The Russian's Acquistion(47)

                Simple. Practical. Physical.

                He tried to hang on to the words as he backed her toward the divan, the need in him, once acknowledged and released, so intense his muscles began to shake. Every cell in his body ached for the pleasure she promised, but there was a primordial aspect to it that he refused to examine too closely. He wanted more from her than sexual accommodation. He wanted her to give herself to him because she wanted to, not for any orphaned children. He wanted her as ensnared by this wild passion as he was.

                He levered her slight body onto the cushions and lowered himself to cover her.

                Clair released a helpless whimper as Aleksy’s hot mouth touched the racing pulse in her throat. Her overwhelmed senses took in the painted ceiling and the music beyond the doors. Had he locked any of them? The back of the divan offered a bit of protection if someone walked in but not much.

                “Aleksy,” she choked, voice thick with the conflict of wanting him so instantly she was almost willing to risk discovery and holding back because she was upset. All her internal guards were shattered and in bad need of repair. She should wait until she had a better hold of herself, but he was strangely reassuring in the way he caged her beneath him without crushing her. The way he trailed his lips across her bare shoulder, pausing to drink in the scent of her skin.

                “I want everything you’ll give me.” The statement spurred a light-headed rush, one that nearly lifted her off the divan as he slid his finger under the diagonal edge of her bodice to reveal her breast.

                His mouth found the tip and her mind exploded. His urgent demand was as exciting as his mastery, causing a thrilling flood of heat into her extremities. She wove her fingers into his hair, making him lift his head. She was desperate to own his mouth but too shy to say it.

                Her body spoke for her, knee bending to bracket him into the space between her legs. He responded by stroking her ankle, her calf, her thigh. With their eyes locked in ever-intensifying connection, he climbed his hand beneath the skirt of her gown until he touched her so intimately she had to close her eyes.

                That only made her excruciatingly aware of the deliberate way he tantalized her. She lodged the back of her hand against her open mouth, muffling the cry of pleasure that escaped as he caressed and teased, making her long for more—

                “Oh!” He pressed into her wet core and she clenched, surprising herself with an unexpected orgasm that squeezed her eyes shut and rocked her entire body. Jagged moans refused to be suffocated.

                “I’m sorry! I’m so embarrassed,” she said into the paneled back of the divan, almost sobbing as he lifted her to strip her undies away.

                “Don’t be,” he commanded, his voice thick and fierce. He rose over her, his penetration happening at the same time he took her mouth in a kiss that captured her deep groan of relief.

                It was better than the first time. All sweetness as he filled her and paused, giving her a moment to accommodate his thick, hot girth. She grasped at him, certain there could be nothing better than this first deep thrust to alleviate the acute need.

                Then he moved and the pleasure storm swept through her.





                                      CHAPTER NINE

                ALEKSY SHIFTED, ROLLING onto his back, snapping Clair out of her deep sleep.

                Her naked back reacted to the loss of his heat like the cool, raw flesh under a bandage. She fought a foreign desire to turn and burrow into his warm strength.