The Russian Bodyguard: A Dark Mafia Romance (Krasnov Brothers Book 3)
Page 19
He groaned when I bypassed his dick to lather his thighs and his calves and even his feet, my face at level with the jutting length of him.
Only then did I rise up again and take him in both soapy hands, slickly twisting up and down the whole shaft and burnishing over the reddish-purple dome.
His dark gray gaze never left my wet slick breasts that jiggled every time I moved beneath the strong spray.
He grunted and twitched, and we were all hot and lathered up in more ways than one when I stepped into him. His arms came rushing out and around me, grinding me against his blatant tumescence.
I didn’t bother with his hair—he was too tall to reach.
He didn’t bother with mine—we were too far gone to wait.
“Out. Now,” he commanded, and I complied.
The shower slammed off.
We toweled each other cursorily.
He threw both lengths of thick terrycloth behind him and pointed to the door with his chest gusting in and out.
I teased breathily, “I’m still wet.”
“You are about to get wetter.”
Gahhh.
Instead of waiting for me to obey, Maksim simply tossed me up over his shoulder. He carried me into the room and threw me onto the mattress. Neither of us paid any attention to the pillows or the covers or who cared what else.
“We made it to the bed.” His voice was thick as he looked down at me.
“I did, anyway.” Stretching languorously beneath his gaze, I drowned in his lusty perusal.
Finally, he prowled onto the bed, desire shading his silvery eyes.
“But I thought you were going to make me plead for you to fuck me?” I purposefully provoked him because I was an expert at that.
As he snaked between my thighs, his huge shoulders took up all the space. His looming presence invaded my mind, my body, my heart.
His gaze never left mine as his heat radiated closer and closer to my core.
He didn’t say a single word.
I’d been with boys. This was a man. Powerful. Potent. Poised to strike with raw untamed passion.
My breath caught in my chest.
I had dangerously underestimated everything about Maksim, and now I’d pay for that mistake in the most delectable way.
His eyes seethed. His lips curled in a wicked lustful sneer. His sinews contracted and released.
Closer. Closer.
All man.
My husband.
He kissed the insides of both my thighs where my juice had tracked then flipped me suddenly to my belly.
My voice surged out in a surprised moan, and I kept my legs splayed even while I glanced over my shoulder.
Maksim leaned back on his knees, mounding the flesh of my ass in his palms. His gaze burned directly into the spot I’d had tattooed several years ago without his knowledge.
The delicate tat of stars in various sizes and bright colors intertwined with black thorny vines and sat right where the crest of my ass dipped to the hollow of my spine on the left side.
His eyes never straying from that precise spot, he moved to trace the ink. My pussy swelled, all but calling him to sink inside of me.
Next, he cruised up my body, and I felt his weight, his heat, his possessiveness enveloping me.
“I have been meaning to ask you. What man did this to you?”
“You’re not the only one allowed to get inked.”
His low growl made shivers erupt on my flesh.
He lifted back off of me. “Next time you want to get marked, I’ll do it.”
He licked across the tat, sordidly close to the crease of my bottom.
I should’ve realized with the appearance of the autoclave, he also did ink.
I should have realized he wouldn’t appreciate someone else seeing the top of my ass.
His voice emerging even more harshly, he squeezed my buttocks in his rough hands. “No one touches you but me.”
Then he spanked me.
On both sides.
My head dropped down. My ass pushed up.
He smacked me again and again then bit me right on the apple of the inked cheek. “And it will be my brand on your body.”
“Yes!” I agreed mindlessly.
“Now beg me to fuck you, Sashenka.” Pulling my hips up from the bed, Maksim got so close his cock pressed between the cheeks of my ass and the coarse hair on his thighs tickled the backs of mine.
Heady desire drove need straight to my pussy, and my breasts dangled down while my nipples brushed against the bedding. “Maksim, don’t make me wait any longer.”
“Try harder, Sashenka.” His brusque tone matched the hard slaps of his thick dick against my jiggly ass.
“God. Fuck me!” My words quivered through the air. “Please. Take me. Make me yours!”
I heard his hiss of breath.
“I know you’re on birth control, so we won’t be using a condom.”
Of course he knew. He’d had access to almost every facet of my life.
Arrogant bastard, and I thought it was hot.
“And I might want to get you pregnant soon anyway so all men know you are taken.”
Oh lord yes.
But I stopped him when that engorged tip brushed heatedly along my slit. “Wait!”
Heat pounded off of him, and I felt the dangerous tension as he held himself at bay.
“What is it?” he asked.
Turning my head, I looked back at him. “I want to do this normal.” A flush rose to my cheeks. “I want to see your face this first time.”
A lust-filled snarl rumbled from his chest. “I want that too.”
Spinning me over, he poised to lunge inside, a giant male teeming with tats and muscles, his large organ prepared to divide me, spear into me, destroy me.
And he waited, the hyper tension stretched between us so that I arched up and my breasts rubbed against his solid chest, and the sensation made my breath hitch.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
Then his groin dipped forward, and he entered me. He took my body to the brink with one rough stroke, driving deeper than I ever thought possible.
Arcane words tumbled from my lips, the sensation unfathomable. His raw unwrapped cock. Slick hot skin on skin. His thick weapon stretching my soft femininity.
The piercing! His cock plowing inside.
His voice at my ear . . . “And I better be the only man who’s barebacked you.”
I wound my legs around his hips as he held himself so very deep inside of me that I felt him in places that had never been touched before. My hands smoothed up the tensed muscles of his arms, and I melted.
He ground that large cock inside of me, making stars swirl behind my eyelids.
“I swear. You’re the first like this, Maksim.”
He dipped his head, dragging a puffed-up nipple into his mouth as I cried out.
“You’re the first man I’ve ever felt this way with.”
He went animal on me at that last confession.
His hips worked like pistons. He rode me hard and fast, dragging wail after wail from my throat. He bit both my nipples and my neck then stroked his tongue between my more than welcoming lips.
Wrapping my legs lower, I let the soles of my feet trail down the back of his crisply-haired thighs. My fingers dug into the great hollow of his spine then spread out over all those flexing sinews that went on and on into infinity.
He fucked me with unrelenting power, grunting and wild as great bellows of breath steamed from him.
It had been such a long build up to this . . . this mating. Hours. Days. Years.
I strained to take every single solid inch of him, crying out each time his balls beat against my ass and his groin slammed into my mound with a wet splash.
Every time Maksim thrust in, his PA rolled over a spot that made my temperature rocket.
I gasped, aching. I squeezed around him, writhing. Those starbursts of color expanded behind my eyelids.
�
��Tell me how good my cock feels.” He was heavy and hard and demanding.
“You’re piercing . . .”
“Just that?” With a slow roll of his pelvis, his thick cock made circles inside of my tight grasping flesh.
“Ohhh!” I gasped out. “All of you. Oh fuck.”
Holding me closer, he growled in my ear, “Blyad. You’re going to make me come before I want to.”
Lifting up, his gaze suddenly became as penetrating and piercing as his cock.
Striving to brace himself on his fists, he rammed faster from root to tip.
He grew thicker inside of me. He fucked harder into me.
He gripped my tits and mashed them together before nailing me right to the bed with several massive pussy-drilling strokes.
And I lost it.
Lost all grounding.
Lost all feeling but the intensity, the wildness, the primacy of Maksim.
A scream rippled from my throat, and I heard him roar too. Power-lunges accompanied the hot lashes of his seed blasting inside of me as I convulsed and he kicked off.
I watched him in the last few moments, his rugged features beautifully contorted as he strained to give me every last copious drop of cum.
I shouldn’t have thought so little of Maksim. He fucked like a fury, leaving me wet and whimpering.
He kissed like a devil, his tongue a sensual thing.
He filled me to completion and would not move from on top of me.
He anchored me. Angered me. Made me alive.
Replete, I stretched beneath him. “Where are you gonna put your first tat then?”
Rolling off of me, he turned us both so we lay face to face.
Irises like softest charcoal, he sucked one of my nipples between his lips before releasing the nub. “Maybe I’ll start with piercing you, Sashenka.”
16
Maksim
YES, ONE DAY SOON, Sasha would wear more of my marks, not just the ruby ring and the wedding band.
Her plump lips parted at my devious threat, and I had no choice but to kiss her. My lips covered hers, my tongue sweeping inside. As I mastered her with my mouth like I had with my cock, she clung to me tightly.
She would know who owned her now. And it certainly wasn’t the pizda who’d inked her in the first place. Seeing her naked and face down on our bed, I’d been unable to control the possessive streak that shot through me.
Da. The thought of piercing her was enticing. Right through her puffy, pert nipples so I could run chains from her luscious breasts and fuck her like the beast she made me.
It was clear now Sasha was no spoiled little girl, unless I counted the fact that I’d spoiled her with my big, pierced cock. After the way she’d wrapped herself around me, reacting to each and every thrust, she was all woman.
My woman.
My woman who’d said she wanted to see my face the first time I entered her. Blyad. A moment I’d remember forever.
And the sex was off the fucking charts.
To be bare inside a woman, bare inside this specific woman, turned up the heat ten thousand degrees. She’d been soft as velvet, tight and wet.
Breaking our long twisting kiss, I desired her pussy on my mouth again, so I did just that. Roaming between her legs as she laughed in that sweet sultry tone, I ate her very slowly.
Her laughter soon stopped, her voice growing softer and breathier as I devoured her cunt with slow licks and long drags of my tongue.
Sasha came with a howling scream then passed out almost immediately after, the slumber of total satiation overtaking her.
I chuckled before crashing beside her. I dragged a blanket to our hips, squashed a pillow behind my head, and drew her to my shoulder. I tucked her upper leg over my thigh, hit the light switch, and cruised into sleep with her.
I woke sometime later because I was very aware someone watched me.
Sasha.
It was the first time she’d caught me unawares in this way. I flexed all over, groaning tightly, eyes opening to see her staring intently at my cock that already stiffened.
“See something you want?” I asked in a husky voice.
Her diamond-like eyes flew to mine, a becoming blush painting her cheeks. “I didn’t know you could sleep so heavily.”
“Hmm. Maybe you wore me out.”
Her slim eyebrows arched. “Doesn’t look like it.”
A deep chuckle launched up from my belly. Then my belly rumbled just as loudly.
“Maksim! When was the last time you ate?” she scolded.
“I don’t know. What time is it?” I rubbed across my stomach then scratched the trail of hair there.
Sasha watched every lazy movement before whispering absentmindedly, “Um . . . nine o’clock. At night.”
“Blyad. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
“After last night, I’d say you deserved the rest.”
Perhaps. But it was unlike me.
Then it struck me. We’d only wed yesterday yet it felt far longer, and not in a bad way at all.
She was right. Much had happened.
Oleg. Mine and Sasha’s fights. Saoirse’s birth . . .
The teasing. The well-deserved spanking. Kisses and blowjobs and finally fucking.
“Let me feed you,” she said.
I sat up. “No. I should—”
She cut off my words, slapping her hands onto my chest and pushing me back down.
I only let her because her irises sparkled with determination.
“I want to do this for you. As your woman.”
Oh, fuck. If that didn’t get my cock even more ready for action . . .
I knew what she was doing, and I goddamn liked it. She was taking care of me as no female ever had.
It wasn’t out of pity. Or because of gratitude. It was my due because of the orgasms I’d reaped upon her body and the rough, raw fuck I’d thrown into her.
Hopping off the bed, she began rummaging for something to put on.
“Sasha, wear one of my shirts.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
My growl of approval was louder than my hungry stomach.
After sliding into one of my dress shirts from the closet, which she barely buttoned, she swished away. “Are you going to come keep me company?”
Fucking right I was.
I cleaned up in the bathroom, pulled on some sweatpants, and joined her.
I didn’t interfere, instead I sat at the bar, watching.
Despite her being all about women’s rights when she didn’t get her way one hundred percent of the time, she made a perfectly mouthwatering picture in the kitchen. Especially with my shirt only serving to highlight her more than generous curves and the deep valley between her breasts.
At one point, she murmured, “I can feel your eyes all over me.”
“And you’ll be feeling me all over you again soon.”
A spoon clattered to the countertop, and I chuckled.
It was good to know I could make the woman nervous sometimes.
“You know”—she said when she started placing steaming platters heaped with food on the island—“we really do need a proper table in here.”
“Pick one out and purchase it.” I shrugged. “You have excellent taste.”
She flushed, and I thought it was in pleasure.
Then she poured vodka for me, champagne for her, and perched on a stool beside me.
In a short time, she’d created a feast of smoky and savory soup, a cheese plate with fresh bread, and a Russian potato salad that must’ve been one of Baba’s special recipes. My stomach thundered so loudly while she served me that she started giggling.
I waited for her to start first before tucking in. My god, I was ravenous, almost as hungry for the food as I was for her.
I murmured approval between each mouthful, making sure to mind the table manners Baba had taught me so long ago.
After a mouthful of the soup made with cured meats, I praised, “This is feast, Sashenka. Very g
ood.”
“Thank you.” She ate with appetite as well, making me smile.
I need not worry about her losing her figure by eating little nibbles of what amounted to no more than rabbit food.
“What are you smiling at?” she asked.
I shrugged. “You are a very good cook.”
From beneath lowered lids and thick coal-dark lashes, she glanced up at me. “I like to watch you eat, Maksim.”
Blood roared like jet fuel to my cock, and I could hardly wait to get my hands on her again.
Cleaning up turned out to be a long-drawn out tease. I could’ve shoved dishes onto the floor and laid her out on the kitchen island, but after the care she’d taken with the meal, I decided to be patient.
Although patience was about to make my cock rip right through my sweats.
Again, she wouldn’t let me help. She wanted to take care of me, she said.
One way she could take care of me would be to get on her knees so I could use her mouth again.
Finally, after bending over countless times to flash me her heavenly ass during the cleanup, she dried off her hands. She snapped out the dishtowel then carefully draped it over a rack.
She took her time sauntering around to my side of the bar and, when I made a move to lunge at her, she dragged her fingertips down the side of my ribs where my muscles fanned out.
“Don’t move,” she whispered in a smoldering tone.
My dick pulsed out a drop of precum, and the shaft rode down the inside of my sweatpants.
I stayed seated when she roamed behind me, and my head rolled on my neck as she weaved some sort of spell over me.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Maksim.”
“What’s that?” My voice returned to that hoarse, gruff tone.
“If you want to ink me so much, why don’t you tell me what all your tats are for?”
That wasn’t something I’d ever intended to do.
After swallowing roughly, I said, “Many are for you.”
“Me?”
I sensed the surprise in her voice though I couldn’t see her face.
“The kills for you,” I admitted.
Again, she was trespassing into off-limits territory and, once we crossed these lines, it’d be fucking impossible to go back to what we were before: me the bodyguard, her the Bratva princess.