Vow of Deception (Deception Trilogy #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,64
secret part of me he shouldn’t know so well.
My head bumps against one of the curved monitors as I come with a muffled cry. Unable to hold the dress, I let it fall, covering his head as I ride the wave. My legs give up the fight of staying upright and fall down, shaking and dangling from the edge of the desk.
Adrian emerges from underneath my dress, licking his lips. I stare away from him as I catch my breath. I don’t want to look at him, at the arrogance etched across his face, at the way he’s so smug about owning me. About how I’m his fucking Lenochka.
I’m not.
He grips my chin with both of his fingers and forces me to stare at him. “You didn’t count.”
“Nine. Ten.” My voice is just above a murmur as I look down at his hand. He lifts the glass of cognac to his lips and my heart shatters.
He’ll finish it and I’ll gain nothing from all of this.
“Do you want this drink?” he asks nonchalantly, as if he’s not seeing the eagerness on my face.
He’s playing a sick game, but no matter how much I want that drink, I won’t play into his hand.
“What’s the point? You’ll just say no.”
“You can have a taste.”
“Really?” I sound as distrustful as I feel.
“Come here.” He pulls me by the arm and I stumble to my feet until I’m standing on shaky legs in front of him. He turns me around and sits me on his lap so I’m facing the desk.
My back is glued to his solid wall of muscles and my legs are tucked between his. A bulge pokes at my sore behind, and it takes everything in me to remain still, to not squirm or wiggle against it.
“Hook your feet on the chair, Lenochka. I want to have access to your pussy while you drink.”
I do as I’m told and loop both of my feet around the chair, which naturally opens my legs farther apart. His free hand snakes underneath my dress until he cups me.
A shudder grips me and I try not to turn into a trembling leaf in his arms.
Adrian empties the glass, leaving only a sip behind. “Open your mouth.”
I don’t want to, I really don’t want to, because my mouth is the place where all those embarrassing noises will come from, but he’s not really stimulating me right now. It’s about alcohol.
I slowly open my mouth. But instead of offering me the remaining droplets of cognac as I expect him to, Adrian downs it, and before I can protest, he lets the glass drop to the table as the fingers of his other hand wrap around my throat and lift my jaw up. His lips meet mine and I recognize the stringent taste of alcohol. It’s slight, but it’s enough to go to my head.
Actually, no. It’s not the alcohol that goes to my head. It’s a different taste altogether.
Adrian’s.
He sucks on my tongue in an open-mouthed kiss, imploring, exploring, and robbing all of my common sense. It’s tender but harsh. Passionate but demanding. Just like the way he ate me out not even a minute ago.
Adrian’s never kissed me before, and yet, it feels like we’ve been kissing since we met. Like kissing has been the highlight of both of our existences. He’s so into it, like he’s attempting to lure something out of me by using my mouth. His vigor triggers mine and I can’t help the need to kiss him back, to try and give as much as he does. I’m so in tune with him that my body feels like it’s fusing with his.
I get drunk on him, not the alcohol.
He plunges two fingers inside me and I moan into his mouth. A groan slips out of him as if the sound is the best turn-on he’s ever heard. I want to pull away from his mouth, to muffle my voice like I usually do, but Adrian keeps me in place as he thrusts his fingers in and out of me. I gasp when he adds a third one, filling me like never before.
Jesus.
Adrian devours my lips and my tongue as he pounds his fingers in and out of me. I wiggle my ass against his thigh, desperate for the release that only he can bring. He becomes rock-hard, his cock growing in size with every second. A tinge of fear mixed with anticipation rolls through me.