The Player (The Game Maker #3) - Kresley Cole Page 0,72
muscles of his ass flexing with each stroke. I wriggled my hips, trying to catch him, to tempt him. Tension gathered . . .
“Does your hungry little pussy ache for this?” He began feeding his length inside—
“Oh, my God, YES!” I screamed, coming before he was halfway in. “Dmitri!” The fullness sent me over the brink.
“Uhn! Feel you!” He shoved home, ripping another scream from me. And again. “You would’ve stolen my cum, just like that.”
I writhed in my bonds as my orgasm consumed me, numbing my mind. . . .
Once I finally fell limp, he bit out, “More?” His muscles quaked against me. How badly he must need to come!
“Yes!”
“I will always give you more.” He drew back his hips and gripped me around the waist. Then he widened his stance. He was readying.
I fidgeted in my bindings. He looked like he was about to ravage me. And there was nothing I could do but take it. “Um, Dmitri—”
He yanked me back along his cock while his body rammed forward. He yelled; I moaned from the impact.
His position, my position . . . I felt like a sexual plaything. Maybe I was a submissive, because the idea put me right back on the brink.
“Your body needs to be fucked by mine. Taken.” He eased out to give me another teeth-clattering thrust. And another. Soon he was pounding me. His breaths were grunts; my cry scaled higher.
I screamed his name as I came again.
“Vika! Your sweet pussy!” He never slowed, his skin lathered with sweat. “You’re milking my cock!” He grew even thicker inside me. “Can’t take this . . . pressure much longer.” Was he loosening his leather ring? His size was unbearable.
So why was I on the verge of a third orgasm?
His damp hips slapped my ass harder and harder. Slap, slap, SLAP. “Victoria!” he roared, his fingers biting into flesh. “Need to shoot my cum . . . so deep inside you!”
My next climax forced a strangled moan from my lungs. I was delirious, babbling, sex-drugged.
Face drawn with need, he met my heavy-lidded gaze in one of the screens. “I will never let you go!”
He bellowed with pleasure, neck corded and muscles bulging, as his semen flooded my core. Ramping up his pace, he slammed into me to empty the last of his cum. . . .
With a groan, he collapsed atop me, his heaving breaths tickling my damp neck. Even as he recovered, he grazed tender kisses across my nape.
Though I was restrained, with his weight pressing down on me, I’d never felt freer. Hadn’t he promised to free me? Boneless with bliss, I murmured, “Dmitri, I like how our sex will be.”
CHAPTER 29
________________________________________
___________________________________
“What will we do today?” I asked, watching Dmitri stretch naked in the morning sunlight. I blew out a breath. That man. We’d been married for a week, but my attraction kept growing.
Earlier, I’d awakened him in one of the two ways he preferred. He’d cracked open his eyes—the color of yesterday’s painted gold sunset. After a moment of confusion, he’d curled his lips. “An alarm-clock BJ? Are you dicking with me?” he’d asked, using my line.
Imitating him, I said, “No. I am not.” I couldn’t get enough of his taste.
“Ah, Vika, I like this life with you. . . .”
I enjoyed all the luxury he showered on me, but Dmitri was the draw by a mile. Even if he had no money, I would still be infatuated with him. My toes would still curl when his waking confusion transformed to that golden shimmer of satisfaction. I’d still know more pleasure with him than I’d ever dreamed.
I’d still feel protective.
God, I felt protective.
“We should pack for our honeymoon.” He pulled on a pair of broken-in jeans; the staff must be coming in today. “I want to spend our one-week anniversary in Moorea.”
“Where’s that?”
“An island near Tahiti.”
So far away? How would anyone pick up the ring? They needed it in three days! “Um, I thought we’d be honeymooning here.”
He shook his head. “The weather’s supposed to turn, but it will be nice in French Polynesia. I plan to buy you everything—even sunny days.”
“Maybe we could leave in a week or two?” Work the con, I told myself.
Oh, who was I kidding? I kept using the con as an excuse to get right where I wanted to be—with Dmitri.