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Oh, my.
Maisy lost her ability to think, the wicked images he had put in her head heating her blood. She wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor him to her and made her own soft, satisfied sound under the impact of his mouth on hers. She winced as her shoulder gave a sharp tug and he instantly rolled onto his back, his arm around her waist, to pull her over on top of him.
For an instant she felt a wave of disappointment. Was he going to pull away from her again?
Instead he framed her face with his big hands. ‘Better for your shoulder,’ he muttered against her mouth, lifting to kiss her again, and a rush of real warmth ran through Maisy because he was looking after her.
Being on top also allowed her to set the pace. She fused her mouth to his, tasting the salt and spice and goodness of him, her hands meshing in his hair as she swept her tongue into his mouth. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She knew the mechanics, what went where, but her single dismal experience had left her with very little understanding of what he was going to like. She hoped if she pleased herself it would please him too.
His hands were on her back, searching for the ends of his shirt and rucking it up. He spread his fingers over her cool bare skin, sweeping his hands down over her hips until he had the little scrap of lace clinging to her bottom beneath his fingers. He squeezed the lush weight of her buttocks and her knees dropped instinctively to either side of his hips. The impressive erection contained in his jeans was nestled in exactly the right spot for her, and he groaned as Maisy gave an experimental wriggle, then settled over him. He obliged, using his hands on her hips to work her rhythmically against him.
Maisy began to pant, making little gasping noises, and Alexei thought the sound alone was going to undo him. It was incredible. He felt like a teenage boy all over again, barely able to keep a leash on the urges rushing through his body. It was all Maisy—the feel and smell and look of her, and the way she used his body to satisfy herself. Something had tipped in her favour early on in this encounter and he had lost the upper hand. If he’d ever had it. He began to growl her name and her thighs clenched around him.
That deep note in his voice always pulled on her inner muscles, and combined with the friction of him under her it lit the match and Maisy moaned, body taut, as her core dissolved into liquid sunshine. Unable to believe what had happened, she pressed her mouth into the base of his throat, face blood-red, and trembled on top of him with tiny aftershocks. Oh, God—she had used him as a sex toy.
Alexei was sitting her up, moving her on past the moment, so that she was virtually straddling his lap. His bigger body made her feel small and delicate in his arms, vulnerable to him in this position. Stripped to the waist, the spread of his chest was available to her hands and she began touching him, marvelling at the strength beneath the hot skin, meshing her fingers in his light chest hair, nuzzling him with her nose and mouth, running her tongue over his flat nipples until he hissed. The sound surged through Maisy’s body, giving her a much needed boost in confidence.
His hands were actually shaking as he got busy at the buttons of his shirt.
‘Okay, Maisy?’ His eyes sought hers again as his fingers kept on moving down the shirt.
She swayed against him and their mouths met, mingled. Maisy got a little lost in the kissing until his lips left hers, and then she looked down and saw the deep valley between her breasts had come into view. Alexei’s stunning hot gaze did not shift from that moment on as he peeled the shirt open.
Alexei said something under his breath and then his big hands were splaying over them, catching up her nipples. He bent his head to take one into his mouth. His bristle-roughened chin abraded her sensitive skin as he suckled and fondled and nuzzled her, ignoring her efforts to touch him in kind until she was unbearably anxious to feel him inside her. She had not imagined in her wildest dreams she would feel this driven. It wasn’t in her nature, wasn’t in her—until now.
She put her hands on his waistband but his hands were already there, pushing her away.
‘Not yet, dushka,’ he rasped, lying her back flat on the bed and kissing down her belly to the scrap of white lace she was wearing.
She could feel her whole face suffusing in a hot blush of reaction. He edged off her knickers so slowly it felt like for ever. She was almost relieved when they were off. Then he went sliding to his knees on the floor, dragging her legs after him, so for a moment her knees hooked over his shoulders.
Maisy stopped breathing. It was an unbearably intimate position—especially when she looked down—and she wriggled, a wave of embarrassment passing over her. Then she felt him begin to blow air over the moist core of her, and she bit the fleshy part of her hand to keep from crying out.
