Danil’s Mate(22)

Dora didn’t particularly believe in magic. Even though she’d done an article on Wiccans a few years ago and seen some pretty crazy stuff. But she’d never seen anything that made her believe that spells existed. Except for this. It was almost as if the second Danil was speaking the words, he was somehow making them true. Tilting her world, changing her existence with little more than breath from his throat.

Dora scrambled on the edge of her tipping earth. She had to keep her footing. She couldn’t tumble.

“I can’t,” she whispered to herself more than anything else.

But Danil must have taken it personally because she was suddenly up in the air as he stood up with her. He turned and laid her out on the bed. He ripped his shirt over his head and then crawled over her, caging her in, his face only inches from hers.

“You can. You will,” he said. He wasn’t growling now. His voice was low and deep and rumbling with everything but anger. There was certainty there. Need. And that accent. Jesuslordholyposeidon. Dora squeezed her thighs together as he kept talking. “I don’t hurt you, Pandora. I am safe for you. I keep you safe.”

His words were less precise as his passion rose and Dora could understand the feeling. She hadn’t been able to string together a linear thought since he’d put his hands on her.

“Okay,” was all she could manage through the breath she was trying to desperately hold. “Okay.”

He reared back off her then. He stood before the bed, whipping his belt out of the loops with a snap. His eyes were consuming her. Eating her whole like a forest fire. “So quiet, samotna ptuška. Always so quiet.”

He snapped the belt in his hands and gave her a wicked smile before tossing it away. Next, his pants were gone and he was crawling back over her, all amusement gone from his eyes. He was focused only on her. Dora got the feeling that a bomb could go off and he wouldn’t look away from her.

Reaching forward, he slid her underwear down her legs and tossed them away with a look on his face like they’d personally offended him just by existing.

“Naked,” he growled. “Like it is meant.”

He surveyed her head to toe and Dora had never felt prouder of her body than she did in that moment. His mouth was watering just looking at her.

“Your body loses my mind,” he said, mixing up his words and obviously not even caring. “But still so quiet.”

He dropped his mouth to her breast and tugged. Hard. Rudely, almost. Dora’s back arched clear off the bed as she gave a gasping moan. She bit her lip against the sound but Danil grinned against her breast, rolling her nipple in his teeth.

“Da, ptuška,” he said, tugging again. “Give that moan to me.”

He rolled them over so that she was straddling him. He guided her other breast into his mouth and tugged again.

“It is mine.”

Dora couldn’t help but moan again as she wiggled against him. Her naked pussy spread against his stomach. She was getting wetter by the second. So wet that she knew it must be dripping onto him but she couldn’t find it in her to care. He was driving her crazy. Taking her out of her body and onto another plane.

Dora shook her head to focus her eyes. She refused to get lost here. She needed to be as present in this moment as he was. Her gaze landed on Danil’s chest as she sat herself back up. Holy mother pectorals. She lightly grazed her hand through his smattering of chest hair and over the rises and falls of his muscles. The man was built like a tank. Like a football player.

She was reaching forward, to explore more of him, but he was reaching behind her, shoving his underwear down. Dora felt the hard, hot press of his erection against her ass as it rose up. A flood of wetness poured out of her.

Danil gave a feral smile and fished in the drawer beside them. He ripped a condom open with his teeth and sheathed himself behind her. “Later I make love to you. Right now, I show you home.”

With that, he lifted her by her hips, one of his thumbs coming down and swiping through her pussy, parting her lips and spreading her wetness all around. She felt the head of his cock at her opening and she tried to sink down on it. But he held her still. Just above him. The head of his cock traced through her silkiness making both of them grit their teeth.

“Say it,” he growled.

“What?” Dora felt as if they were trying to speak to one another on the bottom of the ocean; words and light and sounds were bending. Her body was on fire.

“Tell me you live here now.”

She looked down at him. How could she say that? She wasn’t a liar and she’d never been more confused in her life. But the man whose hands gripped her hips like a vice stared at her with so much hypnotic intensity that she heard herself speak.