Midnight Lies (Tasarov Bratva 2)

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I growl. I press a kiss to each of her thighs. Then I spread them wide and lap up her sweetness.

I feast on her for a while until she’s bucking and trembling on my mouth. But I can’t wait much longer.

She reaches up to gingerly touch my shoulder as I crawl up over her. “Are you sure you should be doing this? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“That’s not a concern,” I tell her.

“It is for me. I’m concerned about it.”

“You should be concerned for yourself,” I say. “You’re the one who’s about to get hurt.”

She frowns, confused for a second. Until I slide inside of her.

She stifles a cry as I press myself in to the hilt. Then I pull out and do it again.

“That doesn’t hurt,” she breathes.

“Hm. Should we try more, then?”

“More,” she nods. Her hands claw at my shoulder blades, dragging me closer. “Give me more.”

She doesn’t need to ask me twice. She will never, ever need to ask me that twice.

The fire warms my left side, but the night around us is cold. Emery wraps her legs around me, and I lean into her, finding warmth against her body.

We rock together, connecting again and again in the firelight. Emery kisses the skin around my wound. She digs into my back with her heels, demanding more of me. Her fingers smooth out the knotted muscles in my back.

Fucking is usually just that: fucking.

But this is verging on something else. Something almost… tender.

I can feel my orgasm approaching no matter how hard I try to stave it off. Balls clenching tight, her moans like a siren song in my ear—and then, suddenly, off in the distance, an animal howls.

Emery stiffens, her entire body going rigid as a board beneath me.

“Still scared of the wolves?” I hook a hand behind one of her knees to open her legs wider for me, then slam into her unforgivingly.

She fights back a moan and her hand clamps around my wrist. “It’s not funny, Adrik. Are there really wolves out here?”

“Even if there are, the wolves aren’t who you need to be scared of.”

Before she can answer, I bend down and bite lightly at her throat. I nip along her neck and her collarbone as I claim her like a feral beast.

She tips her head back, eyes closed, mouth open.

Then, all at once, I sit up.

Emery gasps at the rush of cold. I watch as her nipples pebble into hard points.

“Hey!” she complains. “Where are you—”

I kneel in front of her and lift her hips up, then spear her on my aching cock. Suddenly, I’m inside of her at a new angle, and Emery forgets how to talk. She can only whimper as I thrust, touching new places no one has ever touched before. I feel her body contract around me.

“You’re so tight,” I growl, pounding into her.

Her whimpers morph into moans, and soon, she is writhing in front of me. She throws her arms over her head and arches her back. I can see all of her muscles tensed, her body begging for a release that only I can give her.

I hold her hips with one arm and press my other hand over her heat. All it takes is a few brushes of my thumb over her clit, and Emery is crashing.

As soon as she clamps down around me, my dam bursts. I pump into her with purpose. My rhythm matches Emery’s and it’s like she’s milking me, drawing out every last drop I have to offer. She takes my cum, my heart, my soul.

I get her in return.

Once I’m finished, I pull out and lay next to her on the blanket, running a hand over her flat stomach. “Fuck me, that was good.”

She turns towards me, hooking a bare leg over my thigh. “You were right.”

“I always am,” I say. “What in particular am I right about now?”

Emery curls her fingers in my hair and lifts my face so we’re looking in each other’s eyes. Her green eyes are almost lost in the blackness of her pupils.

“You’re scarier than the wolves.”