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“Kroshka, what are you doing?”
She bites down, gently nibbling my skin. Her small hands venture to my back, untucking my shirt and pulling it up. “Take it off,” she says.
“You’re demanding things of me that I can’t resist.”
“Take it off,” she demands again.
Quickly taking off my shirt, I let it fall to the ground while I pull her sweatpants down from her waist. Before I can help her with her shirt, she pulls it off in one swift motion. I lift her off the ground and set her down on the counter. Wrapping her hair around my wrist, I pull her head back and trail my tongue down her chest.
“One question,” I say roughly. “You want it?”
Her eyes widen, dark lashes fluttering, and her cheeks quickly turn pink. She nods, pressing her lips together.
Good.
Grabbing onto her, I turn her waist so she’s facing the sink and kneel to the floor. Her pussy is dripping for me. I love that I hardly have to touch her and she’s already craving me just as much as I crave her. My hands hold onto her hips, and I pull her down onto my face. She’s hesitant, but she allows me to guide her body.
The moment my tongue touches her clit I feel her legs threatening to give out on her. I could lick her for hours on end and never tire of her taste. It’s addicting.
Sheis addicting.
She struggles to keep herself up, but I kind of want her arms to give out. “I can’t,” she moans.
“You can.”
She knows she can. Her body wants to crumble, and it’s the sexiest thing I know.
A groan escapes my throat when I feel her pussy throbbing on my tongue.
“Fuck,” she whimpers.
Standing up slowly, I lick her off my lips and unzip my pants. “Grab onto the counter,” I demand.
She does as I say and pushes her ass closer to me impatiently.
“Are you still sore?” I ask.
She nods. “My body will work it out.”
I line myself against her and push in slowly. It takes all of me to control my pace with her. I want to fuck her as if I’ll never see her again. The way her pussy clings to me makes me want to come instantly.
“Look at yourself,” I mumble while I push in and out of her.
Lifting her head up, she looks at herself in the mirror.
“You’re everything,” I say. I wrap my hand around her neck and bring her lips to mine.
“Harder, Mikhail.”
“So fucking demanding.”
Doing what she wants, I slam into her quickly. I bring my lips to her back, holding in the urge to kiss every part of her body. I want to claim her as mine in every possible way. I’ve never felt so infatuated with a person before—it takes over every thought I have. I don’t even remember why the fuck I’m always mad at her.
A loud pounding on the door startles her, and her mouth drops open.
“I need to pee, Mikhail!” Dimitri’s voice floods the room. There are ten other bathrooms in this fucking house—why does he need this one?
“Focus,” I say, turning Sloane’s face back to the mirror. “You’re in here with me.”
