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A Virgin for His Prize(38)

By:Lucy Monroe


“We will see, won’t we?”

Yes, they would. But not today. Today, they would make love his way and she would give him the gift of her innocence. She didn’t care if that was an old-fashioned way to look at it, she suspected he saw it the same way.

He kissed her then, whether it was to stop the conversation, or simply because that was the next step in her very willing seduction, she didn’t know. What she did know was that it short-circuited her brain, which was already overloaded with pleasure.

His mouth possessed hers with the power of any tsar laying claim to his territory. Thrillingly. Absolutely. And with unmistakable intent.

Max’s caresses became more zealous, taking on a feverish edge and increasing the delight to her senses when she would have said the latter was impossible. But something deep inside her basked in the tangible proof of the knowledge he wanted to make her his own.

She wasn’t sure when her hands moved from above her head so she could wrap her arms around him, doing a little claiming of her own. Instead of stopping, as he might have done a year ago, Max’s touches turned even more passionate and less controlled.

Part of her reveled in that, but the rest of her just enjoyed the next level of sexual delight it inspired.

Romi’s hands lost purchase on Max as he moved to follow the touch of his hands with that of his mouth. Masculine lips, talented tongue and careful teeth teased already sensitive flesh until she was whimpering with need.

And not in the least embarrassed by that fact.

He nuzzled into the apex of her thighs, making a fully masculine sound of satisfaction. Then he parted her with his fingers before flicking his tongue against her clitoris and she tried to come up off the bed.

Her cry echoed around them as he continued to kiss her in the most intimate way possible. His fingers slipped inside her, the only flesh besides her doctor’s that had ever been inside Romi’s body.

There was no impediment to his deep finger thrusting. There wouldn’t be after years in gymnastics.

The only area she and Maddie had diverged. Maddie had played soccer and softball. Romi had competed in gymnastics until her height decreed she would be able to take those aspirations no further.

Along the way, her inner barrier had stretched and finally broken, she was sure.

All thoughts of the whys and wherefores exploded in a cataclysm of bliss that had her shaking and screaming.

He gentled her through the climax and took her beyond to another layer of pleasure on the cusp of orgasm. Again.

Only then did he move to settle between her thighs, his swollen member pressing against the entrance to her body.

His expression was every bit as possessive as his position. “This is mine, dorogaya. Your innocence will never belong to another.”

She wouldn’t, either, in any way, she was sure of it. But there was no point in telling him. He was still laboring under the mistaken impression that if they married, it would be a temporary if years-long condition.

She knew better. Right then, she knew to the very depths of her soul and heart that this man would always be hers and vice versa. He might never let himself love her and that would inevitably bring pain with it.

But their souls were already entwined.

He didn’t ask if she was ready. He didn’t say anything at all. He just looked down at her with eyes that claimed, demanded and pleaded all at the same time.

The demand excited her in a way others might not understand, but the pleading she was sure he had no knowledge of. That decided her beyond a shadow of any possible doubt that the time had come to join their bodies.

“Please,” she said to and for Max.

He nodded and began pushing inside, the wide girth of his shaft stretching her as she had never been stretched before. It felt so right, the link between their souls causing her body to accommodate his, his big frame surrounding her to make that connection even more intimate and perfect.

Romi didn’t realize how long it had been since she felt truly safe until the moment when any sense of being alone and having to protect herself and those around her was gone completely.

Maxwell wasn’t a tsar. He was her own personal Cossack. Bloodthirsty in his face to the world, but a wall between her and anything that might hurt her.

Even his own threats.

Where that certainty came from, she again did not know, but her inner conviction was absolute.

He made love to her with care, but also with a passion that grew increasingly unbridled until they strained together in an act millions of others engaged in every day, but still felt unique to them.

Special.

No one else would ever affect her as he did.

And no other woman would draw this lack of control, this unplanned, unmeasured movement and reaction from Maxwell Black.

Her pleasure built in proportion to the emotional intimacy she felt despite the lack of love words between them. She wasn’t ready to acknowledge that feeling if it did reside in her heart. However, the invisible threads this intimate act was building between them went deeper than romance.