Page 91 of Lethal Obsession

My laughter chokes in my throat as his hand trails down my shoulder until it finds my nipple, his thumb gently moving over it so the wetness mingles with the night air.

“Oh,” I gasp, my head dropping back as he slowly thumbs first one nipple, then the other, my entire torso rippling under his touch. When I open my eyes again, his cock is barely inches from my mouth.

My lips part, and Alexei gives a low cough of laughter. “That,” he says, “is definitely going to happen. But not tonight.” Sliding his hands down from my breasts and around my waist, he lifts me back onto the bed, propping me up on the pillows.

He stares down at me with that same dangerous smile. “You’re not the only one who has thought about this, angel.” One lone finger touches the arch of my foot and moves, agonizingly slowly, up my calf. “As a matter of fact, lately I’ve thought about nothing but this.” The finger travels over my knee, my legs parting and back arching as he moves tantalizingly higher. “And you might think you want this hard and fast.” His knee comes between my legs, and his mouth drops to mine, kissing me with a fierce heat that makes me writhe beneath him. “But I promise you,” he murmurs, moving his mouth lower, toward the nipple arching up toward him, “that this time, at least, slow is better.”

Then he finds my nipple, and I’m lost.

His tongue is slow, deliberate, and lethal, curling around the hot point until I’m breathless. His body has me pinned in place, but I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I’ve gone utterly still, my entire world narrowed to the slow passage of his tongue lathing my flesh. When he finally takes my nipple in his mouth, my blood is pounding, my entire body taut as a wire.

Achingly slowly, he shifts his mouth to the other nipple, his fingers replacing his tongue on the breast he just left, pressing the flesh beneath the throbbing point, his thumb barely touching it. His mouth works my other nipple with the same unhurried certainty, each stroke of his tongue spiraling me further into mindless submission. My eyes close, my breath coming in short gasps.

He tongues each breast slowly at first, then, as I start to ripple beneath him, with increasing pressure. My hands clutch at his head, pressing it closer to my nipples, moaning when he leaves one to enclose the other. His fingers move with his tongue until I can barely tell them apart, my world reduced to the movement of his hands and mouth.

I don’t realize I’m going to come until the first sudden spasms hit me like an electric current. My mouth opens wide in a silent, breathless scream, and I writhe beneath his relentless mouth, my hands clutching at his hair. My pelvis lifts from the bed, pulsing in hot, wet, urgent waves.

It’s a different orgasm to any I’ve ever given myself, and it leaves me panting for more, my body both utterly relaxed and incredibly aroused.

Alexei raises his mouth from my breasts and kisses me hard and deep, his shaft pounding against my thigh. His lips travel down my neck and skim my breasts again, avoiding my still-sensitive nipples as he makes his way to my abdomen.

“Christ,” he murmurs as his hands slide down my body and around my thighs. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He moans with satisfaction as his tongue slides between my legs. I buck off the bed like I’ve been electrocuted. I don’t need him to tell me I’m wet. I can feel it in the way his tongue slides and strokes my swollen center, still throbbing with the aftershocks of orgasm, his thumbs slicking through the coating on my outer lips.

He tongues me gently, avoiding my clit as I gradually come down from the savage pulsing, slow ripples of new pleasure building inside me. He slides a finger inside me, then another. I move with his hand, caught in an almost hypnotic wave of sensation.

Oh. My lips part in a silent cry as his fingers move inside me, my hands clutching at his head as he works me with thumb and mouth. My legs strain wider, my movements becoming more urgent.

Slowly his fingers slide out of me, and I hear the crackle of foil as he slips on a condom.

Moving up my body, he lowers his mouth to my ear. “Are you ready, angel?”

I nod wordlessly, my hands clenching his shoulders. He reaches between us, and I gasp at the unfamiliar sensation of the blunt head entering me. He pauses for a moment, but I’m so wet, and so ready, that I raise my hips, urging him onward.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice low and hoarse. “Do that again, and this will be over before we start.” Then he hits the spongy barrier and halts, raising himself so his eye searches mine as he rocks gently inside me. “This is going to hurt, angel,” he says, his voice rasping with the effort of restraint.

I raise my lips to his ear. “Then hurt me.”

His eye narrows, darkening. “Christ.”

One solid push, a moment of pain, and he’s inside me, buried to the hilt, pushing the breath from my body and sending my every nerve into overdrive.

For a moment he rests there, but my body doesn’t want to rest. His cock pulsing inside me, his scarred body hard over mine, is better than any of my fantasies. Better than anything I ever imagined when I touched myself. The sensation of being filled by him sends me to a place I never even dreamed of.

“Oh!” My legs wrap around him, my lips rubbing against his jaw. “Oh, God, Alexei.”

Groaning, he slides his hands beneath my ass, lifting me to an angle that makes me want to scream, and then he’s moving, slowly at first, then, as I moan and move with him, faster, his cock hitting places inside me that make me gasp and cling to him.

“Fuck, Ofelia,” he mutters in my ear. “You feel incredible.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe, surging against him. My hands slide up his back, holding him to me, but he’s too strong for me to restrain, moving with an uncompromising control that is as inevitable as a tide. My hands twine in his hair, touching the leather strap of his eye patch. I slip my fingers under it, and Alexei momentarily stills. His eye finds mine in the shadowy light, and his head moves to one side. It’s the slightest movement, but enough to tell me the eye patch is a boundary he can’t yet cross.

I slide my fingers away again.

I know how that feels. To have scars that mean something beyond the pain that caused them. I understand how they feel somehow more private than the most intimate parts of your body.

The boundary doesn’t hurt me, because this is how it always was between Alexei and me, back in that cell. Tiny, minute communications, the merest blink of an eye, the flicker of a finger, the breath of a whisper. It’s these subtleties that create the intensity between us. The silent understanding that I always wondered if I just imagined.