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He's thick and hard, the head already glistening with precum. I lick my lips unconsciously, my mouth watering at the sight. Luka smirks, one hand fisting his impressive length while the other returns to my needy cunt.
"This what you want, Sophia?" he asks, dragging the swollen head of his cock through my soaked folds. "You want me to split you open on this dick, fuck this greedy little pussy 'til you scream?"
I nearly sob at the filthy words, the crude promise in his voice. Fisting my hands in his hair, I pull his mouth back to mine, kissing him with all the desperate hunger coursing through my veins.
"Please," I manage to gasp out between kisses. "Luka, I need you... need your cock so fucking bad..."
A rough sound tears from Luka's throat, and then he's slamming into me, burying himself to the hilt in one ruthless thrust. I cry out at the sudden intrusion, the stretch and burn of his thick length filling me completely.
"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Luka snarls, his forehead pressed against mine as he starts to move, his hips snapping against me in a relentless rhythm. "Gonna ruin this cunt, make it mine."
The dresser creaks and groans beneath us as Luka pounds into me, the rough edge of the wood digging into my ass. But I barely register the discomfort, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure of his body possessing mine.
I cling to his shoulders, my head thrown back, my legs locked around his pistoning hips. Each thrust drives him deeper, hitting that secret spot inside me that makes sparks dance behind my eyes.
The obscene slap of skin on skin, the wet squelch of his cock driving into my sopping sex, the guttural groans and filthy praise falling from Luka's lips... it's the most erotic symphony I've ever heard.
I can feel my orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core. My nails score angry red lines down Luka's back as I urge him on, desperate for release. "Don't stop," I pant. "So close... gonna come on your cock..."
Suddenly, the dresser gives an ominous creak, and Luka and I both freeze, our eyes flying to each other's faces. A beat passes, then two... and then we're both huffing out breathless laughter, our sweaty foreheads pressed together.
"Bed," Luka suggests, already lifting me into his arms and carrying me the few short steps to the mattress. "Before we break the fucking furniture."
Any other time, I might have rolled my eyes or made some snarky retort. But right now, with my body thrumming with need and Luka's skin hot against mine, all I can do is nod fervently and pull him down on top of me.
My last coherent thought before he's sinking back into my heat and sending me flying towards ecstasy is that this, right here, is exactly where I'm meant to be.
In Luka's arms, surrendering to the fire between us, consequences be damned.
Because no matter how wrong it might be, how many lines we're crossing... nothing has ever felt more right.
Chapter 36
Luka
THE PHONE crackles to life, and a familiar arrogant voice comes down the line. “Phakan,” Erik says from the other side of the call. I can tell he’s smirking.
“Don’t call me that, you know I’m not your boss!” I snort as I take in the scene of my room. It hasn’t changed much over the years. There’s the same old photo frame that sits on my mahogany desk, displaying the last happy memory I have with my family – my mother, my father, Yulia cradled in my mother’s arms, a tiny bundle of joy. It’s a bittersweet image, a ghost of the past that still lingers.
“How’s Vegas?” I lean back in my chair.
“Oh, you know, the usual shit – glitz, glam, and grime,” Erik replies in a tone that’s half joking, half sarcastic. “It’s practically oozing with my kind of charm.”
“You’ve got news?” My gaze shifts to the window, where the sun reflects off the tranquil surface of the lake. The serene sight helps ground me, a temporary balm for the anger that never really leaves me.
There’s a brief pause, and I can practically see the grin spreading across his face. “Da. You could say that.”
Interest piqued, I lean forward, fingers drumming on the sleek surface of the table. “And that would be?”
“Oh, I managed to get our slippery friend to see reason.” Erik’s voice oozes with pride. “You remember Giovanni ‘The Viper’ Ricci, don’t you?”
I chuckle as an image of the ostentatious gang leader springs to mind. Ricci, known for his love of venomous snakes and treacherous alliances, didn’t earn his nickname lightly.
“Ah, Ricci. Didn’t think he’d ever tire of his diamond-coated reptiles long enough to care about the bigger picture,” I retort, my words laced with humor.
There’s a pause, then Erik laughs. “Seems Aleks’s antics were more poisonous than any of Ricci’s beloved pets. So, The Royal Serpents are in. Aleks managed to piss off the wrong snake this time.”
My smirk widens, satisfaction spreading through me. “Good work, bratan. Let’s see how Aleks likes playing with serpents.”
