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He slipped two of his fingers inside her, hooking them to press against her G-spot while he worked her clit.
“Oh my god…” She moved her hips with his rhythm, sinking onto his mouth and fingers when he plunged deeper, grinding her soaking pussy against his face.
He loved her like this, his ice queen raw and needy and ready to come.
His own desire was building to a fever pitch, the sound of her mounting need making him even more desperate to bury himself inside her, to feel her channel close around him as she came.
He added a third finger to her pussy and licked faster, felt her reach for her orgasm, her knees bent and coming up onto the bed so she could use her feet as leverage to work with him.
She came apart all at once, crying out into the room as she shuddered against his mouth, her pussy clamping down on his fingers.
He kept up the motion of his tongue and fingers, wanting to wrench every last tremor from her body, stopping only when she was limp and gasping on the bed.
He left kisses on her inner thighs, then stood before her and discarded his pants and underwear.
Her eyes raked lustily over his body, lingering on his cock, jutting between his legs.
She stretched out a hand. “Come fuck me, husband. I want you inside me.”
38
He stretched out beside her, bracing her hips as he rolled under her, making sure she was stable as she got into position straddling his hips.
His gentleness was uncharacteristic, and Kira didn’t know if it was because of the baby or because of their conversation on the terrace.
Maybe both, but she didn’t mind. She’d sensed the falling away of something between them, some vestige of their original arrangement that had made Lyon feel he had a role to play in their marriage other than the man she loved.
His cock was nestled in the slippery folds between her legs, bumping against her clit just enough to bring her hunger for him roaring back to life.
He grabbed onto her hips, and she lifted herself up on her knees and positioned him at her entrance, then sank slowly onto him with a sigh.
He groaned when he was finally buried inside her, and she bent over him to stroke his face with her hands while she looked into his eyes.
The silence between them felt weighted, but this time not with something unsaid. This time the silence was an embrace of love, of trust. It was like sinking into warm water, letting it close gently over her head.
He looked up at her with naked adoration. “I love you.”
She hadn’t doubted that he loved her, not since the first time he’d said it, but this was the first time he’d ever said it in bed, their bodies joined.
“I love you too, Lyonya Antonov.”
Tonight, she didn’t want him to be the Lion. She just wanted him to be her husband.
It was more than enough.
He thrust into her, excruciatingly slow, looking at her the whole time. She gasped, taking all of him, letting him fill her.
She moved her hips to grind on him, letting the friction work her clit before he lifted her hips to move out of her. The rhythm was slow and sensual, different than their usual sexual frenzy, when they both greedily sought release.
She straightened, getting a better angle to work her own pleasure, and he sat up with her to palm her breasts before taking one of her nipples in his mouth.
They were both sitting now, their baby between them, the angle helping him to sink even deeper inside her while he sucked and licked the taut bud of her nipple.
The sensation was almost too much: the push of his cock through her channel, the friction on her clit, his arms around her waist while he lapped at her nipple. It all worked together like a strong breeze on a building fire, and she felt her orgasm build quickly at her center, seeping outward into the rest of her body.
He must have felt it because he lifted his head from her breast and gripped her hips, helping her to rock on his cock while he thrust up into her, faster now, their slow, sensuallovemaking turning more urgent now that they were both so close to release.
“You feel so good, Kira,” he said, pulling her face toward his. “So warm and tight.”
