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“You have no idea.” If she didn’t start to take off her damn clothes now, I was going to rip them off.
Finally, Elia’s hand drifted down to the hem of her tank top and she pulled it off to reveal her breasts, heavier from pregnancy. In the dim light, I marveled at the pink areolas, the nipples stiff from the cool air, and felt my mouth water at the sight.
Elia teased me with the waistband of her shorts, finally pushing them down over her ass and showing off the small slip of lace that covered her pussy before kicking them away. “Is this what you want to see?” she asked, her voice sultry.
I nodded. “Yes.” I wanted her hands on me, touching me, reminding me that she wanted me.
She approached the bed and I moved in time with her, untucking my dress shirt from my pants as I stood. I longed to touch her, but I didn’t.
Because if I did, this teasing would be over before it truly started.
Her fingers worked on the buttons of my shirt and before I realized it, she was pushing the material off my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Her breath hung hot over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. When she reached for my belt, I stopped her, my jaw clenching.
“No,” I said tightly, the blood rushing to my lower half. “Touch me first.”
Elia looked up and I was lost to her eyes. For a moment, I thought she might turn away or refuse to comply with my demands. But the moment passed, and her pink-tipped fingers drifted over my skin. Her nails scraped lightly over my shoulders in tiny circles before making their way down my arms. Each touch was like a lick of fire that grew hotter by the second, threatening to consume me, and making it far too easy to forget all the unresolved questions between us.
When she reached my chest, she splayed her hand over my heart and I drew in a sharp breath when I saw the wedding ring on her finger in the low light of the room.
“You are mine,” I growled, reaching down to grasp her hand. “Forever.” I owned her. She carried my name and my child.
My mark was all over Elia Korolev.
Instead of agreeing, she pried my grip from her hand. “We will see about that,” she said quietly, before reaching out to kiss my pec. “Do you want me to be owned by you?”
I threaded my hand in her hair and tugged gently until she was looking up at me. “You know I do.” But I wanted to hear it out of her mouth. I needed to hear it out of her mouth.
Elia’s lips pursed as if in thought, but she remained silent, her hand resting on my belt buckle. Fine. We would continue the tug and pull of her words, but both of us knew how this was going to end.
Finally, her fingers resumed their motions and made quick work of my pants, shoving them over my hips to release my length before her. A pearly drop of precum decorated the tip. Even in this dim light, I could see her eyes widen in anticipation of what was coming.
“Get on the bed,” I told her, fighting the urge to bury myself inside her. “And spread your legs.”
Elia did as I asked. Her body was quivering in excitement. She enjoyed this as much as I did.
I watched as she lay on her back, splayed her legs apart, and pulled her knees up to give me a good view of her wet center.
“Tell me you want me to touch you.” I slid my hand up to her knee, drawing a soft moan from her lips. The scent of her arousal filled the air. Leaning down, I pressed my lips on the inside of her milky thigh, but no further. She closed her eyes and breathed, moaning.
I waited for her words, my fingers kneading her soft skin insistently. “Tell me, Elia.”
Her eyes fluttered open, need shimmering in them. “Aleksey, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please touch me.”
“Good girl,” I murmured, my hand finally moving past the soft expanse of her thigh to cup her wet mound. She gasped and arched into my touch, but I held myself back. “Beg me.”
“Oh God,” she breathed, panting lightly.
I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Beg me,” I repeated.
“Touch me,” she begged, her hand pushing at my shoulder. “Touch me, please.”
I dipped a single finger slowly inside her. She was drenched.
“Like this?”
