He asked against my lips, “Am I hurting you? Can I go faster?” His eyes searched mine as his movements faltered below.
Shocked, my eyes went wide. I sputtered, “Faster?”
His eyes lowered, and he shook his head. “It’s all right. Never mind.” His lips moved against mine again, kissing me again.
But I yanked his head back, stating, “If you can seriously go faster, then prove it.”
He froze. “I’m not hurting you?”
I shook my head.
He grinned, and I had never seen this smile before. It was a little devil and a little boyish. Pretty much, it was heart searing adorable. “Thank God. Brace your hands up on the headboard, my sweet.”
I blinked and nodded; still staring at his smiling lips, I did as he said. He bent to nibble on my nipples, making me groan and squirm, but he was looping his arms under my knees and pulling them up to my chest, so he had to pull back. He lifted up on his arms, and my legs spread on their own accord, wrapped over his bulging biceps. He murmured, “Press against the headboard, and tell me if I hurt you.”
“Okay,” I murmured breathlessly, pressing against the headboard just as he started hammering into me so damn fast. I arched, screaming as he shouted, throwing his head back, his muscles straining as he found a rhythm that had me shouting with each deep thrust.
“Fuck, Elizabeth. Shit,” he shouted, dropping his head and staring into my eyes, saying something I could not understand because his accent was getting to heavy.
“Can’t,” I sucked air, “understand you.”
“Beautiful,” he groaned. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
I moaned when he tilted his hips, hitting my clit with each thrust. “Beth. Call me Beth.”
“Beth, my sweet,” he ground against my clit, “come for me again.”
Freaked that I had given him permission to call me that, I shook my head. “Can’t.”
He pressed harder, and I jerked. “Yes, you can.” He bent, kissing my lips. “Come for me. I want to feel you come again.” Grinding against me, his mouth was heaven on mine.
I whimpered, my hips flexing even more against him. I shivered and ordered, “Harder.”
He grinned, and pressed his pelvis against me and rocked back and forth.
I stilled. Screamed. My hips went wild against him, and my hands pressed harder against the headboard. He sucked in a breath, as I felt myself trip…trip…and I fell over the edge, slamming my hips against his. My lids shut, and I felt him kiss me even as he gasped; then he was lifting up and repeatedly hammering into me. I moaned; my head long past gone into sensual overload as an orgasm from ecstasy took me. I could not think. Nothing but the pulses of passion and Daniil’s wild thrusts were all I knew. I was pretty sure I heard him shouting in Russian; I drifted in a place I had never been before.
His thrusts became chaotic, and suddenly, he slammed into me, sliding over my cervix and lodging his cock so damn deep. My eyes fluttered opened, blinking out the haze and coming down from my own paradise. I saw him staring down at me; his jaw clenched tightly as his eyelids drooped, and he shuddered, jerking against me hard, lodging even farther into me, his cock beginning to pulse inside me.
He groaned low, his body shaking, and instinctively, I caught him when he started to drop on top of me. His orgasm racked his body, and I felt him come for what felt like forever, my core extremely sensitive after my third orgasm, so I felt every single pulse, making my own body jerk. His hands crept under my ass, and he held us tightly connected until he sucked in a breath, his taunt body going sated and limp over me. I was good with that since mine had done the same.
The air conditioner in my room kicked on, and since our bodies were covered with a light sprinkle of sweat, I felt instant relief from the heat. As I sucked air, our chests heaved against one another’s. My hands were on his back from catching and holding him through his orgasm, and I left them there as he moved one of his hands up to the small of my back, holding me. I was not positive how long we lay there; his large body sprawled over mine, covering me, and oddly, I did not mind the shallow breathing.
We both dozed off, because when there was pounding on my door, we both jerked at the sound. Daniil’s head snapped up; he blinked down at me sleepily. A fucking gun was in his hand he must have hidden in his shorts that lay next to us, along with his wallet and an empty condom wrapper.
That woke me up fast, and I kept my gaze off it as the pounding sounded again. Since no one was shouting ‘fire’, I asked in irritation, “You brought a damn gun into bed with us?”
His head had darted in the direction of the door that could not be seen from where we lay. “You know who I am. I always have one with me.” He paused. “Get used to it.” A blatant command.
Instant. “No. It’s not something a woman just gets used to. And don’t think that because we had good sex you can order me around.”
I saw his eyes narrow, and still not looking at me, he asked coolly, “Good sex?”
I pointed against the nose that was facing away from me. “Fine. Fantastic, mind-fucking-blowing sex. But that doesn’t give you the right to order me around.”
His eyes were still narrowed, and he opened his mouth, but both of us stilled when we heard Zane shout from out in the hallway, “Open the fucking door!” More pounding. “Unless you want me to come in!”
“We better get that,” I grumbled, miffed at Daniil and his gun command.
“You aren’t going anywhere naked,” Daniil ordered bluntly, pulling back, and very gently sliding out of me.
I froze, still very sensitive, but managed to demand, “Quit ordering me around!”
He growled, glaring, but quickly removed the condom and stated gruffly, “We’re going exclusive. I don’t want anyone seeing you naked but me. Do you understand now?”
I blinked, sitting up slowly and carefully since – oh, yeah baby – I was sore. “You’re supposed to ask if I want that. Not just tell me.”
He paused, getting off the bed, even as Zane started shouting again outside. He was not facing me, but when he spoke, it sounded like he was trying for patience and speaking through clenched teeth. “Do you want to be exclusive, Beth?” Then he muttered under his breath, “They normally fucking beg me for it.”
“I heard that,” I stated dryly, but really, I was more than a little shocked because when he used my nickname, it reminded me that I had actually given him permission to do so. I cleared my throat, thinking. I had given him permission, which meant something. He would be more than enough for me. I also was not positive after this experience that I would want to share him either while we did this. “Is this just sex?” I had to know.