see him lose it completely. He scoops me into his arms, and in a flash, I’m perched on the edge of his bed. He steps back and makes quick work of taking off his shirt and pants, never breaking eye contact with me. He stops when he gets to his briefs, running his hand through his hair as he takes me in, and I can’t help but grin. I’ve never been appreciated like this, and especially not by a man as handsome and incredible as Misha. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s always in such control, I would almost believe it’s an act, but there’s no way to hide the physical evidence of his hunger for me. His heart beats faster than I’ve ever noticed before, even in the most intense moments of our training. The gray of his irises is almost completely gone, and his eyes are impossibly darker than before. And then, of course, there’s the undeniable tent in his briefs.

Of course, I saw him the last time we tried this, but I had almost chalked its size up to my imagination. As he pulls down the last of his clothing, I realize that I didn’t misremember. His enormous, decorated cock springs free from its restraint and stands proudly in the air, precum already beading at the tip, more proof of the effect I have on this glorious man.

He smirks at my involuntary gasp, and I roll my eyes. The loaded tension in the air dissipates as we both chuckle. His gaze softens, and for the first time since he tore my dress off, he doesn’t look at me like a piece of meat to be devoured, but rather something to be cherished.

Misha bridges the small gap between us and drops to his knees before me. Kneeling between my legs, he mumbles in Russian before bringing my foot to his mouth. He kisses my ankle, sending chills all the way up my body and distracting me completely as he removes my heel. He repeats this torture with my other foot and slowly continues his pursuit up my calf, to the inside of my knee, to my thigh, to my…oh fuck.

Even over the lace of my thong, his kiss has my legs shaking. I know it would only take a few strokes of his tongue on my clit and I’d find my release. Even through the fabric’s barrier, it wouldn’t take much, but I want more. The memory of his mouth against my skin sends a chill through me. I need it. I need his tongue on me—no. I need him inside me.

I’m still wearing my lingerie, and with each passing moment, I’m reminded of how badly I want it off. “Misha?”

He stops immediately and looks up at me with fear in his eyes. “What is it? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

God, he’s adorable. “No, well yes. I mean…Please don’t stop. But I need these off.”

“As you wish.” Mischievousness replaces the worry on his face, and he pulls my thong down my legs. “I wanted to rip that off as well, but not as much as I want to take it off again.”

He moves to put his head back between my legs but pauses, his gaze turning predatory once again at the sight of my bare pussy. The fire in his eyes dissolves any insecurities I had about my unwaxed curls.

“You really don’t mind that I’m not bare?”

“Mind it?” He dips his head down, twirling one of my curls with his tongue. “You’re not a child, Abby, you’re a woman. You’re my woman. And as such, I relish your divine femininity.”

I gasp as he lowers his head again, his tongue finding my clit, but one lick is all I allow before I’m pulling his head up. He looks up at me, bewildered. “Baby, are—”

“I need you,” I whisper.

He stands with the grace I’ve come to expect from him, but with more than I’ve ever seen in a man of his size, and pulls at one of my bra straps.

“In that case…” Reaching around me, he unclasps my bra in one quick swipe and groans when my heavy breasts fall free. He’s on me in a flash, sucking a nipple into his mouth while he adjusts me farther back on the bed, and crawls in after me.

By the time he’s boxed me between his arms, his mouth has traveled back up my neck to the sweet spot he’s discovered. I’ve never experienced it firsthand, but I’ve read about it. A whisper of pleasure that tingles right at the junction of my collarbone and neck.